#co parenting both in creating them and in actual parenting them

[hellcifrogs]

Oh yeah I had these team kenshi parents ideas I've been working on~

[bouquetface]

Navamsa Observations 10

Accuracy is influenced by ENTIRE chart. A few shared placements doesn’t promise the same outcome.

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO TOPIC OF CHEATING/AFFAIRS

Having many planets in dual signs (like virgo/gemini, pisces/sag) can indicate 2 marriages and/or duality in marriage.

Having many planets in mutable signs generally is considered good. This shows the ability to adapt and compromise.

Having many planets in fixed signs generally is considered difficult. This doesn’t mean you’ll def get divorced. Rather it shows when hardships occur, you or the spouse is unwilling to change. You get stuck in your habits and beliefs.

Any planets in Libra will be of great importance to your marriage. ex: Saturn in Libra - great placement, shows a strong ability to resolve and compromise - unless contradicted by other placements or aspects. This shows the couple will behave like Saturn in the marriage. Both are hardworking, focused on balance & longevity. Saturn is represented as the Servant - you will both work to serve the marriage and your family. Depending on entire chart & different life phases, you can enjoy this routine or feel bored by it.

Saturn in the D9 - This shows where the dullness & obligatory feelings are in married life. ex: Saturn in 8th H - You feel bored or burden by having to deal with spouse’s family, spouse’s income spending habits, spouse’s possessions. If Saturn is well placed, it can uplift that feeling but there is a sense of duty. Feeling “i have to” instead of “i want to/I like to” will be there in regard to that house’s themes.

Moon in the D9 - This shows how your happiness, comfort and mental state is affected by the marriage. ex: Moon conjunct Sun in 12th H - There can be a restlessness to your thinking. Your sleep may be disrupted at some point. Ex.2: Moon in Libra - You are generally joyful. You are concerned more with how you and the spouse look. You are concerned with aesthetics and romance.

Rahu or Ketu conjunct Mars or Jupiter or 7th H Lord - one indicator for a foreign husband. Rahu or Ketu conjunct Venus - one indicator for a foreign wife.

Rahu & Ketu in D9 - These show a surprise/shocking development that can occur in your life. It’s difficult to say what it will be since it’s usually a shocking and sudden type of thing. House, Sign, aspects & depositor can show hints.

Timing Blessing & Hardships w Navamsa

Dasha periods & transits activate the planets into play. You won’t have your entire navamsa come into play the day you marry or the day you turn 36. It is a gradual process.

Any planets in Scorpio or Aqua are very karmic. This is because scorpio is co-ruled by ketu, aqua is co-rules by rahu. Having Jupiter, Venus or 7th H Lord in Scorpio or Aqua shows a karmic partner (if you believe in past lives this is a past life connection).

It is so difficult to predict with a few placements. Especially when those placements are in Scorpio & Aqua - as these can show sudden shocking changes. Karmic doesn’t always have to be a negative situation btw. positive example:

5th H Lord in Aqua in 11th of D9 - In this life, your first child may add to your gains & wishes - suddenly or shockingly the child as an adult fulfills a wish on your bucket list. Possibly in a past life, you were very generous to them & helped them. Or even in this life, you as the parent may have been very good and loving.

negative example:

6th H Lord in Aqua of D9 - You suddenly discover the spouse has a lot of student loan debt. The spouse may be so good to you that you decide you are going to help them pay it off. In a past life, they may have helped you and/or you didn’t pay them. You are correcting that wrong and/or creating a balance.

6th H in D9 - This shows fights you will have in the marriage. It shows the mistress - for both men & women. For this to actually be the person your spouse cheats with, your chart would have to show cheating indicators in the marriage.

ex: Virgo 6th H - Mercury in Gemini - This women’s husband cheated with a younger women. She was very mercurial even physically - thin, tall/lanky, chatty/social, etc.

When you do not have cheating indicators in the chart, this shows fights over little things. ex: scheduling/planning, forgetfulness, attention to detail, everyday chores or tasks. Mercury placement will provide more info - if mercury is well placed, this generally shows you resolve issues fairly well and quickly.

ex: Leo 6th H - Sun conjunct Jupiter in Aqua - This person’s spouse cheated on them with several people (Jupiter’s influence). Aqua’s influence - It was physical cheating rather than emotional - spouse had emotional detachment from the affair partners. At the end of the day, they did not desire to leave the marriage.

When you do not have cheating indicators but have a Leo 6th H, this shows ego is what causes fights throughout the marriage. ex: Not apologizing when wrong, fighting over who the authority is in the marriage, etc. Sun placement will provide more info - if sun is well placed, this generally shows you resolve issues fairly well and quickly.

Potential of affairs/cheating - This is shown by 8th H in D9. Having a strong 8th H Lord or exalted planets in 8th H shows very low chance of that occurring.

7th H can indicate cheating as well as it tells about the partner’s character. ex: Rahu in 7th - the ruler is not placed well in the 12th - partner might cheat.

[kuromixheartzzz]

WANNA BE MY FN DUO?! | roster hoppers

y/n l/n. 18. a raging fortnite addict. tired of being accused of being stinky and sweaty for playing fortnite. has a deep rooted love for chikawa. and has a cat named princess with hiori. tried to play fortnite during work, got yelled at and almost fired but chigiri, gagamaru, and barou defended her. spoils charles with candies too much. one time took charles to the playground with shidou and you both gave him a whole ass bowl full of candy. he ate it all in one day and his dentist ended up having to fill all his teeth with gold and you and shidou got yelled at by loki. plays fn with hiori and niko the most cause they are the best at it and don’t bully her for playing it. also cause she’s roomies with hiori and niko lives next door to them.

shidou ryusei. 18. one of y/n’s closest and longest friend. in a co-parenting relationship with y/n for charles. met during high school and became besties regardless of his violent and vulgar personality. played fn because of sabrina carpenter. plays occasionally, literally tries to have e-sex with randos everytime and they report him so he has gotten banned multiple times but never gives up. also tries to fight sae lovers and haters claiming “he’s mine.” he’s also gotten banned about that. certified freak and is very normal (obsessed) about sae itoshi.. 

chigiri hyoma. 17. another one of y/n’s closest friends and is her longest friend. they are childhood besties <<33 y/n called chigiri “hyo” for short since they were teeny tiny fetuses and never stopped. plays fn only cause y/n forced him to, he’s actually pretty good at it. he plays it for fun sometimes but he isn’t borderline obsessed with it (unlike y/n..) they work in the same restaurant together. lowk has a crush on one of their co-workers.. (you already know who!)

gagamaru gin. 18. THE GOAT 🔥🔥 met y/n at the restaurant they work at. became friends because he had the most insane stories and they all turned out to be true for some reason?!?! has a pet bear and apparently “lives in the mountains” ??? can’t spell for shit. anw once in a full moon texts the gc due to that reason but everyone loves him and calls him the goat. 🐐 (he can’t play fn at all too)

hiori yo. 17. roomies with y/n after leaving his home from his toxic parents. plays soccer but not pro like his parents want, he’s trying to pick up the game as a fun hobby (partially to help heal his childhood) him and y/n became close super fast like literally one day. super chill with each other. and y/n’s go-to fn duo. also they already had each other added way before they even met bc they used to grind on fn.

niko ikki. 16. mutual friend of hiori’s plus lives in the same apartment complex as them. so he basically became your friend from there. visits hiori and y/n’s shared apartment all the time, he practically lives with them atp. they do everything together. y/n wanted him to be a part of her and shidous family.. he refused. he’s good at fn but sometimes you wonder how he plays when he has his eyes covered like that.. one time y/n tried to catch if he was cheating on fn cause his eyes are always covered so she could get his account red screened (she’s a hater like that) he never cheated so there was no blackmail.. he’s just really good at the game and memorized the controls.

charles chevalier. 15. shidou and y/n’s “child”. loves his life. he met y/n through shidou and they’ve all been inseparable since. literally got adopted by shidou and y/n. him, shidou, and y/n speak in emojis with each other. they call it family bond, others call it brainrot. he’s not good at fn but it’s okay!! because he has fun!!!!! he just trolls people and trash talks also tries to instigate and create drama. one time he instigated it ended up going too far and made a couple break up.

barou shoei. 18. met y/n at the restaurant. she lowkey hated him because he would bark orders around but then got to know him and figured out it’s just how he is. now she loves him and annoys him more than anything. one of her closest friends. he DOES NOT play fortnite, he would rather die than touch that game. he said it’s for sweaty, stinky, unhygienic, donkeys who don’t have a life. you were offended by that statement and gave him silent treatment for a week. he’s a clean freak so even though almost every one plays fortnite, he makes sure they are not dirty. he already doesn’t want to be caught around “low class donkeys even worse unhygienic ones” he used to send texts to the gc that said “shower check.” and would make everyone respond if they took one. he loves everyone even though he would never say it aloud <<33 (not shidou tho, he stays hating him) he has a soft spot for kids after all he is a family man.

masterlist -> next

[astrologydayz]

ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES2🖤💀

Nobody really knows a person with a 12th House Sun🤔🤔. They hide themselves really well, & project themselves as someone they're truly not. They don't do it on purpose, they're just so fucking private. My brother actually has this placement, and we're practically twins, but I still feel like I don't know him, AT ALL. They hide themselves, because they're afraid that their true selves won't be "enough"/won't be "liked". BUT OFC IT WILL, & IF NOT, THEN FUCK THEM, BABE.

MOON CONJUNCT/SQUARE SATURN people can hate being alone 4 the first two decades of their lives, but later learn 2 be their own best friend, & love it. They "mother themselves 2 life/back2life". They learned the hard way, that everything is better when u don't put your faith in just anybody. They also learned not 2 trust from a young age, because of their mother/father or both parents💀💔.

I've seen people say "that u can choose not to access that specific energy in your chart, if you don't want 2"🤣. Like u can choose 2 get a million dollars tmrw?, IF YOU WANT 2?🤣 come on. Natal charts are a tool 2 c who u are, why you developed that way/what “happens in your life”, and why you're here with the help of astrology. No matter the aspect, it will be present at some point. A chart never lies🔮🤷‍♀️.

MOON SQUARE/QUINCUNX VENUS IN A MAN'S NATAL CHART tells us that he finds it hard 2 understand women. He has "problems" when it comes 2 feminine energies, &with the women he's surrounding himself with🤔. He can have a hate/love relationship 2/with women💋.

VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE MONY ASTEROID - 7782) IN SYNASTRY, will cause the asteroid person 2 provide the Venus person with a lot of material gifts👠🛍💄.

IDK why anybody would say that your MC has NOTHING to do with how u look/how people see u! Lol okay. My mentor must have been on drugs when she was taught everything + in all those 43 years she's been in practice then. gtfo. Let me give u an example. 👇🏼

I’ll just tell you everything I see with this aspect.

Kim K = Venus in Virgo in 9th house at 19 degrees - Libra degree) conjunct her MC in Virgo at 28 degrees - cancer degree). She's famous 4 her beautiful looks/people finding her beautiful. she always does things to look "YOUNGER, cosmetic procedures etc. 2 take years off! Growing a big following worldwide of young people looking up 2 her/her being idolized by them. Famous 4 being beautiful/4modelling/fashion/cosmetics - being in Venusian businesses/4 who she dates. she also takes after her MOM, with her looks!!! I know her mom was/is also her manager, & I would include this here, cuz u can actually see that, but I would have to go into details again. Idk if u would find that boring?? as I already wrote a lot. Thanks for making it this far😂.

ASTEROID MEMORIA (1247) IN SYNASTRY can tell u why u feel like you’ve met the other person before, or what memories that r the most "memorable" with the other person🧡🪐🔮.

ASTEROID FANATICA - 1589) IN SYNASTRY tells u what really fascinates u about the other person/what u can become obsessed with, when it comes 2 the other person❕

IF U HAVE A SYNASTRY ASPECT/OR ASPECTS with someone, and u also have it in your natal chart = a very important person you're dealing with! They'll teach u whatever the aspect is/aspects are! And they're meant 2 be the one who teaches it 2u/ or meant 2 be the one who makes that aspect exist in your life. (good or bad).

VENUS OPPOSITE VERTEX/CONJUNCT ANTI-VERTEX IN SYNASTRY is co cute🥹, Vertex let Venus in2 their "private world". Venus is usually not the type Vertex person goes 4, but they’re mesmerised anyway!! “There’s just something unreal about Venus”.

KARMA ASTEROID - 3811) can tell you about your karma! Old karma/Karma you're creating etc. U can use it in in any chart u want2, natal charts, synastry charts, composite charts, Davidson Charts, solar return charts, lunar return charts, progressed charts, ANY CHART U WANT2 BABE!!🪐🤛💥🪐⛅☀🌊.

BLACK MOON LILITH SQUARE/QUINCUNX ASC in a WOMAN'S CHART can show problems with both genders. She can feel left out, not apart of "the group", when it comes to women. And with men = men always trying to run up on her/trying her boundaries, &they're provocative af. People can't handle her here. She will not conform to anyone. She can feel pretty fucking alone in the way she goes about her day to day life. feeling like nobody will ever understand the struggles she has/the pain she's going around with. The key here is acceptance of ones self. She cannot change herself for others sake, she will never be happy. She'll be happy when she chooses herself, & the right people will flock 2 her, right after. They'll See her light, &will not put who she is down, but CELEBRATE. It can also be the complete opposite. She can be a people pleaser, & has internal fights with herself, every day about this. Trying 2 fit in with groups, dating men who's crossing her boundaries, all the time. She either fights people, or she fights herself. SHE HAS 2 STAY TRUE2HERSELF! There will always be people hating on her, no matter how she moves. FUCK THEM. People who are meant 2 be in her life will CELEBRATE HER!! Not put who she is down/make her change. People who can't understand her = she needs2 get them the fuck out.

NEPTUNE CONJUNCT ASC can show a person living in their own "delulu world". They're not really "there" - can be seen as the "dumb blonde". Neptune can cloud their mind, every single day. They're "different"/they change all the time. They can't really be "real" with people. Trying 2 always be friends with everyone, not really having their own opinions, following the pack etc. They can 100% people please.

VALENTINE/AMOR/ 447) - 1221) CONJUNCT MC - They "look like love", &they also project it out. People think they're beautiful. But remember, even tho people know/c them like that = doesn't mean that they're really like that. That's just what they show off/how they're "known" in the eyes of the public/in their career/their surroundings💜.

SUN MAKING AN "EASY" ASPECT2 MOON does not mean that your parents like each other. I have this, and my parents literally can't stand each other. I've seen this more times than I can count. It's about your conscious ego&how you emotionally feel about the way u express yourself/with the way u "show your ego off" - "yin&Yang duality".

I HATE MOON SQUARE URANUS IN SYNASTRYYYYY. Uranus will pop in&out of the other person's life, as they desire2. The Moon person needs support&a feeling of being safe, &Uranus wants other things/aka not worried about the Moon person - Uranus is erratic. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?

MERCURY OPPOSITE NEPTUNE can show us a person being pretty good at lying/coming up with lies easily/Quickly. Having no problems with finding "excuses" 4 what they say/do, &can get other people in on it, 2 lie for them as well. It happens in periods tho, like on & off periods.

Asteroids I always look at first: Nemesis - 128) Amor - 1221), Valentine - 447), Alma - 390), Destiny - 6583), Moira - 638), Eros - 433), Karma - 3811), Kama - 1387), Close - 54902), Apollo - 1862), Child - 4580), Compassion - 8990), Angel - 11911), Yes - 7707), Boda - 1487), DNA - 55555), Fast - 27719), Prey - 6157), Not - 2857), Casanova - 7328), Fox - 16248), Savage - 29837), Pholus - 5145), Fanatica - 1589), Priapus - h22), Sado - 118230), Medea - 212), Nessus - 7066), Dejanira - 157), Hazard - 9305), Mentor - 3451), Lysistrata - 897), Bilk - 4425 - using the other person 4 own material gain).

THANKS4READING BEAUTIFUL❤️🍒 Appreciate u, always.

[thebunnednun]

Toast 5.

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Katsuki Bakugou x Ex!Pro hero!Reader

Katsuki talks to the daughter he never knew he had.

Summary:

Why is it that we never expect betrayal from the person closest to us?

Songs:

Like Him Me and your Mama

“Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep—”

Katsuki stirred awake in the dim light of Kirishima’s guest room, his body sinking into the mattress beneath the weight of lingering sleep.

His eyes, half-lidded and drowsy, fixed on the ceiling above, tracing the faint patterns in the plaster. The soft glow from his phone screen had faded hours ago, but the image of your contact picture lingered in his mind like an afterimage burned into his retinas. His fingers twitch slightly, the memory of scrolling through your messages and photos before sleep overtook him still fresh in his consciousness.

He blinked slowly, his lashes brushing against his skin as he wiped away the drool that had pooled at the corner of his mouth and the crust clinging to his eyes. His brain was sluggish, wrapped in a haze of sleep that refused to clear easily. He groaned, the sound low and gravelly in the quiet room, as he considered moving, pushing himself up, starting his day.

But the thought of leaving the cocoon of warmth his bed provided felt insurmountable.

A glance at the digital alarm clock perched on the nightstand told him it was 4:48 AM. Normally, he’d be up by now, heading to the shower before joining Kirishima for their morning training. It was a routine they both adhered to with a near-religious fervor. But today, the idea of dragging himself out of bed felt like a monumental task. He could hear the faint murmur of the television from the living room, the familiar cadence of the weather reporter detailing the muggy, 37-degree morning.

Katsuki exhaled heavily, his breath a soft whisper against the stillness of the room. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the sky remained a dark grey, a sliver of light just beginning to creep along the horizon. The weight of his duty pressed against him, a familiar companion that urged him to rise, to face the day, to protect the citizens of Japan. He had made a promise to meet you, and that promise gnawed at the back of his mind, a persistent reminder of the obligations he could not shirk.

Right now, just for a moment, he allowed himself the indulgence of five more minutes. 

Five minutes to sink back into the warmth of the blankets, to close his eyes and pretend that the world outside didn’t exist. 

Five minutes to gather his strength before he stepped into the cold reality of his life.

Five more minutes to dream about you.

The dim light from your phone screen cast a faint glow across the room as you scrolled through another article, eyes scanning lines of text that felt more like a blur than actual words. You hadn't really slept, the quiet hum of thoughts keeping you awake while Mina's soft snores echoed from the guest room down the hall. The familiar, rhythmic sound was oddly comforting, a reminder that someone was there, even as you delved into the depths of parenting blogs, scientific studies, and posts about co-parenting and therapy for children with quirk-related issues.

Your bedroom was a sanctuary of warmth and personal touches, a blend of cherished memories and subtle holiday cheer. The walls, painted in your favorite soft hue, created a calming backdrop for the life that filled the space. Floating shelves lined one wall, adorned with an array of knick-knacks and framed photographs that captured moments of joy and love. Most prominent among them were pictures of Asuna, her beaming smile frozen in time, radiating happiness. 

A single, weathered photo of Class 1-A was locked  away in your desk drawer, a reminder of a chapter once closed but never forgotten.

On your desk, a hot pink lava lamp, gifted from Asuna, casts a gentle, rhythmic glow, the liquid inside dancing slowly in the dim light. Beside it, a cat-shaped mug from Hitoshi held a few pens and a half-empty cup of tea from the night before. A parenting book from Aizawa lay open, pages marked with notes and highlights from your late-night reading. Eri's growing cactus sat proudly on the windowsill, its tiny spines catching the morning light.

Your bed was a haven of comfort, dominated by a large, knitted blanket from your grandmother Rita, draped over the soft, inviting sheets. The adjacent pillow held a picture of Rita, because you couldn’t go to bed without her yet. A pair of bunny slippers, Mina’s thoughtful gift, rested at the side of the bed, ready to be slipped on when the day began.

Christmas decorations added a festive touch, with a mini tree twinkling in the corner, its tiny ornaments reflecting the soft glow of fairy lights strung across the room. The corkboard above your desk was a collage of memories, snapshots of Asuna and Eri, candid moments with Aizawa and Hitoshi, and little notes that brought warmth to your heart.

A bookshelf, filled with well-loved books and a few new additions, stood tall against one wall, its shelves a mix of fiction, non-fiction, and journals. The walk-in closet was a neat but lived-in space, filled with clothes and a few hidden gifts waiting for the right moment. The private bathroom adjoined to the bedroom was a quiet retreat, its simple design accentuated by the personal touches that made it yours.

But you couldn’t enjoy it.

At least, not right now.

Your mind was restless, bouncing between thoughts of Asuna, your grandmother Rita, and inevitably—

Katsuki. 

You looked at your phone again, your most recent conversation with Hitoshi still echoing in your mind, replaying in fragments. It had started as it always did, a check-in after his patrol, his voice steady as he reassured you of his safety before mentioning he was about to turn in. But then he asked a question that lingered long after the call had ended.

"Have you ever thought about dating again?"

The question had caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. You weren’t a nun; you hadn’t closed yourself off completely. But after everything, after the heartache and the struggle, you hadn’t given it much thought. It felt like opening a door you weren’t sure you wanted to step through again. 

Deep down, a part of you still loved Katsuki. Maybe it was the memory of him, or the aspects of him that lingered in your heart. But loving someone didn’t mean you had to put yourself through the pain of liking them again, of letting them back in.

You sighed, the weight of it all pressing against your chest. Katsuki was still a part of Asuna, even if he didn’t know it. 

And that tether, however frayed, couldn't be severed. 

You couldn’t give Hitoshi a straight answer, and he hadn’t pressed further, leaving the conversation to taper off into a soft ‘see you soon’ before the line went dead.

Rubbing your temples, you tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. The night had been heavy, filled with emotions that bubbled to the surface as your brain kept replaying how you and Katsuki cried together. His presence, even through the tears, had been comforting, a safety you hadn’t felt with anyone else since. It was a harsh reminder of what once was, of what could never be again, and yet… 

It made you feel something you hadn't in a long time.

With a deep breath, you stood and stretched, the soft cotton of your tank top shifting against your skin. You grabbed the cream-colored, kitten-soft sweater draped over the corner of your bed and slipped it on, buttoning it up to ward off the morning chill. The fabric was warm and comforting, a small shield against the emotional whirlwind inside you.

Making your way to the basement, you descended the stairs slowly, each step sobering you a bit more. The workout room was warmer than usual, a subtle, cozy heat that enveloped you as you entered. You set up your routine, focusing on the familiar rhythm of movement. The strain of muscles, the controlled breaths, the focus it required—each brought a semblance of clarity.

As you worked through your routine, your thoughts began to align, forming a plan. You’d talk to Asuna this morning, have a heart-to-heart about whatever was on her mind. Maybe, after meeting with Katsuki, you could take her Christmas shopping. A mom-and-daughter date. The thought brought a small, soft smile to your lips. 

‘Yeah, that would be a good idea.’ 

Something to look forward to, something to lighten the weight in your chest.

Asuna woke up at 5 a.m., her internal clock reliable as ever. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at the ceiling before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. A soft smile crept onto her face as she read the goodnight message from Eri, who always sent her love before bed, knowing Asuna could never stay awake past 9 p.m. She hearted the message and quickly typed back a loving good morning, the warmth of their friendship lifting her spirits.

She stretched her arms above her head, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the fogged window. The faint sounds of weights clanking and your focused breaths reached her ears from the basement below, a familiar morning symphony. Asuna sighed, her breath fogging up the glass as she leaned against the window for a moment, watching the grey sky slowly lighten. 

Aunty Mina would still be sound asleep in the guest room, snoring softly, until her alarm woke her at 6 a.m. Then, Mina would stumble out in her pink silk robe, bleary-eyed but cheerful, and head to the kitchen to start breakfast, filling the house with the comforting aroma of food.

Asuna's room was a vibrant blend of her eclectic tastes, a space that captured her unique personality. The walls were painted a soft pink, a backdrop that was both soothing and cheerful. Her pink Bayside window, framed with delicate lace curtains, overlooked the quiet mountain below, the glass fogged from the chilly morning air. On her nightstand sat her beloved camera, always ready to capture the world as she saw it, and a butterfly lamp from Eri, its gentle glow casting soft shadows on the walls.

Her bed was a princess dream, draped with a canopy and adorned with a mix of cushions and stuffed animals. The black sheets with strawberries shaped like skulls were a little unique in contrast with the rest of the room. 

When you had asked her why she chose them, she simply said, "They're tough." 

One corner of the room screamed punk goth, with dark posters, edgy decor, and a collection of band memorabilia. The other corner embraced a pink aesthetic, filled with soft plushies, fairy lights, and pastel trinkets. Her large closet was neatly divided: One half for her school and hero training clothes, and the other for her fashion-forward outfits. Each section was neatly organized and readily accessible.

On the hooks along one wall hung her purses, book bag, and gym bag, a tidy lineup that belied the heated debate between Shinsou and Aizawa when trying to install them. Eventually, you and Mina had stepped in, setting up the hooks while the two men argued over placement. 

Shinsou had redeemed himself by successfully installing her floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and gaming monitor, while you and Aizawa had built her bed frame together. Mina had helped with the vanity, changing out the lightbulbs to cast the perfect glow, and Eri had gifted Asuna her first shoujo manga for the bookshelf.

The room was also decked out for Christmas, a full-sized tree in one corner, adorned with ornaments, lights, and featuring her favorite comic book characters. The festive atmosphere blended seamlessly with her everyday decor, creating a space that felt warm, personal, and entirely hers. 

She almost went back to bed before she realized that she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Today would be the final day of school before winter break. And the thought of the half-day at school brought a mix of anticipation and restlessness. 

Asuna loved half-days, especially because it meant spending the afternoon with you at the office. She looked forward to the warm greetings from your colleagues, the familiar bustle of your workspace, and the hours spent in Elle’s office. There, she could immerse herself in video games, 2000’s romantic comedies, or, if fortune favored her, study new fight tapes to hone her skills. The possibility of Eri joining her for a session in your company’s gym added a layer of excitement.

Pushing herself off the bed, Asuna padded across the room in her reindeer slippers, her footsteps muffled on the plush carpet. She grabbed her neatly laid-out school uniform from the chair by her desk, folding it over her arm as she headed to the bathroom. Her resolve hardened as she turned on the shower, the rush of water filling the small space. 

Today, she would ask you about her father. 

The thought made her stomach churn, but she felt a determined flame flicker in her chest. It was a conversation she needed to have, and she trusted you to be honest with her. Stepping into the warm cascade of water, Asuna let the heat soothe her nerves, the steam wrapping around her like a cocoon. 

It was going to be a long day, but she had to face it.

Now matter how much she wanted to burn everything down. 

The faint scent of waffles and the distant thump of music filled the house as you set down your weights, catching your breath. Mina’s familiar, upbeat tunes floated from the kitchen, her morning ritual of blasting music while whipping up breakfast in full swing. Smiling, you wiped the sweat from your brow and paused your playlist just as Lil Jon’s "Get Low" reached its final beats.

Hearing soft footsteps on the stairs, you turned, greeted by the sight of Asuna's familiar, mischievous grin. Her bright red eyes sparkled as she bounded towards you, her school outfit a playful rebellion against the standard uniform.

Today, she sported a white skirt paired with an oversized black sweater adorned with yellow diamonds, her half-up, half-down hairstyle framing her face perfectly. The butterfly clip from Eri nestled in her hair caught the light, and her ears sparkled with the stud earrings Mina had given her last birthday. Chains jingled lightly around her neck, completing her effortlessly stylish look. Despite her ensemble's flair, she still had her reindeer slippers on, a cozy touch that made you chuckle.

You waved her over, and she skipped to your side, greeting you with a bright, "Good morning!" As you looked over her outfit, noting the absence of the school-issued blazer and tie, you raised an eyebrow.

"Skipping the uniform again, huh?" you teased, smoothing her hair as she tilted her head innocently.

Asuna grinned. "It’s a half day, so I figured we could hang out afterward. No need for the boring uniform if I'm just coming to your office."

Her words tugged at your heart, but you gently broke the news.

"Actually, I’ve got work, and Rumi will be picking you up from school today."

Her eyes widened slightly, blinking in surprise. Before disappointment could set in, you added quickly, 

"We’ll talk more at breakfast, okay? I promise. I hope you don’t mind waiting a little."

Asuna’s attitude remained upbeat as she nodded, the disappointment fleeting. "No problem. I’ll be fine." She gave you a playful nudge. "Now, go shower before you stink up the kitchen."

You grinned, grabbing your towel and swinging it playfully in her direction. "Oh, you’re going to get it now!"

Laughing, Asuna darted out of the way, her reindeer slippers pattering against the floor as you chased her down the hallway, your shared laughter echoing through the house, a perfect start to the day.

With a burst of speed, Asuna dashed up the stairs, her laughter echoing through the house as she tried to evade your pursuit. You were right behind her, the towel you’d been wielding like a flag of sweaty victory flapping in your hand. Asuna squealed, her feet skidding slightly on the hardwood floor before she made a sharp turn into the kitchen.

"Sanctuary!" she cried out, ducking behind the kitchen island.

Mina, standing at the stove in her pink silk robe, emerged with a spatula raised high like a weapon of authority. Her brow furrowed in mock seriousness as she surveyed the scene unfolding before her.

"Hey! What did I say about running in my kitchen?" she ordered, stepping in front of Asuna with the air of a seasoned protector. She pointed the spatula at you, effectively barring your entrance.

"Back off, soldier. You need to take a bath and put on your hero uniform before you stink up the whole house."

Feigning an expression of deep betrayal, you clutched your chest as if struck by an invisible blow.

"Is this how an unloved spouse is treated? I pay the bills, you know!"

Mina’s stern facade cracked just enough for a smirk to tug at her lips. She quickly gathered herself, slipping into a mock housewife role with a haughty tilt of her chin.

"It's your damn job to pay the bills in this house!" she shot back, wagging the spatula in your direction for emphasis. "I don’t care if you want to take a shower in every bathroom in this house, but you will NOT sit at, my table, all sweaty."

You let out an exaggerated huff, crossing your arms in mock defiance. "Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, I’m cutting your allowance. You can only get your nails done twice this week instead of three."

Mina gasped in mock horror, her eyes wide as if you had just declared the most grievous offense. With dramatic flair, she flung the dish towel at you.

"You monster!"

Catching the towel mid-air, you clutched it to your heart, blowing her a kiss as you stepped backward. "Just kidding!~" you called, shooting her a playful wink before making your way to the bathroom.

As you retreated, you caught sight of Asuna behind Mina, her face a masterpiece of exaggerated expressions, tongue stuck out, eyes crossed. She was barely holding back her laughter, her shoulders shaking as she tried to maintain her composure.

Mina turned, narrowing her eyes at Asuna’s antics but with a fond smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Alright, enough goofing around. Let’s get the table set before your parent uses all the hot water."

Asuna straightened, her laughter finally spilling over as she hopped up to the counter. "Can I help set the plates?" she asked, her eyes shining with the kind of enthusiasm that could make even mundane tasks feel special.

"Of course," Mina replied, handing her a stack of plates. "You set the plates, and I’ll finish up the waffles."

Together, they worked in harmony, Asuna carefully placing the plates at each setting while Mina poured the last of the waffle batter onto the griddle. The kitchen smelled of sweet syrup and fresh waffles, a comforting aroma that wrapped around them like a warm hug. Asuna hummed under her breath, the soft melody blending with the faint sizzle from the stove.

She gazed out of the window, noticing how the fog outside blurred the world beyond into soft, indistinct shapes. A sense of calm washed over her, knowing that today would end with warmth and laughter at home.

Hopefully.

Mina glanced over at Asuna, who was now reaching for the silverware. "You excited for your half-day today?" she asked, handing her the napkins.

Asuna nodded eagerly, setting down the silverware with precision. "Yeah! I love going to Mom’s office. Elle always lets me watch rom-coms or play video games. And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get some new fight tapes to review."

Mina chuckled. "Sounds like a blast. Just don’t go easy on your mom about the tapes. She’ll want to sit and watch them with you."

Asuna grinned, the thought of sharing those moments with you making her heart warm. The table was set, and she stepped back to admire their handiwork, her stomach already growling in anticipation of the meal. Mina ruffled her hair affectionately. "Good job, kiddo. Now, let’s get some breakfast in you before your day starts."

Asuna beamed, her mind already spinning with the plans for the day ahead. She loved mornings like this—filled with lighthearted banter, the scent of breakfast in the air, and the comfort of family all around her. She watched Mina carefully, noting the way she hummed softly, her bonnet still snugly in place, protecting her hair as she moved deftly around the kitchen.

The scent of breakfast wafted through the room, but it did little to settle the uneasy feeling brewing in Asuna’s stomach. She swallowed hard, glancing down at her hands before gathering the courage to speak.

“Hey, Minnie?” she called softly, using the nickname that had become their playful norm.

Mina, ever the multitasker, didn’t miss a beat as she filled a bowl with eggs and sausage bits. "Yeah, Mickey?" she replied, a smile tugging at her lips as she focused on plating the food.

There was a pause, one that stretched long enough for Mina to glance up, her brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. Asuna took a deep breath, her fingers curling into the hem of her oversized sweater.

“What do you know about my dad?” she finally asked, her voice just above a whisper.

The clatter of the spatula hitting the floor was lost beneath the sudden, deafening crash. 

The porcelain pancake bowl slipped from Mina’s grasp, shattering against the tiles with a sharp crack that echoed through the kitchen. Mina’s eyes widened, her usual composure faltering as she stared at the fragments scattered across the floor.

"Asuna," Mina stammered, her voice tight with surprise and something else—something deeper. "I-I... I didn’t mean to—”

Asuna was already moving, her heart pounding as she rushed to help. "It's okay, it’s okay," she said hurriedly, crouching down to gather the broken pieces. In her haste, her palm caught a jagged edge of the shattered bowl, slicing through the skin with a sting that made her gasp.

" Shit! " Asuna recoiled, blood welling up from the cut almost immediately.

Mina’s reaction was instant. “Oh no! Come here,” she said urgently, her hands gentle but firm as she guided Asuna to the sink. She turned on the water, letting the cool stream rush over the wound to flush out any debris. Her touch was careful, her concern evident in the tight set of her jaw.

As the water ran pink with diluted blood, Mina kept her focus on Asuna's hand, her voice softening. "Let’s get this cleaned up. We don’t want anything getting infected," she murmured, reaching for a clean towel to press against the wound once it was thoroughly rinsed. Asuna watched her in silence, biting her lip as the initial sting faded into a dull throb. Mina’s hands moved with practiced ease, but Asuna could sense the underlying tension in her movements.

Once the cut was wrapped, Mina turned back to the mess on the floor, sweeping up the shards with careful efficiency before discarding them. The kitchen returned to its usual quiet, save for the faint sound of the water running and the hum of the heater.

Mina finally leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded Asuna with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Why do you want to know about your dad?" she asked gently, the weight of the question hanging in the air between them.

Asuna hesitated, shifting her gaze to the floor. "I just... I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. I don’t know much, and I guess I just want to know more about who he was. What he was like."

Mina’s eyes softened, and she stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Asuna’s shoulder. 

“I understand,” she said quietly, her voice steady but laced with a hint of sadness. 

“But, Asuna, some of those answers... they’re not easy to give.”

Asuna nodded slowly, her mind racing with questions she hadn’t dared to ask before. 

“I know. But I’m ready to hear them.”

Mina offered a small, reassuring smile, her thumb brushing lightly against Asuna’s cheek. “We’ll talk, okay? But let’s wait until your mom’s out of the shower. She’ll want to be a part of this too.”

Asuna nodded again, her heart still heavy but comforted by Mina’s presence. 

“Okay,” she whispered.

They stood together in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the household around them better company than the unspoken weight of the conversation yet to come.

Mina moved with her usual grace as she set Asuna’s plate in front of her, the aroma of warm waffles and syrup wafting up to fill the room. The scrambled eggs, sausage bits, and perfectly golden waffles were arranged neatly, a small pool of syrup glistening at the edges. She served your plate next, her movements thoughtful, before setting her own meal at her spot on the counter.

“Eat up, Mickey,” Mina said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to Asuna’s forehead. The gesture was familiar and comforting, followed by a gentle hug that seemed to envelop Asuna in warmth.  “I’m gonna get dressed now,” Mina added, pulling back just enough to look into Asuna’s eyes. 

“Don’t be afraid to ask your mom, okay? She’ll understand.”

Asuna nodded, though the growing pit in her stomach made her feel heavier than she had moments ago. Mina’s reassuring smile lingered as she turned and disappeared down the hallway, her footsteps fading into the distance.

The house fell into a momentary stillness, the only sound the soft hum of the oven and the clinking of cutlery as Asuna absentmindedly picked at her food.

The kitchen felt warmer than usual, a subtle indication of the lava quirks’ effect on the room’s temperature. It made sense; emotions had a way of influencing the environment, and the slight rise in heat wasn’t lost on Asuna. She gazed at the plate before her, but her mind drifted to another time, another place.

She remembered being little, living at Grammie Rita's house before you moved out and got your first apartment together.

Everything in the city had been so different from the quiet, familiar life in the country. She’d been so excited at the prospect of having her own room, decorating it with her favorite colors and toys, imagining all the new adventures she would have.

But that first night, as the shadows stretched long across the unfamiliar walls, her excitement waned, replaced by a sense of overwhelming homesickness. The city sounds were foreign, the constant hum of traffic and the occasional siren a stark contrast to the soothing chirps of crickets back home.

She had cried, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, her small body curled up under the covers. You had come to her then, your face soft with understanding as you knelt beside her bed.

"It’s okay," you had whispered, smoothing her hair back gently. "It’s a big change, but we’ll get through it together."

You’d suggested she sleep in your bed, just for the night, to help with the move. It had been a simple offer, but one that spoke volumes. Now that she was older, Asuna realized it had been one of those parenting tricks you were always reading about.

Even then, though, it hadn’t been enough. Sleep had eluded both of you, and eventually, in the quiet hours before dawn, you had packed a small overnight bag and made the long drive back to Grammie Rita’s house.

That night, she had slept nestled between you and Rita, the familiar scent of lavender and the warmth of home surrounding her. She remembered the comfort of being cocooned between the two of you, the rhythmic sound of your breathing lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep. The safety, the warmth, the undeniable sense of belonging—

It had been everything she needed.

Asuna hadn’t thought about that memory in a long time. It came rushing back now, unbidden, stirring a mix of emotions she wasn’t quite ready to face. She blinked, her gaze returning to the present, to the plate of breakfast in front of her. The warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of food, and the distant sound of your shower running—all of it familiar to her, 

But that pit in her stomach remained.

Asuna sat at the kitchen counter, the warmth from the heating system making the space feel almost too cozy. She took another stab of her waffle, savoring the sweet scent, but her mind wandered. She wanted to feel warm, the kind of warmth that wrapped around her like a familiar blanket on a cold day—not the stifling heat that made her sweat or brought on an asthma attack.

Those moments, rare as they had become, still lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn’t quite shake.

She glanced toward the hallway where Mina had disappeared, the memory of her words offering a fragile reassurance. The kitchen, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, now felt tinged with the weight of her thoughts.

Asuna shifted in her seat, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her plate. She thought about how far she had come, how much she had outgrown that terror of suddenly feeling like an elephant was sitting on her chest, crushing the air out of her lungs.

Those nights had been terrifying—the sensation of not being able to breathe, the frantic gasps for air that wouldn’t come, the rush to the hospital. She remembered the cool plastic of the oxygen mask, the sterile smell of the emergency room, and the reassuring but anxious faces of the doctors and nurses.

Even now, the oxygen tank sat in her closet, its silent presence a reminder of those moments. It was tucked away with its refills, each one a testament to your meticulous care. You never missed a doctor’s appointment, never let her go without her asthma pump. The routine was part of your life, a constant vigil over her health.

But it wasn’t just you.

Shinsou had been there too, from the very beginning.

He was her biggest comfort through those episodes, his calm presence a balm to her anxiety. Whenever you had to leave her side—whether for work or errands—Shinsou was right there, holding her hand, his eyes steady and reassuring.

He’d given her a llama plushie once, a quirky little thing with soft fur and big eyes. “To keep you safe,” he’d said, his voice low but earnest. She had clung to that plushie during those scary moments, its presence a small but significant reminder that she wasn’t alone.

Whenever she was playing and that familiar tightness crept into her chest, Shinsou had always been the first to notice. His calm voice guided her through the breathing exercises, his hands gentle on her shoulders as he helped her calm down. He never panicked, never made her feel like she was a burden. He made her feel safe.

Some nights, she only wanted him.

The tears would come, the fear would grip her, and all she could think about was hearing his voice. You would call him on FaceTime, and no matter where he was or what he was doing, he would stop everything to be there for her. His face on the screen, his voice steady and soothing, always had a way of making the panic subside.

Asuna sighed, her fingers now resting on the countertop, the warmth of the kitchen pressing in on her.

The memories stirred something deep inside, a blend of gratitude for Shinsou’s presence and the persistent ache of unanswered questions. She looked down at her plate, the waffle now cold, and felt that familiar pit in her stomach deepen.

When she was little, she had been confused about the relationship.

She thought he might be your husband at first, the way he was always around, always there when she needed him. But she knew he wasn’t her dad, not her father. That role remained an enigma, a figure that loomed in the distance of her thoughts, faceless and undefined.

Asuna had been younger then, barely understanding the complexities of relationships. She had watched the way Shinsou moved around you, always there, always ready to help.

It was natural for her to assume, in her childlike innocence, that he must be something more than just a friend. The day she gathered the courage to ask, her small voice filled the quiet living room.

"Is Toshi your husband?" she had asked, her wide eyes blinking up at you with all the seriousness her little heart could muster.

Your reaction had been instant. 

Your eyes widened so much she thought they might pop right out of your head, and for a moment, you were utterly speechless. Shinsou, sitting next to you, had let out a soft chuckle, scratching the back of his head with a sad grin. The two of you exchanged a glance before you turned your attention back to her, kneeling down to her level.

"No, sweetheart," you had said gently, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Hitoshi isn’t my husband. He’s my best friend, like how Auntie Mina is my best friend."

Asuna had tilted her head, thinking about it. Best friends, she could understand. Eri was her best friend. Auntie Mina was always around, laughing and joking, just like Shinsou. She had nodded slowly, processing the information with the seriousness of a child trying to comprehend the adult world.

"Okay," she had replied thoughtfully. Then, after a pause, she had looked back up at you, her small brows furrowed with curiosity. 

"Then... who’s my dad?"

The room had fallen silent. You had taken a deep breath, trying to find the right words. The weight of the question settled between you like an invisible presence. Finally, you offered her a soft smile, your voice gentle but clear.

"Well, I can tell you one thing for sure," you had said, a small laugh escaping as you reached out to squeeze her hand. 

"It’s not Uncle Toshi."

Asuna had giggled at your playful tone, the tension in the room easing. But even as she laughed, you could see the flicker of curiosity still in her eyes, the unspoken questions she didn’t yet have the words to ask. 

You had known this day would come, and while you had been prepared for many questions, hearing it from her little voice had hit differently.

"Can you tell me more?" she had asked softly, her gaze earnest.

You had exchanged another look with Shinsou, his supportive nod giving you the strength to continue. Gathering her in your arms, you had guided her to the couch, and tried to navigate the delicate path of honesty and protection.

Humming, Asuna flexed her fingers from resting on the countertop, the warmth of the kitchen slightly suffocating her. The memories stirred something deep inside, a blend of gratitude for Shinsou’s presence and the persistent ache of unanswered questions. She looked down at her plate, the stabbed bits of waffle now cold, and felt that familiar pit in her stomach deepen.

The sound of your work bag and boots thudding softly against the floor near the doorway echoed through the house, a familiar and comforting routine signaling your return. Asuna smiled at the sound, a brief moment of peace washing over her. 

It was fleeting.

A sudden, searing pain flared across her left hand, sharp and insistent, sending a shockwave up her arm. 

Her smile vanished, replaced by a grimace as the fork she was holding clattered onto her plate, a muffled cry escaping her lips.

She quickly pressed her hand against her chest, trying to stifle the sting, but her gaze was drawn downward to the crimson vines blooming beneath her skin, vivid and raw against her veins, like fiery tendrils weaving their way down her arm and pooling at her fingertips to where the pain was most intense.

This was familiar, painfully so.

She had seen those molten streaks before—on you. You, Pro Hero Obsidian, who wielded lava with effortless control. Your body could conjure and manipulate molten rock, transform into its various forms, and encase yourself in it as though it were a second skin. Asuna had grown up watching your mastery with this element, your quirk a powerful extension of who you were. 

But this... 

This wasn’t supposed to be her.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the angry, red-hot veins, the vivid reminder of her lack of control. She didn’t have your quirk. Her abilities were a strange fusion of energy manipulation, capable of many things. But not lava. 

And certainly not ' that' .

She clenched her hand, forcing herself to breathe slowly, deliberately.

Her mind raced back to the times when these hot explosions had spiraled out of control. The memories were sharp, vivid. The baseball field she had scorched during a heated argument, her first asthma attack in the old apartment that left their surroundings charred, and the terror of that afternoon when a villain had chased her home, leaving her powerless and panicked, the resulting blaze a beacon of her fear and fury.

Asuna hadn’t told you about these red veins, about the heat that now seemed to pulse through her body when she was upset. She had hidden it well, bundling herself in long sleeves and hoodies, pretending it was for the weather or fashion. 

It has worked so far. 

You haven't suspected anything, busy as you were with hero work and managing everything else.

But now, she only had a few minutes before you walked into the kitchen. She could hear the soft thud of your footsteps drawing nearer, the anticipation of your presence making her heart race even more.

With a determined breath, she pushed herself up from the chair, her legs feeling heavier than usual as she made her way to the fridge. She pulled it open, the cool air brushing against her flushed face as she reached for an orange popsicle.

It was a small comfort, a familiar taste that might help ground her. She unwrapped it hastily and sat back down, her posture forced into calmness as she took a bite, the cold sweetness contrasting sharply with the burning heat still simmering beneath her skin.

She glanced at the doorway, waiting, her pulse pounding in her ears. You would be there any second, and she needed to keep everything hidden, for now.

"Hey, pretty girl!" 

Your voice, warm and full of affection, filled the kitchen as you appeared not two seconds later. Asuna's gaze lifted to meet your smiling face, her heart lightening despite the heat pulsing through her hand.

You had changed into your sleek black athletic pants, the fabric hugging your legs comfortably. A tight-fitted cropped jacket adorned your torso, accentuating your form while offering a casual yet put-together look. 

Your hair, freshly redone into softer braids sectioned into fours, framed your face beautifully, adding an extra layer of sophistication to your relaxed demeanor.

Dark, moody lip gloss highlighted your smile, the subtle sheen catching the light as you moved. Your eyeliner was subtle, yet sharp, wings drawn with precision, giving your eyes a striking intensity.

Around your neck, a matching chain to Asuna’s rested, a small but meaningful symbol of the bond you shared. On your wrist, your watch glinted faintly under the kitchen lights, its sleek design complementing the gold anklet that adorned your left ankle, a delicate accessory that added a touch of elegance to your casual ensemble.

You stretched your arms over your head, a soft sigh of relief escaping your lips, the motion causing the gold anklet to shimmer faintly. With a flick of your wrist, you turned on the kitchen fan, the gentle hum filling the space. The cool breeze it provided swept over Asuna, offering a reprieve from the warmth that had begun to suffuse the room. 

‘Thank Kamisama,’ she thought, feeling a bit more at ease as the chill from her popsicle worked to combat the heat radiating from her hand.

Despite her attempts to relax, your keen eyes noticed the new bandage wrapped around her hand. Concern flickered across your features as you tapped the edge of the bandage lightly with the back of a spoon, the gentle tap drawing Asuna’s attention. 

"What's this?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of worry as you handed her a pair of Hello Kitty chopsticks, the familiar pink utensils a small distraction in her hands.

Asuna hesitated, her fingers curling around the chopsticks as she avoided your gaze for a moment, focusing instead on the melting popsicle in her other hand. The cool, sticky sweetness was a welcome distraction, but she knew she couldn’t dodge your question for long.

"Aunty Mina dropped a bowl by accident. She cleaned my hand up," she explained, her voice light, as if it were no big deal. Asuna shifted in her seat, trying to maintain a casual air as she spoke. 

You tilted your head slightly, giving her a thoughtful, " hm, " before nodding.

"Let me see," you asked gently, extending your hand toward her. 

Without much hesitation, Asuna extended her hand, the motion casual and unbothered. Her bandaged palm faced up, the soft cotton wrap obscuring the majority of the red marks that had blossomed there earlier.

You took her hand in yours, your fingers warm and familiar against her skin. Your eyes briefly scanned the bandage, noting its neatness, and a soft smile played at your lips as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to the center of her palm.

"How did you sleep?" you asked, pulling a chair up next to her. Your tone was soft, laced with genuine concern, as you sat down, turning slightly to face her.

Asuna hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying,

"I slept fine." 

The words were smooth, but the underlying truth was evident in the way her eyes shifted briefly, betraying her unease. She returned the question quickly. 

"How about you? How'd you sleep?"

Your smile faltered slightly, though you kept your voice light. 

"Fine," you answered, a mirror of her lie. The reality was far different. Sleep had been elusive, your mind too preoccupied with responsibilities and the day's demands.

Standing, you moved toward the coffee machine, flipping it on with practiced ease. The soft hum of the machine filled the quiet kitchen as you reached into the cabinet above. Your hand hovered briefly over Mina's Celine Dion mug, the familiar design bringing a small smile to your lips as you placed it under the coffee spout.

As the coffee began to drip, you reached for two more mugs, your movements fluid and precise. Eri's mug, a deep red apple design, was next. You placed it beside yours—a gift from Mina—a mug with a volcano that changed color based on the temperature of the drink inside. A small but clever trick that never failed to amuse you.

Your eyes lingered on the shelf as you mentally cataloged the mugs.

Aizawa's black mug with the cat paw print on the bottom came to mind. Shinsou’s Venom mug, tucked away in the very back, was currently on ‘ time out ’. Elle, your manager, had a Cinderella Story mug featuring Hilary Duff. Lastly, there was Grammie Rita’s " #1 Original Gangsta " mug.

You reached for her mug, filling it with coffee as the machine finished its cycle. But as you poured, a sudden realization dawned on you. Your hands stilled, the coffee pot hovering just above the rim. Your gaze drifted out the kitchen window, the view blurring slightly as your thoughts took a sudden turn.

Setting the pot down with deliberate care, you inhaled deeply, the aroma of fresh coffee grounding you momentarily. With a soft sigh, you picked up both mugs and placed them in their designated spots on the counter. Your movements were slower now, more deliberate, as if each action required careful thought.

Asuna watched quietly, noting the subtle shift in your demeanor. 

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

You turned to her, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I will be," you said, your voice calm yet sincere. 

"How’ve you been holding up?"

Asuna shrugged slightly, fiddling with the stick of her popsicle as she considered her answer. "Fine," she said, her tone steady but with an undertone of contemplation. "I miss Grammie Rita… but she was sick for a while. So… her being able to rest now probably gives her peace." Her words were quiet, thoughtful.

Your smile softened, a warmth touching your eyes as you reached out to gently brush a hand over hers. 

"That’s a very mature mindset and attitude about it, Asuna," you said, pride evident in your tone. " But ," you continued, leaning in a little closer, your expression turning serious, "it’s also okay to feel sad about it. Losing someone you love is hard, no matter how much sense it makes."

You held her gaze, ensuring she saw the sincerity in your eyes. 

"I’m here to talk, whenever you need. And if you ever feel like you need someone else to talk to—a therapist, someone who can help you work through your feelings—we can make that happen. Whatever you need or want, I’ll be here to provide it for you. You just have to ask."

Asuna took a deep breath, her grip tightening on the popsicle stick. 

Moments like this—the tenderness, the unwavering support you showed her—played over and over in her mind. They were her anchors during tough training sessions, exams, or even during the quiet moments when she was just living life. You had always been her first best friend, her constant. 

She couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t been there for her. Birthdays, holidays, school events, quiet nights at home—whatever she needed, you provided, often before she even realized she needed it.

Which is why what she was about to ask made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Her chest tightened, a weight settling heavily as her mind raced with the implications of her next words. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to summon the courage to speak. The thought of disappointing you, of disrupting the perfect balance you had created in their world, made her hesitate.

She glanced down at her hand, the red lines barely hidden beneath the bandage. The warmth from earlier lingered faintly, a reminder of her growing inability to control this part of herself. Gathering her resolve, Asuna looked back up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear.

"I… need to tell you something," she started, her voice trembling slightly.

You set your fork down gently, the clink of metal on porcelain resonating softly in the quiet kitchen. Turning fully toward Asuna, you rested your elbows on the kitchen island, your gaze steady and open. 

"I'm here, 'S una. Talk to me," you said softly, your voice warm but attentive, carefully observing her every move. You knew Asuna well—too well to miss the subtle shifts in her demeanor. She was always a straightforward child, seeing the world in stark contrasts, much like… well, like her… yeah. 

Some traits are simply passed down, as natural as breathing.

Asuna’s fingers trembled slightly as she placed her popsicle on the edge of her waffles, her focus now solely on you. Her crimson eyes, those precious blood diamonds you cherished so deeply, met yours. You’d memorized every starburst and flicker in them over the years, each gaze a reminder of your bond. 

"I have something I need to ask," she said, her voice wavering, betraying her internal conflict. Her hands twitched, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from her, a familiar sensation when her emotions surged.

"Go ahead, shoot for the moon even if you're gazing at stars," you encouraged gently. It was your way of telling her that, despite the distraction evident in her expression, you wanted her to be upfront, honest, unburdened. You watched as a bead of sweat formed on her brow, her skin flushed, her breaths shallow. 

The room seemed to grow warmer, almost stifling. Your brows knitted in concern, and you reached out, taking her hands into yours, feeling the warmth emanating from her palms.

"Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?" Your tone shifted, the warmth now edged with a protective sternness, memories flashing back to the terrifying moment with that villain. 

The explosion, the flames licking the sky—you and Shinsou had barely arrived home in time to witness the chaos. Your gut had clenched with fear, knowing it was Asuna caught in the midst of it all.

Asuna shook her head quickly, blinking hard as if trying to clear the haze. 

"No, no, Mom, I’m fine," she started, her words rushed and defensive. But then, she paused, her body tensing as if realizing the weight of what she was trying to convey. "Actually, no," she corrected, her voice quieter but firm. 

"I'm not fine."

Her admission hung in the air, heavy and raw. You squeezed her hands gently, grounding her, silently urging her to continue, to let it all out.

"I need to ask you about my father." 

Her voice is steady, direct. It was such a quintessentially Asuna moment—honest and to the point, without a hint of hesitation. That was your Asuna.

Your Asuna.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t breathe. 

The words hung in the air like an unspoken storm, one you had always known would come, yet had never truly prepared for. The girl sitting across from you now, with her determined gaze and the weight of years of questions in her eyes, didn’t look like the fierce, 16 year old hero in training she had become. 

No, as you looked at her, time rewound itself in the corners of your mind.

In an instant, she was three years old again. Her hair was pulled into space buns, adorned with those little flower clips and beads she had been so fond of. You could almost hear the soft click-clack of the beads as she ran, her small feet padding across the floor. She was at the dining table, making hand turkeys with the same focused determination she now channeled into her training. The memory of her laughter echoed faintly as she asked for, " pasgetti ," chasing after Grammie Rita’s long braids as they nearly skimmed the floor, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp what felt like magic to her young heart.

Then, she was five, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her small brow furrowed as she sternly corrected Shinsou on how to play dolls properly. You could still see the exaggerated expression on Shinsou’s face, hear the high-pitched, falsetto voice he put on, following Asuna's instructions with a smirk. The memories tumbled forward, flashing like scenes in an old film reel.

She was ten, sitting across from Aizawa, confidently debating quirk theories as though she were his equal. She had always been so perceptive, so bold, even back then, telling him that if he didn’t take better care of himself, his body was going to give out. Her arms crossed, the same determined stance she had now, softened only by her concern for him.

At fourteen, she had been ecstatic to ride in her first limo, sitting beside you and Elle, her excitement infectious. It had been late, after a hero event, but you had wanted her company, needing her warmth to combat the long hours. At fifteen, she had her first set of nails done with Mina, the two of them matching charms and colors, giggling like the teenagers they were.

And now, she was sixteen. Training relentlessly with Eri, pushing herself beyond limits. You recalled the evenings spent with flashcards in hand, reading out questions as she dodged oncoming attacks, trying to train her mind as much as her body, always striving to be better.

She was your Asuna. 

Soft and lovely, fierce and brilliant. 

Every version of her etched deeply into your heart, forming a mosaic of who she had been and who she was becoming. But now, those precious eyes—eyes you had traced a thousand times—held something else. They held the question you had known would come but had always hoped to postpone. 

The question of her father.

Your hands, still holding hers, tightened ever so slightly. You felt the tremble in your fingers, the memories and emotions swirling together in a chaotic dance. This day was inevitable. You had always known that. 

Only, you thought you had more time. 

Time to find the right words, time to craft the perfect explanation. But after yesterday, the weight of everything crashing down, you realized how foolish that hope had been. Of course, she would ask now. Of course, she would seek the answers she was owed.

Asuna watched you closely, her eyes scanning every flicker of emotion across your face. 

She was patient, waiting, not with the impatience of a child but with the resolve of someone who understood the gravity of what she was asking. She had every right to know, every right to ask. And you, her constant, her anchor, owed her the truth.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. Your voice, when you finally spoke, was soft but unwavering. 

"Asuna, there’s so much I want to say, but more than anything, I want you to know that I’m here. Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you. I won’t hide anything from you." You paused, squeezing her hands gently, grounding both of you. "You’ve always been brave, always faced things head-on, and I’m so proud of you for that. I’m proud of you for asking."

Asuna’s gaze didn’t waver, her eyes locked on yours as she inhaled deeply. 

The kitchen around you seemed to hold its breath, the morning light filtering through the windows casting a soft glow over the space, highlighting the quiet tension in the air. The hum of the coffee machine was the only sound, a subtle reminder of the mundane amidst the profound.

Her hands, clasped tightly in yours, were warm, slightly damp from sweat, but you didn’t let go. You held on, anchoring her to the moment, grounding her in the reassurance that you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere.

"What does he like?"

 Asuna asked, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of vulnerability. 

"What does he dislike? Is the story about how you two met real?"

You nodded, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a soothing motion. "Yes, the story I told you is real. We met during school—he was smart, and had a strong sense of justice. He loved books. He has a quiet demeanor but a sharp wit, always keeping people on their toes. He hates dishonesty, more than anything, and he has a soft spot for sharks."

Asuna absorbed your words, her eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined before lifting again, her gaze searching. 

"Is he Japanese? American? A foreigner?"

"He’s Japanese," you answered softly. "Born and raised here, though his work sometimes takes him overseas. He was always curious about the world, eager to understand different perspectives."

Her brow furrowed slightly, her fingers tightening around yours. 

"Does everyone else know him? I mean, do... do they know about him? Why didn't your classmates know about me?"

You took a moment before answering, wanting to choose your words carefully. 

"A few people know him, yes. But he’s very private, always has been. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe from the dangers that came with my work. So, not many people know the full story."

Asuna nodded slowly, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and questions. 

Her eyes glistened, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought to process the onslaught of information. She took a shaky breath, her gaze drifting momentarily to the kitchen around her. 

The familiar setting felt strange now, as if it had shifted just slightly in light of everything she was learning. The coffee mugs on the counter, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the faint scent of waffles in the air—all these everyday details seemed to take on a different significance. 

Asuna’s next question came with a slight tremor in her voice, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. 

"Does he... does he know about me?"

The room seemed to grow quieter, the weight of her question settling over you both. You could see her throat working, her breath shallow as she waited, hope and fear mingling in her expression. You squeezed her hands gently, leaning in slightly.

"Asuna, listen to me. He—"

Before you could answer Asuna’s pressing question, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the tension. Mina burst into the kitchen, her vibrant energy filling the space. "We're late!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of urgency and her usual upbeat tone. "With traffic, it’s gonna take almost forty minutes to get to school and work on time!"

You and Asuna both jumped at her sudden entrance, the heavy atmosphere disrupted in an instant. Mina, mid-rush, froze as she took in the scene before her—Asuna with her hands resting on the counter, your fingers still lightly wrapped around hers, both of you looking a bit shell-shocked. She blinked, her eyes flicking between you two.

"Am I intruding?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but Asuna beat you to it. Her voice was even, but there was a subtle edge to it, a deliberate choice to maintain the moment’s privacy.

"Nope. Let's take the food to go." She grabbed her plate, turning toward the cabinet where you kept the Tupperware.

Recognizing her desire to put a pause on the conversation, you nodded slightly and turned to Mina with a small smile. "Looks like it’s breakfast on the road today," you said, slipping back into a more casual tone. Together, you and Mina began cleaning up the plates. The rhythmic clink of dishes and the hum of the coffee machine became the backdrop to your resumed lighthearted banter.

"You’d think with all your hero training, you’d master the art of punctuality," you teased, giving Mina a playful nudge as you rinsed off a plate.

"Hey, I run on Mina time," she grinned, taking a swig of her coffee. "Which is way more fun and adventurous!"

Asuna returned, handing a Tupperware to Mina for her own breakfast. "Here, take this. I know you’ll just end up snacking on something unhealthy otherwise."

"Aw, thanks, 'Suna!" Mina accepted it gratefully, then glanced at her mug. "I’ll bring this back later, promise," she said, raising the mug in a mock toast before adding it to her haul.

Meanwhile, you grabbed your own coffee, sipping quickly, knowing you wouldn’t have time to fully enjoy it. Mornings had never been your strong suit, especially since your pregnancy with Asuna. Eating early in the day always felt like a chore, your appetite preferring a hearty lunch and an even bigger dinner to compensate. It had just become routine.

With breakfast packed, the three of you shifted into the familiar flurry of getting ready. Asuna tugged on her sneakers, her expression focused as she adjusted her laces, while Mina hopped around, wrestling with her boots. You grabbed your purse, work bag, and the distinct red book bag that Asuna never left behind. Your fingers instinctively reached for the keys tucked securely in your bra, a habit born out of convenience.

"Everyone ready?" you called, herding the group toward the door.

"Ready as we’ll ever be!" Mina chimed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Asuna, already at the door, held it open, her earlier intensity softened but still present in her posture. You ushered them both out, locking the door behind you, the morning sun shining down as you all piled into the car, the day's routine pulling you back into its familiar rhythm.

The ride to U.A. was unusually quiet. 

Asuna sat in the back of Mina's bright pink Jeep, her breakfast in her lap, her movements stiff and deliberate. Each bite she took seemed more out of frustration than hunger. She chewed aggressively, her thoughts swirling around the conversation that had been interrupted earlier. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn't asked the right questions—at least not the ones she truly needed answers to about her father. Her grip on the fork tightened as her mind raced, her gaze fixed out the window at the blur of city streets.

Her hand, wrapped in a bandage, caught her attention. Slowly, she peeled it back, revealing the angry red scab beneath. It itched like hell. She pressed a finger gently against the edges, wincing slightly. 

" Great ," she muttered under her breath. The sight of it only added to her simmering annoyance, but she didn’t want to dwell on it.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly through her feed, hoping for a distraction. But nothing seemed to hold her attention. After a few minutes, she gave up, slipping the phone back into her pocket. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes, and let the sound of your conversation with Mina fill the car. The cheerful chatter mixed with the low hum of the engine and the upbeat energy of Present Mic’s radio show playing softly in the background. 

Asuna used to hate that station, the relentless enthusiasm grating on her nerves. She even told Present Mic as much during her first orientation at U.A., much to the pro-hero’s amused surprise.

Time seemed to warp as she drifted between half-consciousness and thought, the familiar rhythm of the morning commute lulling her into a semblance of calm. Before she knew it, the Jeep slowed to a stop in front of U.A.'s imposing gates.

You turned in your seat to look at her, your eyes filled with concern. 

"Asuna," you said softly, handing her a red coat. "Here, put this on. It’s freezing out." You watched as she slipped it on, pulling the collar up against the chill in the air. Stepping out, you came around to her side, straightening the coat and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. 

"Are you sure you’re up for today? You can skip if you want. I won’t tell anyone," you offered, your voice gentle, a hint of worry seeping through your usual firmness.

Asuna hesitated for a moment, her fingers fiddling with the zipper of her coat. The thought of skipping was tempting, especially with everything weighing on her mind, but her sense of responsibility won out. She sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

"Nah, I’ll be fine. Don’t go getting all soft on me, old lady," she teased, leaning in as you kissed her cheek.

You chuckled, watching her as she adjusted her bag and waved. "Bye for now," she said, her voice carrying a note of resolve as she trudged toward the school. The cold seemed to bite at her, the temperature hovering at a frigid 28 degrees. The clouds overhead were thick and heavy, threatening snow that just wouldn’t fall.

You stood there, watching her all the way to the gates, a proud smile on your face despite the ache in your chest. As you turned to head back to the Jeep, the sound of quick, heavy footsteps made you pause. 

Before you could react, you were wrapped in a tight hug from behind, strong arms circling your middle. Your hands instinctively rested over them, the warmth of the embrace chasing away the cold for a brief moment.

"Talk to you later, Mom!" Asuna’s voice was bright, and before you could respond, she had already dashed off, her figure disappearing into the school grounds.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you climbed back into Mina’s Jeep. She glanced at you, her curiosity evident. 

"So... was that the 'Katsuki talk'?"

You sighed, the weight of the morning settling on your shoulders. 

" Kinda ," you admitted, your eyes lingering on the school as Mina pulled away. The world outside blurred past, but your thoughts remained anchored to Asuna, replaying every word and glance, each moment etched into your heart.

—

Katsuki and Kirishima made their way through the busy city center, their patrol a familiar routine amidst the city's controlled chaos. The morning buzz filtered through the buildings, store staff setting up Christmas displays, long strings of lights danced along the pavement. Despite the noise of the city, their walk was a comfortable silence.

The pair turned a corner, the scent of freshly brewed coffee pulling them towards a quaint café tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It was a cozy spot, a recommendation from Todoroki and Momo, who apparently frequented it enough to have a photo mounted on the wall. The picture of the two heroes eating in their uniforms, both sporting startled expressions, was labeled, ‘ Best Customers .’

An accolade that Katsuki found mildly amusing.

Katsuki hummed to himself, pulling out his phone to check a notification. Your response to his earlier voicemail—a simple thumbs-up emoji—had his stomach flipping in a way he found irritatingly distracting. He slid the phone back into his pocket, trying to suppress the grin threatening to surface.

"You want anything else, man?" Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts as they reached the counter.

"No," Katsuki replied, reaching for his wallet. Before he could even open it, Kirishima had already thrown his card into the slot, grinning widely.

"My treat," Kirishima said, turning to the barista with a friendly smile. He tipped her twenty dollars, waving off her surprised gratitude with a casual "Keep it. Thanks for the great service."

The barista, a young woman with bright eyes and a cheerful demeanor, thanked them profusely and gestured toward the seating area. "Feel free to sit while we finish brewing your order."

Kirishima nodded, following Katsuki to a corner table near the window. The café was warm and inviting, the soft hum of conversation and gentle clinking of cups creating a serene ambiance. The decor was a mix of rustic charm and modern aesthetics—wooden beams, exposed brick walls, and sleek furniture. Potted plants were scattered throughout, adding a touch of greenery to the space.

Katsuki settled into a chair, his eyes scanning the room as he drummed his fingers on the table. "You didn’t have to pay, you know," he muttered, still a little put off by the gesture. Kirishima shrugged, his easygoing smile never wavering. "I wanted to. Besides, you always get me back later."

A comfortable silence fell between them until Kirishima leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, how’s everything with her? You know, after ‘Hit ‘em up’ ?" He chuckled, referring to Asuna’s fiendish display of giving them both the middle finger. Katsuki scowled, his face contorting in irritation. "What about it?"

Kirishima’s laughter grew louder, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "It just reminded me of you back in high school. The way she did it, with that same fiery attitude—it’s totally you." Katsuki’s frown deepened, his voice rising in protest.

"What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t like that!"

Kirishima leaned back, his hands raised in mock surrender, trying to calm his friend. "Shush, man. You're gonna scare the other customers." His grin softened. "I mean it in a good way. She's got your spirit, you know?"

Katsuki’s scowl softened marginally, though he still looked unconvinced. 

"Tch. Whatever."

Before they could delve further into the topic, the soft chime of the café’s doorbell drew their attention. Katsuki glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly as a familiar figure with violet hair stepped inside. The newcomer’s gaze swept the room before landing on them, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was none other than Hitoshi Shinsou.

Katsuki’s eyes met Shinsou’s, and for a moment, the world outside the café seemed to fade away. Shinsou made his way toward them, his casual stride and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension Katsuki suddenly felt creeping up his spine.

"Mind if I join?" Shinsou asked, his voice low and smooth as he reached their table.

Kirishima grinned, gesturing to the empty seat. 

"Sure thing, man! Grab a chair."

As Shinso settled in, Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his mind already spinning with questions about why Shinso was here. The café, once a peaceful retreat, now felt like the stage for an impending confrontation, the undercurrents of past interactions simmering just below the surface.

Kirishima remained blissfully unaware of the tension simmering beneath the surface, his usual bright demeanor shining as he glanced between Katsuki and Shinso. The redhead’s easy smile faltered slightly as he took in Katsuki’s stiff posture, the way his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. Kirishima wasn’t sure what had Katsuki so worked up, but it was clear that Shinso’s presence was far from welcome.

Shinso, for his part, seemed unfazed. Dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, he exuded a calm confidence as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes flicked from Kirishima to Katsuki, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he broke the silence. "Just picking up a few orders of red bean paste buns and some bagels," he said casually. "Figured I'd grab them before the place gets too crowded."

Kirishima nodded, his gaze shifting between the two men. He could feel the unease in the air, though he couldn't pinpoint its source. "Sounds good, man. How’s your morning been?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Not bad," Shinso replied, his tone easy. "Just a quiet start before my next shift. Planning to catch up on some sleep after this, then switching to day shifts until Christmas break."

Kirishima’s eyes lit up at the mention of the holidays. "Christmas break, huh? That sounds nice. I'm looking forward to it, too. Got some whale blubber for my mom to cook up—can’t wait to be home and relax a bit." Shinso chuckled softly, nodding.

"Yeah, it'll be good to spend some time with family." His words were casual, but there was a glint in his eye that Katsuki didn’t miss.

Kirishima’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as he kept the conversation going. "You got any big plans for the break?"

Shinso shook his head. "Just the usual family stuff. Nothing too crazy."

As the conversation continued, Kirishima noticed the way Katsuki’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table, his eyes locked on Shinso with a steely intensity. It was as if Katsuki was holding himself back, his muscles taut beneath his hero jacket. The café's warm, welcoming atmosphere felt incongruent with the silent storm brewing at their table.

Trying to diffuse the tension, Kirishima turned to Katsuki with a cheerful grin. "What about you, bro? Got any plans for the break?"

Katsuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held Shinso’s gaze, the silence stretching uncomfortably as he seemed to weigh his response. Finally, his voice came out low, measured, and full of unspoken warning. 

"No plans worth mentioning, ta you."

Kirishima blinked, taken aback by the curt response. He wasn’t used to seeing Katsuki this wound up unless something serious was going on. Glancing at Shinso, he noted how the man seemed utterly at ease, sipping on a cup of tea that the barista had just placed in front of him.

He leaned back slightly, his mind working to piece together the puzzle. Kirishima sensed there was more to this interaction than met the eye, but for now, he let it be, focusing instead on the comfort of the café. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, the soft murmur of other patrons providing a backdrop to the tense scene unfolding at their table.

The barista called out Shinso’s order, and he stood, casting one last glance at Katsuki. 

"Well, guess that’s my cue. See you around."

Katsuki didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he watched Shinso leave. Kirishima waited until the door chimed shut behind him before turning to Katsuki, his concern evident. 

"You good, man? You seem... tense."

Katsuki exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m fine," he muttered, though the rigidity in his posture suggested otherwise. Kirishima didn’t press further, instead offering a reassuring smile. 

"Alright, if you say so. Let’s finish up here and get back to patrol. Maybe some action will take your mind off whatever’s bugging you."

Katsuki nodded, though his eyes lingered on the door, his thoughts far from the cozy confines of the café.

—

Asuna sat cross-legged on the edge of Aizawa’s desk, her lunch tray balanced precariously as she poked at the contents. The chicken salad and bright red and yellow bell peppers glistened under the soft overhead lights of the classroom. She twirled a piece of lettuce around her fork absentmindedly before letting it drop back onto the plate, her appetite waning. Across from her, Aizawa sat in his chair, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his chest. His head tilted back, eyes closed, the usual stern lines of his face softened in repose. Despite his relaxed demeanor, his voice still carried a hint of dry amusement as he commented,

“It’s a miracle your stomach hasn’t given out yet with the way you eat.”

Asuna smirked, picking up a slice of pepper and crunching down on it noisily. “My stomach’s made of steel, Gramps. I could eat nails for breakfast.”

Aizawa’s eyes opened just a sliver, one brow arching before he closed them again, mumbling,

“Please.. don't.”

The classroom was quiet save for the distant hum of students in the hallways. Posters of pro heroes adorned the walls, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the subdued tones of the wooden desks arranged in neat rows. The windows along the far wall let in the muted gray light of the overcast day, casting long shadows across the room.

Asuna’s fingers tapped rhythmically on her phone screen, her attention divided between her lunch and the small blinking dot on her location service app. She felt the slight weight of guilt press down as she watched the dot move steadily through the city center. Slipping the tracking bracelet into your jacket pocket during the morning hug had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. 

Was it wrong? 

Absolutely. 

But Asuna had convinced herself it was a necessary measure.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, the plan forming in her mind. She knew you were meeting Katsuni—“Kat-sui” or something, around noon. The prospect of seeing this encounter unfold tugged at her curiosity. If she could just convince Rumi to take her to the city center park, she could “ accidentally ” get lost in the crowd and stumble upon the meeting.

The thought made her stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She bit her lip, eyes darting to Aizawa, who was now humming softly, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. His calm presence was both a comfort and a challenge. Asuna knew he had an uncanny ability to sense when something was up, but he seemed content for the moment, resting in the calm between lessons.

“Gramps?” she ventured, her voice light, testing the waters.

“Hmm?” Aizawa turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open to look at her.

“What’s your stance on spontaneous adventures?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as she twirled her fork in the air.

Aizawa’s gaze sharpened slightly, though his posture remained relaxed. 

“Depends on the adventure. Why? Are you planning something?”

Asuna shrugged, setting her fork down and leaning back on her hands. “Just thinking about the weekend. Might ask Rumi to take me to the city center. You know, fresh air, some exercise. Maybe get a little lost.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 

“Getting lost doesn’t sound like a great idea.”

“Not really lost,” Asuna amended quickly, waving a hand. 

“Just... exploring .”

He hummed again, a knowing look in his eyes as he studied her. 

“Exploring, huh? Just don’t get into trouble.”

“Me? Trouble? Never .” Asuna grinned, picking up another pepper slice and popping it into her mouth.

Aizawa sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes once more. 

“Whatever you’re planning, keep it safe.”

Asuna nodded, more to herself than to him, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone. The plan was set. Now, all she had to do was convince Rumi.

Finally, after more boring hours of sitting and being bored, the final bell of the day rang out, its resonant chime echoing through the hallways as students flooded out of their classrooms, eager for the freedom of winter break. In Aizawa’s dimly lit room, the atmosphere was more subdued. 

The faint clatter of chairs being pushed back and the hum of conversation faded as the last student left, leaving Asuna and Aizawa in a pocket of calm amidst the departing chaos.

Aizawa leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes following Asuna as she methodically gathered her things. He cleared his throat, causing her to glance up from where she had been stuffing her lunch container back into her bag.

"Heading home with me and Eri?" he asked, his tone even but expectant.

Asuna shook her head, offering a small smile. "Rumi’s picking me up today," she replied, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

Aizawa nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. He motioned toward the desks, silently asking for her help. Asuna set her bag down and began tidying up, stacking chairs onto desks and erasing the lingering notes on the whiteboard. The familiar routine brought a sense of normalcy, the quiet rhythm of their work a balm to the nerves that buzzed just beneath her skin.

"How’s your quirk been?" Aizawa asked casually as he wiped down his desk. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern in his voice, a careful probing.

Asuna paused, her fingers trailing over a stray piece of paper. 

"It’s been fine," she said, her voice soft. 

"No major issues."

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, he pivoted to a different question, one that made Asuna stiffen slightly. 

"Have you told her about the most recent incident?"

The weight of his gaze settled heavily on her, and she fidgeted with her sleeves, the fabric crumpling under her fingers. She didn’t meet his eyes immediately, focusing instead on straightening a pile of textbooks.

"I’m getting around to it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa’s brow furrowed, his arms crossing over his chest as he regarded her with a mixture of patience and concern. 

"It’s important she knows, Asuna."

Asuna nodded, her mind drifting back to the incident. 

Her day had begun like any other, filled with the usual bustle of school life. She’d been tasked with delivering some papers to the office, a simple enough chore that offered a brief reprieve from the suffocation of her classmates. She was lost in her thoughts, her fingers brushing lightly against the folded papers in her hands as she walked the quiet halls. However, the tranquility was short-lived.

In the office, as she handed the papers over, a boy from her class, whom she barely noticed until then, caught sight of the forms she carried. His eyes quickly scanned over the lines, lingering on the space labeled "Second Parent." 

There, the field was blank. Usually, Asuna would fill in "Grammie Rita" or occasionally mention Aizawa, Mina, or even Shinsou, and recently, Rumi. 

But this time, there was only one name: yours.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes as he asked, his tone neutral enough, "Why's that blank? You usually fill it in." Asuna, feeling no need to hide her intentions, replied with a small shrug, "I meant to put only my mom’s name this time."

At first, his response seemed fine. He nodded, and they went about their day. 

It wasn’t until training later that his true colors emerged.

The gym buzzed with the usual energy of students ready to test their limits. Asuna stood at the edge, her hair neatly pulled into a bun, eyes focused on the task at hand. She was bracing herself for the physical demands ahead when she felt a sharp tug at her hair. She turned just in time to hear the boy sneer, his voice laced with venom, 

"Fatherless bitch."

For a moment, everything stood still. 

The words hung heavy in the air, sinking into her chest. The snickers from a few nearby students echoed in her ears, but her mind honed in on the insult, each syllable striking a nerve she didn’t know was so exposed.

Her breath hitched, a fiery rage bubbling up from within. Asuna was no stranger to insults, but this—this was different. Her fist clenched at her side, trembling with barely contained fury. Without a second thought, she spun around and punched him square in the face, her knuckles connecting with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back, clutching his nose, a look of shock and pain spreading across his features.

But Asuna wasn’t done. 

At least, her quirk wasn’t.

The energy that simmered beneath her skin now surged forward, a potent mix of her power and unbridled emotion. Her palms opened, fingers splayed as a scorching heat radiated from her. Her breath was ragged, her body vibrating with raw power.

With a guttural scream, she released it all. Flames and light burst from her hands, feet, and even her mouth. The blast was a brilliant, chaotic explosion, swallowing everything in its path. The force sent students sprawling, the shockwave reverberating through the gym.

When the dust settled, the gym was in ruins. 

The once pristine training grounds were scorched, debris scattered across what remained. Part of the walls had collapsed, and the floor bore the marks of her unleashed fury.

Asuna stood in the center, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow. The boy lay sprawled a few meters away, groaning as he tried to remain concious, his face bloodied and bruised.

Silence hung thick in the air, the aftermath of destruction as stark as the echo of her outburst. 

She didn’t flinch when the others stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. 

Instead, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze unwavering as she looked down at the boy who dared to mock her.

The doors to the gym burst open, teachers and pro heroes rushing in, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. Aizawa was the first to reach her, his capture weapon poised but hesitant. His eyes, always so calm and calculating, now brimmed with worry.

"Asuna," he said softly, stepping closer, "What happened?"

Her gaze flicked to him, her posture tense. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she just shook her head, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind a hollow ache.

Nezu had tried to contact you, but with Elle blocking non-essential calls, the message hadn’t gotten through.

Yet.

Aizawa had handled it swiftly, expelling the boy without hesitation. 

The boy’s parents had demanded a conference to appeal the decision, a meeting for which you would be summoned. The weight of it all pressed down on Asuna’s chest as she stood there, her fingers tightening around the edge of a desk. Aizawa’s hand rested gently on her shoulder, grounding her.

"You’ll tell her," he said, his voice softer now, more reassuring. "And I’ll handle the rest."

Asuna exhaled slowly, nodding. She trusted Aizawa, but the thought of confronting the incident with you still made her stomach twist. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and lingering uncertainty.

"Thanks, Gramps," she said quietly, returning to the task of cleaning up, the familiar motions providing a small measure of comfort in the midst of the storm brewing inside her.

Asuna’s thoughts lingered on the fear that gripped her when her quirk spiraled out of control. 

It wasn’t just the overwhelming heat or the force of the blast—it was the suffocating sensation that followed, a panic that clenched her chest and stole her breath. It wasn’t like her asthma, where she knew what to expect and how to manage it. This was a chaotic storm inside her, unpredictable and terrifying.

Aizawa had been patient, working with her to find ways to train around her asthma. Like a seasoned coach, he had guided her through breathing exercises and techniques used by pro athletes, ensuring she could push her limits without compromising her health. But lately, the energy blast incidents had become more frequent, the fear creeping in that she was losing control. 

Some days, it felt like her very bones were itching, a discomfort so intense she wanted to peel her skin off and dunk herself into a cool bowl of water. Other days, the chill seeped into her core, leaving her shivering and longing for the warmth that you reveled in.

The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. 

She looked up to see Rumi and Eri standing at the door, bundled up in sporty winter gear. Rumi wore a sleek, white puffer jacket that hugged her athletic frame, paired with black leggings and fur-lined boots. Her usual confidence radiated through the casual outfit, the jacket's high collar brushing against her chin as she smiled warmly. 

Eri was a bundle of pastel fluff, her lavender coat oversized and adorned with little bunny ear accents on the hood. She had on mittens that matched, a splash of pink peeking out from the cuffs of her coat, and her boots were dusted with snow, giving her a cozy, doll-like appearance.

" Asuna !" Eri chirped, her face lighting up as she ran toward her. Asuna ran forward, arms opening just in time to catch the small girl in a warm embrace. The two hugged tightly, and Rumi soon joined, enveloping them both in a strong, comforting squeeze. The shared warmth between them melted some of the tension from Asuna’s shoulders.

Eri, with a mischievous grin, tugged at Aizawa’s scarf, pulling him into the group hug. He resisted briefly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips before he relented, leaning down just enough for Eri to wrap her small arms around his neck. Rumi chuckled at the sight, exchanging a knowing glance with Asuna.

While Eri busied herself with Aizawa’s scarf, Rumi turned to Aizawa, her tone shifting to a more serious note. "How’s she been holding up?" she asked quietly, her eyes flicking to Asuna.

Aizawa’s gaze softened as he glanced at the girl, who was now holding Eri’s hand. "She’s been doing well, considering," he replied. "We’ve had a few hiccups, but she’s resilient."

Rumi nodded thoughtfully, her hands slipping into her jacket pockets. "Good. Let me know if you need anything. You know we’ve got her back."

Asuna, catching the end of their conversation, gave Rumi a grateful smile before squeezing Eri’s hand. 

"Hey, Eri," she said, her voice light. 

"Let’s go take a walk. I need to freshen up a bit."

Eri nodded enthusiastically, and the two girls headed toward the bathroom, their footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. Asuna glanced back at Rumi and Aizawa, who continued their conversation in hushed tones, the weight of responsibility evident in their postures.

Once inside the bathroom, Asuna leaned against the sink, exhaling slowly. Eri, ever observant, stood by her side, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. 

"Asuna, are you okay?" she asked, her voice small.

Asuna smiled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Eri’s ear. "I’m okay, Eri. Just... a lot on my mind," she admitted. The cool tiles under her hands grounded her, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

In the quiet of the bathroom, Asuna turned to Eri, her hands twisting nervously. "Eri, I have a plan," she began, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I want to follow mom before noon in the city central park. But I don’t want her or anyone else to notice me."

Eri tilted her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. "How are you going to do that?" she asked.

Asuna bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "I was thinking... we could switch coats and accessories. That way, I’ll blend in, and you can cover for me if anyone asks."

Eri frowned slightly, the weight of the request sinking in. "Are you sure about this?" she asked softly. "What if something goes wrong?"

"I know it’s a risk," Asuna admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "But this is really important to me. I need to see him, to... sort things out. Please, Eri."

The younger girl looked at Asuna for a long moment, the conflict evident in her eyes. She didn’t fully agree with the plan, but she also knew how much this meant to Asuna. With a small sigh, she nodded. "Okay. But you have to be ready to accept whatever happens."

Asuna's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Eri. I promise, I’ll be careful."

They began the process of swapping clothes. Asuna slipped out of her red coat, the fabric rustling as she handed it to Eri. Eri shrugged it on, the bright color contrasting wonderfully with her pale complexion. In return, Eri handed over her lavender coat, its softness a comfort as Asuna pulled it on. The coat was a little snug, but it fit well enough to pass.

Next, they exchanged accessories. Asuna pulled out a set of black scarf, gloves, and a hat that matched the coat’s style but in a darker shade. She wrapped the scarf around Eri’s neck, the knitted fabric warm against her skin, and tugged the hat over her hair, tucking in any loose strands. Eri handed over her earmuffs, gloves, and scarf, the pastel colors a stark contrast against Asuna’s darker attire.

Asuna pulled on a pair of leg warmers, the soft material snug around her calves, completing the transformation. She turned to Eri, a nervous smile on her face. 

"How do I look?"

Eri stepped back, her gaze sweeping over Asuna’s disguised form. After a moment, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Asuna in a tight hug. "You look great," she whispered.

"But please, be careful."

Asuna hugged her back, the warmth of Eri’s embrace filling her with a sense of reassurance. "I will, I promise," she murmured.

They pulled back, and Eri gave her a small, encouraging smile. "You’ll be okay. Just don’t do anything too crazy." Asuna chuckled softly, adjusting the scarf around her neck. "No promises," she teased lightly. She turned to the door before feeling a hard tug on her sleeve. 

“Wait.”

In the dimly lit bathroom, the air was thick with the quiet tension between Asuna and Eri. Asuna stepped back from the door, one arm crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Eri, standing behind her, mirrored the same seriousness, her usual gentle demeanor replaced with a deep concern for her friend.

"You’re really trying to meet with Bakugou, aren’t you?" Eri began, her voice soft but carrying a weight of concern that made Asuna pause. The gentle cadence of her friend's words was like a soft nudge against the rising tide of uncertainty within her. Asuna's brows furrowed as she processed the statement, her fingers curling slightly against the cool surface of the sink. The name lingered in the air between them, heavy with implications. 

"Bakugou ? ..." she repeated, her tone careful, as though saying it aloud might shatter the fragile hope she held onto.

She let the name roll around in her mind, tasting the weight and texture of it until it settled with a sense of finality. ‘Bakugou ,’ she confirmed silently, her head dipping in a slow nod. Her heart thudded in her chest as she gripped the edge of the coat tighter, the porcelain pressing into her palms like a lifeline.

"I know we got lucky last night with the tracker," Asuna began, her voice trembling slightly but gaining strength with each word. "But I have to know. I need to know if he’s my dad or not. I can't keep living like this, not knowing the truth." 

The words spilled out in a rush, a confession that had been clawing its way to the surface for far too long.

Eri stepped closer, the soft rustle of her movement breaking the silence. Her hand reached out, fingers curling gently around Asuna's arm, grounding her in the present. 

"I get it," Eri whispered, her thumb brushing over the fabric of Asuna's sleeve in a soothing motion. The warmth of her touch was a stark contrast to the cold knot of anxiety tightening in Asuna's chest. 

"But what if there’s a good reason your mom hasn’t told you? What if she’s protecting you from something?"

Asuna's gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay. The weight of unspoken fears pressed down on her, but she forced herself to confront them. "I’ll understand if he’s not my dad," she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. The vulnerability in her tone was palpable, a stark contrast to the determination shining in her eyes.

"But if he is," she continued, a fierce resolve hardening her words, "or if it’s that Kirishima guy instead, I need to know. I’ve been left in the dark for too long, Eri. It's eating me alive ." 

Eri watched her friend, the weight of Asuna's words pressing down on her heart. The silence between them was heavy.

"What if he finds out and doesn’t want to be your dad?" she asked cautiously. 

"Or worse, what if he already knew and didn’t want to be part of your life?"

Asuna's eyes flicked back up, her expression hardening with a steely resolve. "If he doesn’t want to be my dad, that’s his loss," she said firmly. "I’ll move on and become a success without him. But I have to know, Eri. I can’t keep looking in the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back at me."

Eri considered this for a moment, the silence stretching between them. Then, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling Asuna into a tight hug. 

"Okay," she whispered. "I’ll help you. But you have to keep me posted. Don’t do anything crazy without telling me, got it?"

Asuna hugged her back, the warmth of Eri’s embrace soothing some of the tension in her body. "Thank you," she murmured. "I promise I’ll keep you in the loop." They pulled apart, Eri's hands resting on Asuna's shoulders as she gave her a reassuring smile. 

"Just... be careful, okay? This isn’t something you can take back once it’s out there."

"I know," Asuna replied, her eyes shining with a mix of determination and gratitude. "But I have to do this. For me."

Eri nodded, squeezing her shoulders one last time before stepping back. "Alright. Let’s go back."

Asuna's lips curved into a small, hesitant smile, the kind that wavered at the edges but grew steadier as she held onto it. Her heart beat a little faster, each thump echoing with a growing resolve. She didn’t feel entirely ready—how could she be? But she knew she couldn’t keep running from the truth. 

Whatever was waiting for her, no matter how painful or complicated, she had to face it.

She could only hope you’d forgive her. 

—

The winter afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the bustling city streets, where the festive spirit was palpable. Decorations adorned every lamppost, and shop windows glittered with holiday displays, enticing last-minute shoppers and families enjoying their day off. The hum of conversations and laughter mixed with the occasional jingle of bells, creating a vibrant backdrop to the scene unfolding.

Rumi, Eri, and Asuna stood at the school’s entrance, their breath visible in the crisp air as they bundled up against the chill. Asuna adjusted the scarf around her neck, its fabric soft and comforting as it shielded her from the cold. Eri’s cheeks were flushed, her smile gentle as she pulled her hat snugly over her ears. Rumi, never one to be cold but built like a furnace, wrapped an arm around both girls, her energy radiating warmth despite the frosty weather.

"Alright, girls," Rumi said, her voice cheerful as she leaned in to squeeze them both. "We’ve got a big day ahead, and I expect to see some serious skating skills from you, Asuna!"

Aizawa watched the exchange from a few steps away, his usual stoic expression softened by the sight of the girls’ friendship. He assumed the switch of outfits was just a playful fashion choice, his brow lifting slightly as he took in their matching smiles.

"Don’t keep Rumi out too late," he said, addressing both Asuna and Eri with a small smirk. "She has to keep up with you two, after all."

Rumi chuckled, giving Aizawa a playful nudge. "Don’t worry, Aizawa. I’ll have them back in one piece. We’re just hitting the park for some climbing and skating."

Asuna waved a final goodbye, following Rumi down the steps as Eri lingered behind, watching them with a mix of anticipation and concern. She knew this was important to Asuna, and she could only hope everything would turn out okay.

—

Meanwhile, across the city, you walked through the crowded streets, your presence commanding attention without effort. Dressed in a stylish coat that flattered your figure, you moved with purpose, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces as you smiled and waved at the dozens of civilians who recognized you. Some approached shyly for an autograph, which you graciously provided, your marker gliding smoothly over pieces of paper and the occasional piece of merchandise.

The city center was alive with activity. 

Children tugged on their parents’ hands, pointing excitedly at window displays, while couples strolled arm in arm, their breath mingling in the cold air. The festive ambiance was contagious, and though you smiled and engaged with those around you, your mind was elsewhere.

Asuna’s hug that morning lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of the weight she carried and the secrets she sought to uncover. Your heart twisted with the familiar ache of uncertainty, the question of responsibility looming over you like a storm cloud.

In your ear, Elle’s voice brought you back to the present. 

"We’ve got the latest data from your most recent fight," she informed you, her tone brisk as she managed her team with efficiency. "Tributes are still pouring in for your grandma, Rita. The public’s been incredibly supportive, and the office is practically overflowing with gifts. It’s heartwarming, really."

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. "That’s good to hear," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude. "She meant a lot to them."

Rita was a public figure ever since the 80's in Japan for her protests of human rights violations and openly questioning the government. She helped organize for better workers rights, women's and child's rights, and started several charities for those left without housing after villain attacks. A true badass until the end. 

"And to you," Elle added gently, her tone softening for a moment before shifting back to business. "The lawyers your cousin hired are circling like vultures, but don’t worry. I’ve been keeping them at bay. No one’s getting to you without going through me first."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Thanks, Elle. I appreciate that."

"Of course," she said, her voice firm. "But we should start thinking about a contingency plan. In case Katsuki figures it out about Asuna. We need to be prepared."

You hesitated, your steps slowing as you considered her words. "I know," you admitted, your voice thoughtful. "But right now, I’m not sure if that’s the right move. I need to figure out the best way to handle this, for Asuna’s sake."

Elle didn’t push, understanding the delicate nature of the situation. "Alright. Just know I’m here when you’re ready to talk it through."

"Thanks, Elle," you said again, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts. She hung up and you resumed the quiet in your earpiece. You didn’t mention the half-started conversation with Asuna that morning, choosing to keep that moment private. Not everything had to be shared, especially when it came to your daughter’s journey to uncover the truth.

As you navigated the crowded streets, your thoughts drifted back to Katsuki. 

You’d made it a rule not to dwell on him—years of discipline in compartmentalizing your thoughts had taught you that. But lately, the rules had bent, cracks forming in the walls you’d carefully constructed. Mina's mention of him being in a slump gnawed at the edges of your curiosity. ‘

What kind of slump could someone like Katsuki Bakugou be in?’

He wasn’t one to give in to negativity, not the Katsuki you knew.

You’d heard the accolades, the honors he’d collected over the years, often standing on the same stages during awards shows. The memories of past comedians cracking jokes about the infamous Class 1-A breakup were vivid.  “Can’t sit them together anymore!” They'd quip, until Katsuki’s public statement silenced the chatter.

The internet had taken over where comedians left off, but even then, mentions of your shared past dwindled.

Reports showed you and Katsuki still ranked high in popularity polls, fan favorites even after all this time. It was the kind of fame that lingered, much like the ghosts of old memories you tried not to resurrect. The winter wind tugged at your scarf as you exhaled deeply, the steam from your breath swirling like thoughts you couldn’t quite shake.

The brisk wind carried the familiar scents of winter—crisp air tinged with hints of pine and the subtle sweetness of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor. Your coat billowed slightly as you walked through the crowded city center, the festive decorations glittering in the golden afternoon light. The streets were alive with holiday cheer, families bustling about with shopping bags, couples huddled close, and children darting between legs, their laughter mingling with the carols playing over the city’s loudspeakers.

A small girl tripped in front of you, her mittened hands clutching a fallen toy. You knelt swiftly, offering a hand and a reassuring smile as you helped her to her feet. "Here you go," you said, brushing the snow off her coat and handing her the toy. She beamed up at you, her mother offering a grateful nod before taking her hand and leading her away.

Continuing down the sidewalk, you noticed a group gathered around a lamppost where a kitten was precariously perched. Its tiny paws clung to the icy metal, mewling pitifully. Without hesitation, you stepped in, gently coaxing the kitten down into your arms. The crowd murmured their thanks as you handed the rescued animal to a young woman who promised to take it home.

The chill air bit at your skin as you paused to take a deep breath, exhaling a plume of steam that curled upward. Your gaze drifted toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square, its lights twinkling against the dusky grey sky. 

Someone approached with a bouquet of flowers—roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums arranged in a delicate tribute. "For Rita," the elderly man said softly, placing the bouquet in your hands. You thanked him, the weight of his gesture warming your heart even as the cold pressed in.

As you moved on, children tugged at their parents’ coats, pointing at you with wide eyes. One boy approached shyly, a small notebook clutched in his hands. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You crouched to his level, pulling out a pen. "Of course," you said warmly, signing his book before handing him a sticker from your pocket. His face lit up as he ran back to his parents, showing off his prize.

The city center’s window displays caught your eye, each one a carefully crafted scene of holiday whimsy. One showcased a family gathered around a fireplace, another a bustling toy workshop. The scenes stirred something within you, a reminder of the family moments you’d missed, the connections that had frayed.

Across the street, the park beckoned. Its bare trees stretched skeletal branches against the pale sky, but the skating rink was alive with laughter and the rhythmic scrape of blades on ice. You made your way over, crossing at the light as cars idled, their headlights casting long beams over the wet pavement.

The cold bite of the winter air seemed almost fitting as you watched the mothers in the park, their laughter mingling with the joyful cries of their children. Each child bundled in colorful scarves and coats, chasing one another through the frost-dusted grass, their mothers nearby with warm smiles and gentle calls to be careful. You sighed, your breath forming a cloud that dissolved into the wind, your eyes drifting to a mother helping her child up after a tumble. The way she knelt, brushing dirt from the little one’s knees, made your chest ache with a longing you rarely let surface.

'Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't— '

Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a bustling park, letting your mind drift to the guilt that had nestled in your heart for years—the guilt of not telling him about Asuna. High school memories flooded back, unbidden but vivid. 

Katsuki, stubborn and fierce, had always been adamant about wanting to do things right. He’d talked about marrying you like it was an unshakable goal, something as concrete as his dreams of becoming a top hero. The thought of his determined expression, the way his eyes would light up with passion when he spoke about the future, brought a bittersweet smile to your lips. 

But then the memories darkened, bringing you back to that Christmas Eve at the hero’s gala, sixteen years ago. 

The argument had been like a storm, violent and consuming, words hurled back and forth with a force that left both of you wounded. You could barely recall the specifics now—the exact words that once cut so deep had faded over time. But the pain? 

That remained, an ever-present echo in your heart.

After that fight, you had left. Packed your things in a whirlwind of emotion and left a letter behind, one you were sure he had read but never responded to. When the days turned into weeks and still no word came from him, you forced yourself to close that chapter. You had moved on, or at least tried to, until you discovered you were pregnant. 

How had you managed to keep Asuna a secret from the public all these years? 

It was a question you often asked yourself, marveling at the delicate balance you maintained. Asuna was your world, and protecting her had become your life’s mission. Katsuki had a right to know, that much you admitted to yourself in the quiet of the night when Asuna was asleep and the house was silent. But Katsuki was unpredictable, his temper legendary. The idea of splitting custody, of disrupting Asuna’s life with court battles and media frenzy, was a nightmare you couldn’t bear to entertain.

‘Fuck that shit.’

You shifted your weight, your hands buried deep in your coat pockets as you watched a child on a tricycle wobble past, his parents walking behind him, their hands entwined. 

‘What would it be like,’ you wondered, to have that kind of family life? To share the joys and burdens with someone you trusted, someone who loved both you and Asuna unconditionally? The thought brought a sting to your eyes, but you blinked it away, straightening your spine against the cold.

Mitsuki and Masaru often crept into your thoughts as well. Would they want to know their grandchild? The image of Mitsuki’s face, filled with the warmth and fierceness you remembered, surfaced in your mind. She had always been supportive, even when things between you and Katsuki had been tumultuous. 

But you knew, deep down, that if you had told them about Asuna, they would have told Katsuki. And that was a storm you weren’t ready to weather. The idea of Katsuki turning your life upside down, adding more chaos to an already delicate balance, kept you silent.

You recalled the night you moved out, the cold winter air biting at your skin as you loaded boxes into Shinsou’s car. Your awards, your clothes, your life—all packed away in the dead of night. 

The letter you left behind felt like a betrayal to yourself by morning, a shred of vulnerability you vowed never to show again. 

Standing in front of the mirror, you made a promise: 

Never again would you allow yourself to be hurt like that. 

Never again would you give someone that power.

“No,” you decide firmly, shaking the thoughts away as if dispelling a lingering cloud.

That marriage wouldn't have been better. The what-ifs painted a picture that seemed idyllic on the surface, but reality would have likely been far different. A marriage built on unresolved hurt and bitterness would have crumbled, leaving Asuna to grow up in a home filled with tension and resentment. She deserved better than that—a peaceful, nurturing environment free from the toxicity that could have taken root. 

The last thing you wanted was for her to become another child navigating the fallout of a broken relationship.

You sigh, rubbing your hands together to ward off the chill as you make your way to a nearby bench by the flower field. It’s one of your favorite spots, a place you often found solace during breaks or late nights. The vibrant blooms, even in the cold, seemed to radiate a quiet peace, a reminder of the beauty and resilience in the world. Sitting here always helped you reconnect with your purpose, to remember why you put in the hard work and long hours—to give people, including Asuna, a safer world to live in.

As you settle onto the bench, the cold wood pressing against your legs through your coat, you pull out your phone and absently thumb through it. Your finger hovers over Asuna's contact for a moment. The temptation to call her is strong, but you hesitate. She deserved some time to herself, to enjoy her day with Rumi without the weight of your worries pressing down on her. Besides, she’d pick up on your mood immediately. She always did. The last thing you wanted was to dampen her day with your thoughts and anxieties.

Instead, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath, the crisp air filling your lungs and bringing a brief clarity to your mind. Maybe it was time to consider talking to someone—a therapist, perhaps. The idea had crossed your mind before, but you’d always pushed it aside, too caught up in the whirlwind of daily life and responsibilities. But sitting here now, the quiet enveloping you, it seemed like the most reasonable step forward.

You glance at the flowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze, and allow yourself a moment of peace. 

One last time. 

You’ll meet Katsuki one last time.

For yourself, and for Rita.

—

Kirishima clapped Katsuki on the shoulder with a wide grin. 

"Good luck, man. You’ve got this!" His voice was reassuring, the warmth in his tone cutting through the chill of the day. "Just keep it simple, yeah? Hand her the stuff, say what you need to say, and then let her take it from there. You don’t need to overthink it."

Katsuki grunted in response, nodding curtly. 

His work bag hung heavily from his shoulder, weighed down by the binder containing Rita’s will and the old photographs he’d dug out early that morning, at Kirishima’s insistence. His mind was a jumbled mess, yesterday feeling both distant and painfully close. The weight of the past was heavy on his chest, constricting his breathing as he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, burying his face in its warmth. The cold ugly weather seeped through his jacket, a stark reminder of the winter’s chill that had taken over the city.

Even Kirishima had bundled up, his jacket emblazoned with his hero logo, reflecting the heat from his body as he headed off to patrol the city center. Katsuki watched him wave before disappearing into the crowd, leaving him alone at the park's entrance. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. He could do this. He just had to give you the pictures and the will. That was it. And then, perhaps, he could walk away and never have to deal with this again.

At least, that’s what Katsuki told himself. 

But his stomach churned, and his heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest, betraying his supposed resolve.

He stepped into the park, the crunch of his boots against the gravel path muffled by the buzz of activity around him. The air was filled with the hum of holiday preparations; Workers were stringing up Christmas lights and adding festive decorations to the trees and lampposts. Children darted between the pathways, their laughter ringing out as they played, their breath visible in the chilly air. Couples posing for pictures, bundled in scarves and coats, while families gathered by the skating rink, watching their little ones wobble on the ice.

‘Fucking annoying.’

Katsuki’s gaze swept over the scene, searching for you, though part of him was hesitant to find you. His mind kept drifting back to the question that had gnawed at him since yesterday. Who was the father of your daughter? Asuna, you’d said her name was. She bore your grandmother’s maiden name, but something about her eyes, the way they stared at him with a mix of familiarity and accusation, unsettled him.

He found himself looking at the fathers in the park, watching as they interacted with their children. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have a family of his own. 

What if he had married you, settled into a life of domesticity? Would he have had a brat of his own—a kid with a stubborn streak, maybe a little explosion quirk, someone to raise and guide through life’s chaos

The thought made his chest tighten, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling up. 

His gaze drifted to the skating rink, where children and parents alike were gliding on the ice. Some were beginners, clutching onto the railing for dear life, while others moved gracefully, weaving in and out of the crowd. The rink was a hub of joy and laughter, a snapshot of the kind of life he often kept at arm’s length.

Katsuki shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the edge of the photographs inside his bag. His thoughts spiraled back to Asuna. What were you like as a mother? She seemed well-adjusted, confident, and full of life—qualities that spoke volumes about the environment you’d created for her. 

But those eyes, her eyes, haunted him. 

Every time he blinked, he saw her glare, a silent accusation for something he hadn’t even begun to understand.

He stood there, watching the scene unfold before him, the cold biting at his cheeks, as he wrestled with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Katsuki’s eyes scanned the park restlessly, taking in every detail but finding no sign of you. His gaze lingered on the parents, the kids playing, the groups of friends laughing together. But his mind kept circling back to the encounter from last night and the unexpected twist of seeing Shinsou. 

Why had that bothered him so much?  

He knew you two were friends—always had been. 

But seeing Shinsou there, at your side, made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.

Katsuki exhaled sharply, trying to shake the feeling. 

What did it even matter? 

You were never his to begin with. 

Hell, you’d made that clear enough when you left. Yet, here he was, sitting on the edge of frustration, like some possessive idiot. He made his way to a park bench near the skating rink, dropping onto it with a heavy sigh. The crisp air nipped at his face, his breath forming little puffs in front of him. Katsuki ran a hand through his spiky hair, the familiar sensation grounding him momentarily before he crossed his arms and huffed, staring at the rink.

The skating rink was bustling with life, a contrast to the grey sky hanging overhead. Twinkling Christmas lights bordered the walls, casting a warm glow that softened the cold atmosphere. Holiday music played through speakers, the cheerful tunes creating an ambiance of joy and festivity. Families circled the ice, their laughter ringing out as some stumbled, others spun gracefully, and a few, like Rumi, showcased more advanced moves with ease.

Eri giggled as she skated alongside Asuna and Rumi. The girl’s cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes wide with wonder as she tried to mimic the spins and twirls that Rumi effortlessly executed. Rumi grinned, her energy infectious as she encouraged the girls to push themselves further, teaching them how to spin on the ice and attempt simple tricks.

Asuna, however, was distracted. 

She knew she needed to find you. Her phone’s GPS had shown you were already in the park, but so far, she hadn’t had a chance to sneak away. Eri was having too much fun, and Asuna didn’t want to spoil the moment. Still, the anxiety was starting to bubble up. She needed to make her exit soon.

Noticing the tension in Asuna’s face, Eri tugged on her sleeve, a thoughtful look crossing her features. “I’m thirsty,” Eri said, her voice soft but clear. “But…I don’t want to stop skating yet. Could you get me an orange soda?”

(C0ugh, go on your special mission, c0ougH)

Asuna blinked, surprised for a moment, before the realization settled in. “Sure, Eri. I’ll get it for you.” She smiled, giving the older girl a quick nod. Rumi skated over, her breath visible in the chilly air as she reached into her pocket. 

“Here, take some cash,” she offered, holding out a few bills.

Asuna waved her off with a laugh. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rumi raised an eyebrow, her expression playful but firm. “Just drop your location, okay? And don’t wander off.”

“I won’t,” Asuna assured her, giving a thumbs-up before awkwardly clomping off the ice and onto the pavement. Her skates clicked against the ground, and she quickly swapped them for her shoes, slipping her phone into her hand as she made her way toward the main park paths.

The chill in the air was biting, but the park’s festive decorations and bustling energy offered a strange warmth. Asuna’s heart pounded as she navigated through the crowd, her thoughts focused on finding you. The sound of holiday music and the distant laughter of skaters faded into the background as she made her way toward the flower fields, where she knew you liked to sit.

Asuna adjusted the strap of her skates slung over her shoulder, the blades clinking softly as they tapped against each other with each step. But as she rounded the corner near the park’s central path, her feet slowed, and her heart gave a startled lurch. Sitting on a weathered bench, unmistakably tense and deep in thought, 

Was Katsuki Bakugou.

Their eyes met across the open space, and time seemed to pause. 

The usual hustle of the park—the chatter of children, the rhythmic sound of skates slicing through the ice, and the soft strains of holiday music—faded into the background. For a few beats, it was just the two of them, locked in an unspoken dialogue. Their faces, though carefully blank, couldn’t entirely hide the flicker of surprise and something….. unresolved, that passed between them.

‘Fucking hell, I thought she was you.’

Katsuki’s sharp red eyes scrutinized Asuna, taking in the familiar features that mirrored yours. The resemblance was undeniable, and it stirred a disquieting mix of emotions within him. He hadn’t expected to see her here, not without you. A question gnawed at the edge of his mind: If Asuna was here, where were you? His heart clenched at the thought that he might have already missed you, that maybe you had come and gone before he even realized.

Asuna, equally surprised, felt her pulse quicken. 

She hadn’t anticipated running into Katsuki so suddenly, especially not in such a sad, public display. Seeing him there, alone, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. She knew about the history between you and Katsuki, the lingering tension and the unspoken words that still hung in the air. 

Her mind raced—were you with him earlier? Had she miscalculated the time? No, it was just past noon; you were likely still finishing your patrol. But the sight of Katsuki waiting, looking almost pathetic in his solitude, unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Neither moved nor spoke, both caught in the throes of internal debates. Katsuki was the first to react, giving Asuna a slow, deliberate nod, acknowledging her presence with a flicker of recognition. Asuna mirrored his gesture, equally tentative, her eyes never leaving his. The moment stretched out, filled with the weight of things unsaid, before Katsuki leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

The wind picked up, rustling the skeletal branches above and tugging at their clothes. It was a cold, grey day, the kind that hinted at snow but held back, leaving the air crisp and biting. Asuna felt the chill but didn’t move, her gaze locked on Katsuki’s, both of them trying to decipher what the other was thinking.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence with a sharp inhale. 

His mind was a tangle of frustration and confusion. He hated this—this inability to express what was swirling inside him, the words that felt stuck behind a barrier he couldn’t breach. 

He didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to care so much about what you were doing, who you were with. 

Yet here he was, sitting on a bench in the park, waiting for a meeting he wasn’t even sure would happen.

“You gonna say somethin’, or just keep starin’?” 

Katsuki’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath the usual gruffness. His gaze didn’t waver, watching Asuna with an intensity that made her shift her weight from one foot to the other.

Asuna blinked, the bluntness of his question catching her off guard. She had expected silence, or maybe a curt dismissal, but not this direct challenge. “I…” She faltered, her voice softer than she intended. SHe had to play this right. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Katsuki huffed, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes on her. 

“Yeah, well, same here. Thought you’d be with your mother.”

“I was supposed to meet her,” Asuna admitted, glancing down at the skates dangling from her shoulder before returning her gaze to him. “I was just… getting something for Eri.”

The mention of your name seemed to soften something in Katsuki’s expression, though his features remained guarded. His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, as if considering a response but deciding against it. 

“She with you?”

Asuna nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Rumi too. We’ve been at the rink.”

Katsuki processed this in silence, his mind darting back to memories of you—how you always seemed to be surrounded by people who cared for you, who wanted to protect you. It was something he admired and envied in equal measure. The thought of you out there, with them, made his chest tighten with a mix of relief and longing.

“You should get back to them,” Katsuki said after a moment, his voice quieter, lacking its usual edge. “Don’t wanna leave ‘em waitin’.”

Asuna hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot. There was something in his tone that gave her pause, a subtle hint of resignation that made her heart ache. She didn’t know him well, but she could sense the turmoil beneath his tough exterior. 

“Are you…waiting for my mom?” she asked carefully, her eyes searching his face for any clue to his thoughts.

Katsuki’s jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. 

“Yeah.”

A silence settled over them again, but this time it felt different—less tense, more contemplative. Asuna watched him for a moment longer before offering a small, tentative smile. 

“She’ll be here. She wouldn’t leave you waiting.”

Katsuki scoffed softly, but there was a faint trace of amusement in his eyes. 

“I know she wouldn’t.”

With that, Asuna gave a final nod, turning back toward the skating rink. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if she was reluctant to leave but knew she had to. Katsuki watched her go, the clinking of her skates fading into the distance, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. As the wind swirled around him, Katsuki leaned back against the bench, exhaling a long breath. The encounter had left him feeling more unsettled than before, yet there was a strange comfort in it too. 

The anticipation of seeing you again, the hope that maybe things could be different—it was enough to keep him there, waiting.

Asuna clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she took a deep, steadying breath. Her mind screamed at her to keep walking, to head back to the rink where Eri and Rumi were waiting. 

But her feet refused to move.

She had come this far—turned back once, and now standing there in the cold with the biting wind swirling around her, she realized this was her chance. She couldn’t back out now. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she turned on her heel and marched back towards Katsuki. Her steps were quick, deliberate, every ounce of her determination pushing her forward despite the fluttering nerves in her stomach. 

Katsuki, still seated on the bench, noticed her approach and sat up straighter, his sharp red eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity and caution.

Asuna came to a halt just a few feet away, inhaling deeply before speaking, her voice clear but slightly tremulous. 

“Can I sit with you?”

Katsuki’s eyebrows shot up, his face a mix of surprise and skepticism. “Why?” His tone was gruff, almost defensive, as if unsure of her intentions.

Asuna swallowed hard, her gaze unwavering. 

“I want to.”

For a moment, he said nothing, just staring at her with those intense eyes that seemed to strip away any pretense. Finally, he shifted to the side, creating enough space for her to sit, though he maintained a respectful distance. Asuna eased onto the bench, facing him, her posture tense but resolute.

Katsuki watched her warily, his arms crossed over his chest as if shielding himself from whatever was about to come. He didn’t do well with unplanned encounters, especially ones that carried the weight of potential confrontation. 

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly, cutting through the thick silence between them.

Asuna bit her lip, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench. She knew she had to tread carefully, but she couldn’t ignore the questions burning inside her. 

“How do you know my mom?” she asked, her voice steady, though her heart raced.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed slightly, the question catching him off guard. He felt a spark of annoyance at the directness, but something about the determined glint in Asuna’s eyes stopped him from snapping. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying her. 

“What’s it to you?”

Asuna leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. “I just…want to know what you’re doing here. Why you’re waiting for her.”

The tension between them thickened, neither willing to back down. Katsuki let out a low huff, his jaw clenching. “She’s a friend,” he said finally, the word feeling both accurate and inadequate.

“I came to see her.”

Asuna didn’t flinch, her expression unreadable. “Why?”

Katsuki’s patience thinned at the grilling, the familiarity of being questioned like this stirring memories of his mother’s sharp tongue and piercing gaze. His voice sharpened, matching her intensity. “Why does it matter?”

“Because she matters,” Asuna shot back, her eyes flashing. “And I want to know what you want from her.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at the insinuation, the heat rising in his chest. 

“You think I’m here to mess with her or somethin’?”

Asuna’s silence was answer enough, her lips pressed into a thin line. The sharpness in her gaze reminded Katsuki of the same fire he’d seen in you, in himself, and in his mother. It was a look that demanded answers, no matter how uncomfortable.

“You don’t get it,” Katsuki said, his voice low but intense. 

“I’m not here to mess with her. I’m here because…” He paused, the words catching in his throat. He hated talking about his feelings, hated how vulnerable it made him feel. But he pressed on, the need to clarify outweighing his discomfort. 

“I’m here because she’s important to me.”

Asuna’s expression softened slightly, though she didn’t let her guard down entirely. “Important how?”

Katsuki’s hands flexed, the tension in his body evident. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the frustration clear in his voice. 

“I just…care about her. More than I should, probably.”

Asuna absorbed his words, the weight of them settling into her chest. She didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but the honesty in his admission caught her off guard. There was a vulnerability in his tone that she hadn’t anticipated, and it made her rethink her initial assumptions.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” Katsuki added, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. 

“That’s why I’m here.”

Asuna nodded slowly, the tension between them easing just a fraction. “I get that,” she said softly. “I guess I’m just…protective of her.”

Katsuki smirked faintly, the edge of his temper dulling. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the wind swirling around them, carrying the distant sounds of laughter and music from the skating rink. The tension that had been so palpable before began to dissipate, replaced by a tentative understanding. Asuna exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“I don’t want her to get hurt,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, the fierce scrutiny in his gaze mellowing. 

“Neither do I,” he replied, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that hung in the cold air between them.

Asuna leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming on the bench as she mulled over his words. 

Something about his bluntness pulled her back into her defensive shell. His manner of speaking was so different—gruff, devoid of the social politeness she was used to. There was an accent too, something sharp and clipped, that hinted at a different upbringing. 

It reminded her of the way you used to gently correct her speech before school, smoothing out her rough edges. She still didn’t fully understand why you had been so insistent about it, but she had complied nonetheless.

Katsuki, on the other hand, noticed everything about Asuna—the way her eyes flicked around, taking in their surroundings, and the way her fingers fidgeted slightly. His gaze dropped to her hands, and he caught sight of a scab on her palm, raw and slightly pink.

“What happened to yer hand?” he asked, nodding toward the mark.

Asuna glanced down at it, flexing her fingers absentmindedly. “Oh, that. Aunty Mina dropped something this morning, and I was helping her clean it up. It’s fine now, just itchy.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed instantly. 

‘MINA?’

He hadn’t known she was over at your house last night.

He didn't know that the two of you still hung out like that.

At All.

The information lodged itself in his brain, a small flag for later. He filed it away, unsure if it was significant, but unwilling to overlook anything related to you.

“How’d you get that?” Asuna asked, motioning toward the faint scar on his cheek.

“Fight,” Katsuki answered tersely, his fingers brushing over the mark as if he could still feel the sting.

“You always getting into fights?” she pressed, her tone a mix of curiosity and mild judgment.

Katsuki shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Depends.”

Asuna tilted her head, considering his response. 

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“School let out early for the holiday,” she explained. Katsuki scoffed, a sharp exhale through his nose. 

“Figures.”

Asuna’s eyes narrowed, a spark of irritation flaring. “You’ve got a shitty attitude, you know that? You’re an asshole.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Really? You can tell all that from one conversation?” Asuna nodded confidently. 

“Yeah. You don’t hide it.”

“Don’t make it a point to,” Katsuki replied, his gaze steady, almost challenging. “But, if we’re being honest, you’ve got asshole tendencies too.” He sneered at her, expecting the girl to run off back to wherever she came from, not for her eyes to be lighting up!

A slow smile spread across Asuna’s face, her mask lowering just a fraction. 

“I know.”

Katsuki chuckled, a low, genuine sound that surprised even him.

There was something refreshing about her straightforwardness. It reminded him of himself, the way she didn’t shy away from confrontation or honesty. It was rare to meet someone who didn’t dance around the truth or put on a facade. Asuna leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued.

“So, why do you care about my mom?”

Katsuki’s expression shifted, the humor fading into something more serious.

“Because I do.”

Asuna nodded, her expression softening. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine care that went beyond words. It was strange, but she found herself trusting him, at least a little. The tension between them eased, replaced by a tentative understanding.

“So, you gonna keep staring or ya got more questions?” Katsuki teased, his tone light but with an edge of challenge.

Asuna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied Katsuki with a thoughtful tilt of her head. The wind played with her hair, brushing it across her face, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you feed Big Red to keep him going?” she asked suddenly.

Katsuki blinked, momentarily thrown. “Big Red?”

“Yeah, Kirishima,” Asuna clarified, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Realization dawned on Katsuki, and he smirked, leaning back against the bench. “Ah, him. He eats everything. Meat mostly. Guy’s a walking protein factory. Eggs, chicken, steak... whatever has enough protein to fuel that hard ass head of his.”

Asuna laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “Sounds about right.”

Katsuki’s gaze flicked to her, a subtle curiosity lingering in his eyes. 

“Why are you so small?”

The question caught Asuna off guard, and she arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m taller than Mom,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “And I’m not done growing yet. One day, I’ll probably be taller than you.”

Katsuki scoffed, a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Not much of an accomplishment. Being the tallest dwarf isn’t exactly a flex. And your mom? She’s short.”

Asuna’s lips quirked into a challenging grin. “At least I’m not a insecure loudmouth with a height complex.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze. “When are you and your mom heading to the North Pole?”

Asuna frowned, clearly puzzled. 

“Why would we go to the North Pole?”

“Santa needs all his elves back,” Katsuki said with a smirk, watching for her reaction.

It took a moment for the jab to sink in, but when it did, Asuna’s smile turned sharp and dangerous. 

“Keep it up, and I’ll kick your balls in.”

Katsuki raised his hands in mock surrender. “Chill out, short stack. I’m not afraid to fight a kid.” Asuna’s eyes sparkled with defiance.

“Not surprised. It’s a miracle your crybaby ass hasn’t been sued yet.”

The playful atmosphere shifted as Katsuki straightened, his expression darkening. 

“Crybaby? Who the hell are you calling a crybaby?!”

“You,” Asuna shot back without hesitation. “Last night, on the sidewalk, crying like someone died.”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “No one died. But someone might very soon.”

A certain purple haired person came to mind. 

Asuna leaned back, undeterred by his simmering anger. “Why didn’t Mom ever bring me around your gang before?” Katsuki’s expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Dunno. Probably because of hero work.”

Asuna shrugged. “Makes sense. She’s always busy.” Katsuki hummed in agreement. “Same here.” Asuna tilted her head, studying him with a scrutinizing gaze.

“You’re in the business too?”

Katsuki nodded, his eyes steady on hers.

“You don’t look like a hero,” Asuna remarked, her tone skeptical. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation flashing in them.

“I am a hero.”

Asuna squinted, leaning in as if to inspect him more closely. 

“Nahhh.”

With an irritated huff, Katsuki reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet (lots of bills!) with his hero badge, holding it up for her to see.

“Believe it now?”

Asuna’s eyes widened, the sight of the badge silencing her for a moment. She looked between the badge and Katsuki, connecting the dots. “Wait... you’re Pro Hero Dynamight?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki confirmed, his tone tinged with pride.

Asuna blinked, her mind racing. “And Kirishima is... Red Riot?”

Katsuki’s smirk returned, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “ ‘S right.”

Katsuki leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he exuded an air of cocky indifference. His eyes glinted with self-assured confidence, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He might’ve been trying to play it cool, but Asuna wasn’t buying it for a second.

“You’re still lame,” she said with a shrug, her voice laced with nonchalance.

Katsuki’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Asuna confirmed, leaning forward slightly as if to drive the point home. “All tough and cool one minute, and then, bam, still lame.” Katsuki opened his mouth to retort, but Asuna pressed on, her curiosity getting the better of her. 

“Do you have a family?”

His brows furrowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Why?”

“Well,” Asuna continued, resting her chin on her hand. “Why don’t you have one? Are you dating?”

Katsuki’s eyes widened, and he sputtered. “What the hell kind of questions are those?” Park onlookers be dammed with these two.

“Just curious,” Asuna said innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” Katsuki snapped, his face flushing slightly.

“Why not?” Asuna asked, tilting her head, genuinely intrigued.

Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, his irritation mounting. 

“None of your business.”

“Is it because of your attitude?” Asuna pressed, leaning closer.

“Or do they all run when they realize the truth about you?”

That... hit harder than Katsuki expected. 

His jaw clenched as he sat back, her questions needling into thoughts he hadn’t fully faced. His usual bravado faltered, the weight of her words striking a nerve, particularly with everything happening between him and you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she had a point—had his personality, his inability to open up, been a barrier?

‘Yes.’

Noticing his silence, Asuna smirked.

“Gone soft on me now, have you?”

Katsuki’s eyes snapped to hers, his frown deepening. “Why are you so damn nosey? Just like your mom.”

Asuna blinked, taken aback. “Mom’s not nosey.”

“Yeah, right,” Katsuki scoffed. Asuna rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Is Shinsou your mom’s boyfriend?”

“Uncle Hitoshi? Ew,” Asuna grimaced, the sheer disbelief evident in her expression. “No way.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Why not? What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, really,” Asuna admitted with a shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t call him handsome to his face or anything. It’s just... he’s always sleep-deprived and has that low-key creepy smile.”

'And because it's too complicated to think of him like a dad.'

Katsuki smirked, leaning back. “So, bag check is still single?”

“Why do you care so much if he’s dating my mom?” Asuna shot back, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”

Katsuki’s expression shifted, and he averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed. “None of yer damn business,” he huffed. Asuna grinned, sensing an opportunity to press further.

“Where is my mom, anyway?”

“Hell if I know,” Katsuki grumbled. “Why don’t you just call her or somethin'?”

“Why don’t you?” Asuna shot back, crossing her arms.

Katsuki pulled out his phone with a grunt, clearly ready to end this conversation. But as he was about to dial, Asuna dropped the next question like a bombshell.

“Do you have any kids?”

Katsuki froze, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the ground with a tasty CRACK! He stared at her, eyes wide in shock. 

“What the fuck, kid?”

Asuna shrugged, a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m just curious.”

He leaned down to retrieve his phone, his hands slightly trembling. His mind raced, thoughts spiraling as he tried to comprehend the unexpected question. He wasn’t sure if it was her nonchalant delivery or the sheer audacity of the question, but it left him deeply rattled.

“No,” he finally managed to say, his voice quieter than usual. 

“I don’t have any kids.”

Asuna watched him carefully, noting the shift in his demeanor. For the first time since their conversation started, she saw a crack in his tough exterior, a vulnerability he rarely showed. She didn’t push further, sensing that she had hit a sensitive spot.

Katsuki picked up his phone from the floor, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the lingering tension from Asuna’s question. He glanced at her, watching as she casually leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. For a moment, he debated whether to continue their conversation or just sit in silence. 

But curiosity got the better of him.

“You got any siblings?” he asked, his tone attempting to be nonchalant.

Asuna shook her head. “Nope. Just me.”

Katsuki hummed, leaning back on the bench, one boot tapping restlessly against the concrete. He wanted to ask about her dad, but your voice echoed in his mind—a warning, a sharp reminder of what you had told him once before. 

‘He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve to know.’ 

Katsuki clenched his jaw, pushing the thought aside, but the weight of it lingered.

He looked at Asuna again, his gaze drawn to her eyes, those bright red starbeds so much like his own. The resemblance was uncanny, and it stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite handle.

He stood abruptly, his restlessness getting the better of him.

“Come on,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“My ass is falling asleep. Might as well walk around 'til we find your mama.”

Asuna nodded, slipping off her seat. She pulled out her phone and dropped a quick location pin to Eri, her fingers flying across the screen as she sent a copy to Shinsou as well. Once done, she glanced at Katsuki with a smirk. “Ready when you are.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Just letting Eri know where I am,” she lied smoothly. “You know, in case you decide to kidnap me or something.”

Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as they headed out of the skating area.

“I'd return you.”

They walked in silence for a bit, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the pathway.

The air around them was filled with the sounds of laughter and carolers, the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa mingling in the crisp winter air. Christmas lights twinkled on every tree, casting a warm glow over the bustling park. Families wandered between decorated stalls, and children giggled as they chased each other around the towering Christmas tree in the center. 

Asuna glanced at Katsuki out of the corner of her eye, watching the way he carried himself—shoulders squared, eyes scanning the surroundings with a sharpness that belied his seemingly laid-back demeanor.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence, “What made you become a hero?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Always wanted to be the best hero.”

“Typical,” Asuna teased, her lips quirking into a grin. “Always about being the best.”

She could relate.

“Damn right,” Katsuki shot back, his tone laced with pride. “What about you? Got any plans for the future?”

Asuna thought for a moment, her brows furrowing. “Pro hero with a degree in engineering. I like figuring out how things work.”

“Good choice,” Katsuki said, nodding approvingly. “Smart kid.”

They continued walking, the conversation ebbing and flowing, each question peeling back a layer of the other. Katsuki found himself intrigued by Asuna’s quick wit and sharp tongue, traits that reminded him of himself in a way. He admired her confidence, even as it annoyed him at times. They turned a corner, the conversation turning light again, until eventually, Katsuki couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer.

“What about your dad?” he asked carefully, his voice quieter than before.

Asuna’s steps faltered slightly, and she cast a glance up at him, her eyes dimming for a moment. 

“... I don’t know,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Katsuki’s heart clenched at her response, the weight of her words settling heavily in the air between them. He wanted to ask more, to dig deeper, but the sadness in her voice held him back. Instead, he walked in silence beside her, his mind churning with thoughts and emotions he wasn’t used to dealing with.

Asuna, sensing his internal struggle, offered a small, reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got Mom, and that’s enough.”

'Liar.'

Katsuki nodded, though the unease in his chest remained. The two continued their walk, the unspoken words between them solidifying in the quiet. They walked in step, the quiet between them stretching comfortably as they toured around the park.

The soft glow of Christmas lights illuminated their path, casting a festive yet serene atmosphere. Food stalls lined the walkways, the smell of roasted nuts and sweet treats wafting through the cool afternoon air. Katsuki’s gaze flicked over to a stall selling hot peanuts.

“Ya want some?” he asked, tilting his head towards the stand.

Asuna wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Nah, almonds are better.”

Katsuki gave a small grunt of acknowledgement. They continued strolling, their eyes absorbing the kaleidoscope of colors from the light displays. The air was filled with the murmur of families and couples, laughter and chatter blending with the soft hum of holiday music.

This was… really nice, actually. 

It was different from the walks she took with Aizawa or Shinsou. One whose arm she would hold onto as she dragged him around and the other she would throw pinecones at and race around the park. She wondered if you ever took walks like this with Katsuki before. She didn’t really take you for the flirty type. 

Her mind wandered back to Eri and Rumi. She could say that she needed to use the can at her favorite department store and that she got distracted by the lights on the way back. What she really wanted to do was just enjoy this moment, but she didn’t know why. 

It wasn’t like Katsuki was prominent in her life or anything. Like, she literally just met the guy. 

So… why did he make her feel happy?

As they passed a particularly vibrant display, Asuna accidentally bumped into a large man who had stepped into her path. The man turned around, his face twisted in irritation, clearly ready to give her trouble. Asuna squared her shoulders, her red eyes narrowing, prepared to give him hell right back. Before she could speak, Katsuki stepped between them, his stance solid and intimidating. 

“Fuck off.”

The man’s eyes darted between Katsuki and Asuna, his glare sharp and filled with disdain. His gaze settled on Katsuki with a sneer. "Control your damn kid, " he spat, his words dripping with contempt before he turned away, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the festive crowd.

Neither of them corrected him.

Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body palpable. His jaw tightened as he drew in a slow breath, barely restraining himself from responding. But before he could react, Asuna grabbed his arm, her fingers curling firmly around his bicep.

"Come on," she urged softly, tugging him away from the confrontation. Her grip was steady, guiding him down the festive path lined with wreaths and garlands. They walked in silence now, the crunch of gravel underfoot punctuating the stillness between them.

Asuna stared straight ahead, her expression carefully composed, the flickering lights reflecting in her eyes. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.

Katsuki glanced at her, his usual fiery demeanor subdued. 

"No problem," he replied, his voice low, almost uncharacteristically gentle. The protective instinct that surged within him was unexpected, a foreign sensation that settled heavily in his chest.

They continued down the path, weaving through the throng of holiday revelers until Asuna’s eyes caught sight of a vending machine near the playground. 

"Wait a sec," she said, breaking away from Katsuki and making her way to the machine. The faint hum of the vending machine mingled with the festive sounds around her as she selected a can of orange soda.

Returning to Katsuki, she found him waiting, the bustling park now a blur of twinkling lights and cheerful voices. He held out a small package toward her, his expression unreadable beneath the glow of the holiday lights.

“What’s this?” Asuna asked, her fingers brushing against the warmth of the package as she took it from him, curiosity piquing in her gaze.

“Open it,” Katsuki replied nonchalantly, popping a few almonds into his mouth from his own bag, the faint crunch breaking the quiet of the evening.

Asuna carefully peeled back the paper, revealing a small bundle of hot almonds dusted with sugar. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced up at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and gratitude. 

“You got these?”

Katsuki shrugged, chewing thoughtfully on his own handful. “Yeah. Don’t get how you like ‘em, though.”

Asuna chuckled, a light, genuine sound that warmed the chilly evening air. “Are pro heroes even allowed to eat sugar?” Katsuki smirked, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief as he raised an eyebrow. “Your mom doesn’t?”

“She likes sweets,” Asuna admitted, taking a bite of one of the almonds. The sweet warmth of it settled on her tongue, comforting in its simplicity. “But she doesn’t cook with a spicy flavor palette much.”

Katsuki nodded, tossing a handful of almonds into his mouth, his gaze momentarily distant. 

“Yeah, Rita needed a special diet. Your mom learned how to re-cook everything for her. ‘S probably why.”

Asuna froze mid-step, her body going still as the words settled over her like a cold wave. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mind raced to process what he'd just said. She stepped off the path, her boots crunching in the snow as she stood near the fence by the playground, the sounds of children’s laughter fading into the background. Her eyes were wide, the shock clear in her expression as she turned to face him. 

“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice low but sharp, like a thread stretched taut.

Katsuki's throat tightened, and he choked on the almonds in his mouth. He scrambled, his face reddening as he coughed violently, struggling to find an answer.

“ASUNA!”

‘Shit! Busted’

“ASUNA!”

Feel free to ask questions or throw what you think is going to happen in the comments!

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r,@v3n7s, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the list!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have some more Katsuki (and other mha) here in the master list.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

[thestrongestjewel]

The Clip post (the crink fanchild)

OK SOO if u follow me on instagram u probably know of this stupid creature I created:

this is clip! and as the little ref you're seeing there implies yes this is in fact a crink fankid because im cringe like that-

so, you might be wondering why did I create the creature? well thats a good question, it ties up with a comic I already posted here actually (this one) . In the universe in which Clip is born cross moves in with Ink in the doodlesphere after the events of underverse and they (mostly by accident) created clip

after a while the rate at which creators made aus started to slow down, putting ink in an artblock that let him pretty sad :( cross only wanted to help, and so he decided he wanted to help ink by creating something of their own! which ended up in- well- them co-parenting a child together lol

they have no idea of what they're doing but they're happy regardless, mind you they're not even dating by this point they just happen to live together and have a child- no romantic feelings whatsoever I promise guys I promise-

anyway, some facts about clip! (most of these are taken from a Q&A I did about him on instagram):

He's 7 years old in universe, just a small baby! pretty smart and self aware for his age though. he's also pretty small and likes climbing on things like a little bug

like ink, he can eat paint, his favorite flavour is lavender! cross tries to keep him in a somewhat normal diet, but its hard because clip does not like to eat actual food, he really likes chocolate mint icecream though.

his favorite parent is ink, he thinks cross is "too lame" and "booring" while ink is more fun and teaches him how to paint.

of course that's just him being a kid, he loves both of his parents very much! he's very confused about their relationship though

(it is in fact very embarrassing clip)

and that's pretty much all I have about them for now- I dont plan on doing any big comics/stories involving them, its not really my main interest I just really liked the concept

If u wanna make fanart of clip or include him in a comic feel free to :D

anyway back to taking a break from drawing I go woaooh

[violent-little-thing]

Slain Dynamics Head Canons

My contribution to Day 2 of Slain Week (dynamics)! These fit so nicely into my AU and many of them are borne of my shared braincell with @violencelittlething. We've got three categories: dynamics as a couple, dynamics as parents, and some NSFW dynamics (which are the closest thing to smut I will write). Enjoy :) @empyreanevents

___

Dynamics as a couple: 

Dain loves using pet names for Sloane. Sweetheart and baby are his go-tos, but he’ll occasionally throw in sunshine (until their daughter is born and that nickname is bestowed upon her). 

They cannot keep their hands off each other. Sloane is always in Dain’s lap. It’s like once she got past her issues with touch, she constantly craved the feel of her man. 

They love washing each other’s hair. It’s such a sweet way for them to take care of each other. 

When Sloane is scared or upset, Dain knows the exact way she likes to be held. She always needs to be on his left side so she can hear his heartbeat. His heartbeat, his soft words, and featherlight kisses ground and comfort her like nothing else. 

During and for several years after the war, Dain had bad nightmares. The only thing that soothed him was laying his head in Sloane’s lap while she ran her fingers through his curls and hummed Tyrrish melodies — the same way her mom would comfort her and Liam as children. 

Dain loves languages and cultures and Sloane MELTS when he speaks Tyrrish to her and goes out of his way to incorporate her lost culture into their life. (Bodhi, of course, is thrilled as well. Sometimes Dain is the only one paying attention when he tells them about customs.)

They have several serious discussions about what to do for a last name. They eventually settle on Aetos-Mairi. As much as he hates his dad, there’s something appealing to Dain about creating new associations with the Aetos name, having it stand for loyalty and devotion rather than brutality and betrayal. Sloane has no intention of dropping Mairi, but she wants the same name as her husband and kids, so they happily agree on hyphenating. For two stubborn people, they actually compromise quite well when it matters. 

Dynamics as parents:

They both want and adore kids, but they wait a little longer than anyone expected before having their first. They enjoy married life for a few years before expanding their family. But once they get started, Sloane is churning them out. They have four kids: 3 boys and a girl. Of course their oldest son is named Liam. 

We already know that Dain is the most doting uncle to Iris and he’s that times 1000 with his own kids. A) Sloane made them and he loves every single part of her; and B) He wants to give his kids every bit of love that he missed his whole life. His dad fucked him up, but he’s breaking cycles. On the other hand, Sloane had amazing parents. They were kind and loving and gave her an amazing childhood until the apostasy. She wants her kids to know the same love and joy that she did as a child.

They teach their kids the importance of loving and cherishing each other and their cousins. 

Sloane was made to be a boy mom and Dain was made to be a girl dad. I said what I said. 

Co-sleeping is safe in this universe. Dain and Sloane love snuggling their babies in between them, having their family together in their bed. They both like having the people they love within arm’s reach throughout the night. 

One of their favorite family activities is having picnics in the meadows of Tyrrendor. Sometimes they’ll stick close to home, other times they’ll load up the kids on Thoirt and Cath and pick a spot Sloane remembers from childhood. Sloane packs the best snacks, Dain brings games, and they just love being together. 

Liam and their daughter look exactly like Sloane, while their two middle boys are mini-Dains. They are the most beautiful family, dragons included. 

They love seeing their children grow up alongside Xaden and Violet’s and Garrick and Imogen’s, with Bodhi in-house as well. Sometimes they just sit and watch the kids play together, wondering how they got so lucky. 

NSFW dynamics heehee:

Sloane LOVES giving up control in bed. She likes to be claimed and dominated. She’s attracted to strength, all that muscle and bulk. Dain loves claiming her, feeling at the most intimate level that she is his.

Dain is a brat tamer for sure. Sloane loves to tease him and rile him up, sending him into disciplinarian mode. 

Dain waits until they’ve been together for several months before he brings up spanking. He’s nervous, afraid that it’ll be a dealbreaker for her. But he’s pleasantly surprised when Sloane blushes cherry red when he suggests it. They take it slow at first, experimenting with pacing and positions. Dain will only use his hand — that’s a hard limit for him — but those large, callused palms are plenty good at what they do. 

Spanking isn’t the only trick up his sleeve. He’s an expert at edging, bringing her to tears without fail. 

He’s also got soft dom written all over him. He’s going to make sure Sloane keeps up with her water intake, eats three meals a day, and gets a decent amount of sleep. 

Sloane has a very sizable collection of Deverelli silk lingerie. Dain’s jaw drops every time he sees her put on a new one. 

They both have a praise kink. Dain needs to be loved and have praised heaped on him after the way he grew up, after all. (And maybe also a teeny tiny bit after the other romantic rejection he’s dealt with).

Wingleader + cadet roleplay. Enough said. 

Dain is the KING of aftercare. Always making sure his girl knows how loved and cherished she is. Cuddles are essential in this house.

[minyoongisnewthing]

Han river lullaby chapter five | myg

Chapter one, Chapter two, chapter three, chapter four chapter six

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, exs to lovers, eventual smut, idol!au, co parents, second chance romance.

Chapter warnings: Sassy uncle Jin should carry his own warning honestly, other then that I don’t believe there are any. If I’m wrong please let me know and I will happily add them.

Word count: 4.8k approximately.

Authors notes: I hope everyone had a great Easter, and I am still so amazed and thankful for the love my story has gotten every comment, like and reblog has meant the world to me, but finally we are here, half way through this story already! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

That Thursday you found yourself standing in Han's preschool hallway, surrounded by tiny art projects and bright construction paper decorations. Parent-Teacher interviews always made you nervous, but this time felt different—because this time, Yoongi was coming too.

You spotted him before he saw you, making his way down the colorful hallway. Even in casual clothes—a simple black sweater and jeans bucket hat pulled low—he looked slightly out of place among the finger paintings and alphabet charts. But the moment Han spotted him, none of that mattered.

"Appa!" Han broke free from your grip, racing toward him. "You came!"

Yoongi's whole face softened as he caught Han, lifting him easily. "Of course I did, I Wouldn't miss it."

Your heart squeezed at the sight—at how natural they looked together, at how Yoongi's eyes crinkled with genuine joy as Han babbled about his artwork on the walls.

"Mr. Min?" Han's teacher, Ms. Park, appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly in recognition before she schooled her features into professional warmth. "And Ms. Y/L/N. Please, come in."

Inside the classroom, Han proudly showed Yoongi the cubby where he kept his school bag, his favorite reading corner, and the plant he was helping to grow. You watched as Yoongi absorbed every detail, asking questions and responding with appropriate enthusiasm to each new discovery.

"And this!" Han dragged Yoongi to the wall of family pictures Han and his pre-school class had drawn. It was an array of stick figures and bright crayon chaos. "This is my drawing of us!"

Your breath caught as you looked at the crayon masterpiece—three stick figures, one tall with black hair (clearly Yoongi), one medium with your hair color, and one small figure between them, holding both their hands, all with big smiles on their faces.

Yoongi went very still beside you, his eyes fixed on the drawing.

"That's beautiful, Han," Ms. Park said gently, sensing the weight of the moment. "Why don't you show your parents what you've been up too in the reading corner?"

As Han tugged you both toward his favorite books, you caught Yoongi discreetly wiping at his eyes

“damn, the little Picasso got me”  

“Softy” you teased nudging his shoulder playfully

The parent-teacher conference itself was surprisingly smooth. You and Yoongi sat side by side, your knees occasionally brushing as Ms. Park went through Han's progress.

"Han's doing wonderfully," she assured you both. "His social skills are excellent, he's very creative, he loves to draw as you saw, and his reading level is actually a tiny bit above average for his age." She smiled warmly. "Though he does have quite the stubborn streak when he sets his mind to something, and sometimes has trouble relaxing at nap time."

You and Yoongi exchanged knowing looks.

"Wonder where he gets that from," you muttered under your breath.

Yoongi scoffed quietly. "Oh, like you're not just as bad, the kid didn’t stand a chance."

The familiar banter felt... nice. Natural. Like maybe you could really do this, that the ease so far hadn’t been a fluke, you could be parents together, support each other, create something stable for Han.

After the conference, as Han showed Yoongi every single book he'd read in the past month, Ms. Park pulled you aside.

"I just wanted to say," she began carefully, "that Han seems... happier lately. More settled. Having both of you here, involved..." She smiled. "It makes a difference."

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat. "Thank you. We're... we're trying."

Looking back at Yoongi and Han, you found them deep in conversation now, about a particularly elaborate block tower Han had insisted on building. Yoongi was crouched at Han's level, listening intently as his son explained his architectural vision, complete with dramatic hand gestures.

"Eomma!" Han called out. "Come see what Appa and I built!"

As you joined them on the floor, watching Han direct Yoongi on proper block placement with all the authority of a tiny construction foreman, you couldn't help but smile.

This was what mattered. These moments, these small victories, this careful dance of building something new while honoring what was.

One block at a time

Later that afternoon, the school reported that Han had taken the best nap he’d had in weeks. And if you and Yoongi shared a smile when picking him up for a park playdate, well, that was just good parenting in your book.

Bright and early the following Saturday morning saw you bleary-eyed, barely caffeinated, and desperately second-guessing your life choices as you pulled into the parking lot of the children’s boutique Yoongi had told you about. According to him, Seokjin insisted it was the place for anyone serious about decking out a kid’s room just like his nephew deserved—and Seokjin had many opinions, especially when it came to his self proclaimed and honorary role as favourite Uncle.

The store was all soft lighting and whimsical displays—tiny clothes that cost more than your entire outfit and themed nursery setups that looked plucked from Pinterest fever dreams. You were still shaking off the fog of sleep when Han, warm little fingers gripping your hand tightly, suddenly lit up with recognition.

“Uncle Jin!!!” he squealed, his voice echoing across the store like a cannon blast. Before you could blink, he let go of your hand and bolted across the polished tile floor, launching himself straight into Seokjin’s waiting arms.

Yoongi’s steps faltered beside Jin. He watched the scene unfold with an expression that could only be described as mild betrayal. You had to bite back a laugh.

“Wow,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “The little traitor, et tu Han.”

A soft chuckle slipped from you. “Drama queen we just can’t compete with the magnetism of Worldwide Handsome up there, I’m afraid.”

Ahead of you, Jin lifted Han easily onto his hip like he did it every day, beaming with pride as the little boy chattered away animatedly. Jin caught your eye and gave you and Yoongi a wink over Han’s shoulder before disappearing further into the store with your son, already pointing at some space themed bedding display.

Yoongi sighed, falling back into step beside you as you wandered down the nearest aisle filled with cloud-shaped nightlights and hand-stitched throw pillows.

“I’ll remember this next time he begs for Dino nuggets, and insists I’m the only one that makes them right.” Yoongi said, mock bitterness in his tone.

You nudged him playfully. “You’ll still cave. You always do.”

He didn’t argue, just smiled in that soft, private way he sometimes did when he thought you weren’t looking.

A few aisles later, you and Yoongi found yourselves crouched in front of a display of bed linens, deep in a heated debate that had somehow become more intense than necessary. His sweater sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, a sure sign he was taking this decision far too seriously.

“I’m just saying,” you argued, picking up a plain navy-blue comforter set, “he’s three. He changes his mind more than he changes his socks. Plain is safer.”

Yoongi held up a comforter set covered in astronauts wearing different coloured space suits. “Okay, but this? This is epic. Look at this little guy! He’s riding a comet!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re such a pushover for him.”

He grinned, unabashed. “Not denying it.”

You were just opening your mouth to tease him further when a sudden burst of animated voices reached your ears. One of them was unmistakably Han—high-pitched, passionate, and growing louder by the second. The other, deeper and equally dramatic, was Seokjin.

Yoongi stood up, peeking over the display. “What the—?”

You followed quickly, and the sight before you nearly had you doubling over with laughter.

In the middle of the store stood Han and Seokjin, fully locked in what could only be described as a theatrical, borderline operatic debate in the middle of the glow-in-the-dark sticker section. Hands were flying, eyebrows were raised, and both parties looked like they were seconds away from presenting PowerPoint slides to back their claims.

“I told you, Uncle Jin, the star ones are cooler!” Han insisted, clutching a packet of star and planet stickers to his chest like they were a rare treasure.

“But dinosaurs, Han, you like dinosaurs.” Seokjin countered, holding up his own pick with flourish. “They roar. These stickers will make your room prehistoric chic.”

Han crossed his arms, glaring up at him with the fiery resolve of a kid who’d watched too many courtroom dramas. “But uncle Jin, space is cooler. Dinosaurs are for babies!.”

Yoongi choked on a laugh beside you.

“Told you his mind changes more than his underwear, but should… should we break that up?” you asked, eyes wide as Han stomped his foot for emphasis.

“No, no,” Yoongi said, biting back a laugh as his eyes crinkled with delight. “I wanna see how this plays out.”

The argument escalated into a flurry of sass, dramatic sighs. Seokjin whipped his hair for emphasis. Han mimicked him with a flick of his whole head. You could’ve sworn you saw a store employee peeking around the corner to spectate.

It ended, of course, with Han triumphant, the galaxy and star stickers clutched in one victorious hand while Seokjin sulked dramatically beside him. But in true Jin fashion, he still tossed the dinosaur stickers into the basket on the way to the register.

All because he was apparently physically incapable of leaving a store without buying just one more thing, Han decided to push his luck by picking up a moon shaped night light, and with nerves of steel turned the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d seen him give up to seokjin, who ruffled his hair and called him a ‘little rascal’ while putting that night light in the cart too.

As you and Yoongi approached, Han was already bragging.

“I told you space was better, Uncle Jin’s just a sore loser isn’t he Appa.”

Seokjin gasped like he’d been mortally wounded. “You wound me, child!”

Yoongi snorted, scooping Han up as he beamed in victory.

“You absolute little hustler,” Yoongi muttered, shaking his head with a grin. “We’re all doomed.”

You couldn’t disagree

Back in Yoongi’s apartment, the three of you had barely stepped inside Han’s room before he clapped his hands in joy and launched into full explanation of his vision.

“Okay! Appa, you do the moon. Eomma, you do the stars. Uncle Jin, you can help me open the stickers,” Han said, already climbing onto his little stool to sit like he was presenting blueprints for a spaceship.

You couldn’t help but laugh, exchanging a glance with Yoongi as you started remaking Han’s bed. The new navy-blue comforter set contrasted perfectly with the pale walls, giving the room a cozy, dreamy vibe that made it feel more like home.

Once the bed was made, Han handed Yoongi a large, glow-in-the-dark moon sticker with a sense of ceremony.

“This one right above my pillow, please,” he said with the utmost seriousness, like its placement determined the success of the entire galaxy.

“Right here,” Yoongi murmured, already stepping up onto the bed to reach the spot Han pointed to.

You turned, just in time to catch Yoongi mid-stretch.

His black crew neck had ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of toned skin and the subtle dip of his waist. His jeans—worn in and soft—fit him like they were tailored, perfectly hugging his frame like sin as he reached for the wall.

You froze, your mouth suddenly dry.

God. Really? Your brain chose now to betray you like this?

You tried to look away, tried to focus on something—anything—else, but your eyes wandered on instinct, tracing the lines of his back, the definition in his forearms, the way his shoulder blades moved beneath the fabric.

The way those damn jeans made it impossible to not look.

Your jaw clenched as you quickly shook your head, trying to banish the thoughts before they spiraled any further. Focus, focus. Stickers. Your child. Room decorating.

But when your gaze drifted sideways, you immediately regretted it.

Seokjin was already watching you, leaned casually against the doorway with his arms crossed and a slow, cat-like grin spreading across his face.

You’d been caught. And Seokjin, of all people, was the last person you wanted clocking you checking out Yoongi’s ass.

Your eyes narrowed, fixing him with what you hoped was your best Don’t you dare stare.

Seokjin raised one teasing eyebrow.

“Not. A. Word.” you mouthed, but it only made him smirk wider.

Thankfully, Han was far too busy trying to peel a sticker off its backing to notice the silent exchange happening above his head.

Yoongi stepped down from the bed with a satisfied hum, brushing his hands off. “Moon, secure and glowing.”

“Perfect!” Han beamed, giving a proud nod. “Now stars everywhere!”

“Everywhere?” Yoongi asked with mock dread.

Han nodded solemnly. “They go all over, Appa. Even the closet.”

Yoongi chuckled, already peeling another sticker. “Guess we’re building a universe huh.”

You smiled as you watched them, heart twisting in that painfully sweet way it always did when Yoongi and Han were like this—effortless. Familiar. Like no time had passed at all.

And then, from behind you, Seokjin muttered low enough for only you to hear, “Staring’s free, you know. But touching will cost extra.”

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

He only laughed harder.

You stood back and took it all in — the glowing constellations scattered unevenly across the ceiling, the oversized moon sticker positioned perfectly above Han’s pillow, the navy comforter smoothed neatly over the bed now crowned with a dozen mismatched plush toys. It was chaos, yes, but it was Han’s chaos. Bright and expressive and entirely his.

Your chest swelled with quiet pride — not just for the room, but for you and Yoongi. Somehow, between awkward co-parenting schedules, you’d managed to give Han this little piece of magic. A space that felt like home in both places.

You started gathering your things, folding Han’s jacket over your arm as he lit up his new moon night light and busied himself assigning names to every single sticker on the wall. You were just reaching for your bag when Yoongi touched your elbow lightly, pulling you aside, his voice dropping low so Han wouldn’t overhear.

“Y/N,” he started, and already his tone was heavy with guilt, “I know I was meant to have him from Thursday through to Monday, but—” he paused, exhaling through his nose. “There’s an event in Japan. It’s important. I really tried to get out of it, but…”

He didn’t need to finish. You saw it in the way his eyes flickered with regret, the way his fingers tapped absently against the palm of his hand.

You shook your head quickly, brushing off the concern before it could settle between you. “Yoon, it’s okay. I don’t want or expect you to halt your career, or any obligations you have.,” you said sincerely. “I’ll talk to the hospital about the crèche schedule or book a sitter during my shift. We’ll make it work — it’s fine, really.”

But Yoongi didn’t look reassured. He looked like a man caught between two worlds — one where his dreams lived under spotlights, and another where they giggled while naming glow-in-the-dark stars. His jaw tensed like he had more to say, like he wanted to argue or apologize more deeply, but all he managed was a quiet, “You sure?”

You nodded with a soft smile. “Positive. He’ll be okay, Yoongi. You’re doing fantastic, we're doing fantastic with him.”

That seemed to break something loose in him — the tension in his shoulders dropped slightly as he looked past you, watching Han hold court almost with his stickers, babbling animatedly about a galaxy he’d created on the wall to his toys.

“He really does love it here,” Yoongi said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You followed his gaze and smiled. “No Yoongi, he loves you. This place is just a bonus to him, a place he sees you.”

Yoongi glanced back at you, eyes softening with a gratitude he didn’t quite know how to voice. And you weren’t sure he needed to.

You’d both managed to placate Han about the change in plans, sweetening the disappointment with the promise that Appa would come to your house for dinner next weekend. It had thrilled him enough to bounce right past his sadness. And now, as you moved through your small apartment tidying the last few things and adjusting the lighting in the dining nook, you realized something: it felt right having Yoongi here again. Not just dropping Han off or picking him up at the door—but here. Inside your home. Moving through your shared space. Not as two exes cautiously orbiting around past wounds, but as parents who were trying.

It had been too long since he’d existed in this world of yours. The lived-in clutter of Han’s books and toys, the candle flickering softly near the TV, the music humming gently in the background. You wanted him to see it—how you and Han lived. To feel the warmth of this home you’d built. Not perfect, but full of love.

The banchan were already laid out: crisp kimchi that snapped lightly with each bite, seasoned bean sprouts glistening with sesame oil, and fluffy white rice steaming in its bowl. The rich, garlicky scent of marinated pork drifted from the oven, its sweet-salty glaze of soy sauce caramelizing to a glossy sheen. The entire apartment felt wrapped in comfort.

A sudden knock, sharp and eager, rattled the door. It was all the warning Han needed. He tore through the room, feet pattering wildly across the wood floors, his voice a shrill squeal of joy.

“APPA!” he shouted, practically vibrating as he skidded to a stop.

Your heart skipped—whether from Han’s excitement or your own nervous flutter, you couldn’t tell. Calm down, you told yourself, smoothing your hands down your sweater. This wasn’t a date. It was dinner.

Still, when you opened the door and saw him—really saw him—you felt like someone had knocked the wind out of your lungs.

Yoongi stood there dressed simply but devastatingly well: a crisp white button-down that skimmed the sharp lines of his shoulders, sleeves casually rolled to his forearms. Dark jeans hugged his legs just right, worn at the knees in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. His black hair was slightly styled, pushed back from his forehead, a few pieces falling rebelliously into his eyes. And those eyes—deep, dark, and warm—met yours with a quiet familiarity that pulled something taut inside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, voice like a slow glide of velvet.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide how your pulse leapt. “Hey. Come in.”

As he stepped past you, his cologne curled around your senses—clean, woodsy, and subtle. Something that smelled like skin warmed by sun and just a hint of spice. Your breath caught for half a second as the scent lingered between you.

Han grabbed Yoongi’s hand before the door had even closed.

“Appa, Appa! Come play in my room! I wanna show you my new cars, the green one zoomed so fast, you won’t believe it!”

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, warm sound from his chest. He ruffled Han’s hair with one hand, his other still clutching the boy’s fingers.

“Of course, buddy. But we’ve got to listen to Eomma—when she calls us for dinner, we come, okay?”

Han nodded with cartoonish enthusiasm. “Okay, let’s go!” And just like that, he tugged Yoongi down the hallway, already rambling about engines and race tracks.

You shook your head with a fond smile, watching them disappear. The soft sound of Yoongi’s low laughter trailed down the hall as you turned back to the table, laying out utensils with slightly trembling hands.

When you finally called them to the table, Han came barreling out, and Yoongi followed at a more leisurely pace, that same amused smile tugging at his lips. He moved with a kind of grounded calm—shoulders relaxed, movements fluid, always slightly slower than the world around him.

You gestured to the seat across from you, and he sat, carefully, like someone easing into unfamiliar territory. His long fingers rested loosely on the table’s edge, thumb brushing against the grain.

“I hope you still like dwaeji bulgogi,” you said, placing a generous helping of the glistening pork on his plate.

Yoongi’s lips twitched into a smile, eyes crinkling slightly. “You know I do.”

You offered a smile of your own, then handed him the rice bowl. “I figured I’d cook something you taught me how to make.”

That made him pause. His dark eyes flicked up, catching yours for a long second. Something unreadable—nostalgia, maybe, or something heavier—glinted there. But he didn’t speak it aloud. Instead, he reached for the bean sprouts, and his hand brushed yours. Just a graze. A whisper of skin. But it set your nerves buzzing like struck wires.

Your eyes met. And for the briefest second, the air between you tightened, a quiet electricity humming in the space that hadn’t existed here in years.

“Eomma makes the best food, right, Appa?” Han said suddenly, his cheeks puffed out with rice.

Yoongi broke the stare first, chuckling softly. “She really does.”

You swallowed, the air still thick around you.

Dinner went on like that. The food, the laughter, Han’s endless chatter. But beneath it all, those touches kept happening. Small. Fleeting. The brush of his fingers passing you the kimchi. The nudge of his knee under the table. The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking.

By the time dinner ended, you were flushed, your heart refusing to calm.

As you cleared the table, Yoongi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, watching you with that quiet attentiveness he always had. His voice, when he spoke, was warm, unassuming.

“Want me to help you clean up?”

You shook your head, waving him off. “No, you’re a guest. Don’t worry about it.”

He let out a dramatic yaa, rising to his feet, and made his way toward you, leaning against the counter like it was second nature.

“Ouch. A guest? Is that all I am?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing, but the smile tugging at his lips was boyish, charming.

You paused, mortified, glancing at him with wide eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant, you jerk.”

His laugh was low, honeyed and rich, and without thinking, your hand dipped into the sink, scooping up a handful of soapy bubbles. In a flash, you flicked them at him, white foam landing squarely on his perfect white shirt.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. He stared down at the soap on his chest, then looked at you like you’d just declared war.

“Oh, you are so in for it,” he said, mock-serious, already dipping his fingers into the sink.

“Yoongi, don’t—!”

Too late. He flicked water in your direction, smirking as you tried to dodge. Bubbles flew, giggles spilled from both of you like you were kids again, caught in the sheer joy of play.

At some point, you lunged forward, towel in hand, intending to retaliate. But instead, you collided with him—your bodies pressing close. His hands landed at your waist to steady you, warm and strong through the fabric of your shirt. Your fingers curled instinctively around his wrist.

You froze. And so did he.

You were chest-to-chest, breaths mingling, hearts pounding. The warmth of his skin seeped through the layers between you, the scent of his cologne so close now it was dizzying. Yoongi’s eyes searched yours, the humor draining into something quieter, something heavier. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then returned to your eyes.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

“Eomma! Appa! Are you okay?”

Han’s voice was a lightning bolt, jolting you both back to your senses.

You stepped back quickly, cheeks flushed, brushing stray bubbles from your arm. Yoongi’s hands slipped away, and he cleared his throat, trying to look unbothered, though that mischievous smile still tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, we’re okay Han,” he called out, loud enough for Han to hear, “Eomma just decided to splash me with dishwater for no reason at all!”

You scoffed, glaring at him. “No reason? You started it!”

“Slander,” he said, grinning.

Han appeared a moment later, clutching his stuffed bunny and looking very serious. “You have to say sorry, Eomma.”

You sighed. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Appa.”

“Can we have dessert now?” Han asked, voice hopeful.

Yoongi chuckled, ruffling his hair. “I think that’s fair.”

You turned back toward the kitchen, and as you reached for the dishes, Yoongi’s voice dropped low behind you.

“Nice apology… Eomma.”

You turned just enough to see that familiar spark in his eyes—and with no hesitation, flicked another bubble at him.

“Oops.”

Yoongi’s narrowed gaze told you this wasn’t over.

Dessert was simple but sweet—dairy-free ice cream with strawberries for Han, while you and Yoongi had regular ice cream topped with fresh fruit. Han happily dug into his bowl, swinging his legs under the table as he hummed in delight at the treat.

After cleaning up, the three of you settled into the living room, Han immediately climbing into Yoongi’s lap as you put on a Disney movie. The room was warm, filled with the soft glow of the TV and the rhythmic sound of Han’s little breaths as he started to relax against Yoongi.

Halfway through the movie, Han’s sleepy voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Appa, can you stay the night?”

Yoongi’s body stiffened just slightly. You felt it before you saw it—the way his fingers tensed against Han’s back, the way his jaw tightened just a fraction before he schooled his features into something softer.

He smoothed a hand over Han’s hair, choosing his words carefully. “Han, son… not this time, okay? Appa has an early morning tomorrow, a really big day.”

Han blinked up at him, sleepy but sharp, studying Yoongi’s face as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. You held your breath, unsure how he’d react.

Finally, after a long pause, Han let out a tiny, resigned sigh and burrowed further into Yoongi’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut.

Yoongi let out a breath of relief, his hand still rubbing slow, soothing circles over Han’s back. He glanced at you briefly, something unreadable in his gaze.

You offered him a small smile, knowing this was something that would take time—Han’s little heart was so eager, so full of love, but this wasn’t a wound that could be healed overnight, but was healing slowly.

Han’s little snores filled the quiet space, soft and steady, a reminder of how completely at peace he was in his sleep. You watched his tiny chest rise and fall, his hand clutching his well-loved bunny, and you felt the familiar warmth of love and protectiveness bloom in your chest.

Gently, you reached out and tapped Yoongi’s shoulder to get his attention. He turned to you, and you nodded toward Han before gesturing for him to follow. Together, the two of you carefully maneuvered Han into his room, mindful not to wake him as you laid him down and tucked the blankets around him.

Standing in the doorway, both of you lingered, watching the way Han snuggled deeper into his blankets, his bunny still firmly held against his cheek. The sight made you smile, but there was also something bittersweet about it.

“I’m sorry about that, Yoon,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

Yoongi shook his head, his voice soft but certain. “It’s okay. I really do have an early day tomorrow. You know… he snores like you.”

Your lips quirked up at the corner, amused. “Yeah? About the only thing he got from me, though.”

Yoongi hummed, his gaze lingering on Han before flickering back to you. “I don’t know… he has your eye color.”

You turned to meet his gaze and found something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place—soft, searching, something close to nostalgia. It made your breath catch for just a moment.

Instead of answering, you simply smiled, letting the moment settle between you. Then, with quiet steps, you walked Yoongi to the door, the air between you charged but gentle.

“Good night, Yoon,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Drive safe home”

Yoongi hesitated, his fingers brushing yours for just a fleeting second before he pulled away. “Good night, y/n”

taglist: @busanbby-jjk @jajabro @kam9404 @yoongiiuu93 @julseka07 @tea4sykes @marihoneywk @maryhopemei @sanarin @misschelliejeon @boraluv @wobblewobble822 @amarawayne @hyuninslutbbgirl @Granataepfelchen @mar-lo-pap @enfppuff @senaqsstuff @vainkiss @rinkud @lanyia

[vagabond-umlaut]

[11:20 PM]

summary: you know suguru loves you—but do you really know suguru loves you?

tags: geto suguru x you; pining; SO MUCH pining; love confession; can this be called 'hurt/comfort'? idk; you're a goner for suguru; suguru too is a goner for you but he's a cult leader here, so tread with caution, y'all; you & suguru co-parent mimi-nana; both of you are sooo... terrible in love *mwah mwah mwah* (no hate nor disrespect meant for online college courses btw <3)

wc: 2k+ (this was supposed to be a drabble T-T)

series: to fall in love is to create a religion (that has a fallible god)

love is stored in the eyes—

you never quite realise this before suguru.

every morning when he hands you your cup of tea just the way you're fond of it; every time he sets out for the cult headquarters with a hug for the twins and a soft smile for you; every evening he returns home, once again wrapping the kids up in a warm hug, and sometimes even pulling you in; every time you bump into him while tidying your house up after you both have successfully put mimi-nana to bed—

no matter the hour of the day, whenever your gaze meets his, you can never fail to understand that suguru loves you, how much suguru is in love with you—

something that never quite fails to leave you breathless.

something that never quite fails to leave you whirring and wondering.

you have always loved suguru.

you loved him then when he was a sweet kind boy, untouched by the grimy nails of the real world. you loved him then when he was a mere shell of the said boy, cracked and crumbling away at the edges. you love him now when he is no longer a boy but a man exacting revenge on the society and all those in it who have wronged him; a man doing what he deems is needed to correct a world that is already tainted at its core.

you reckon you have loved him since before you knew exactly what 'love' entails. you believe you will always love him so; he's the cause, after all, why and how you've learnt the meaning of 'love'.

but, but, but... why does he love you?

had it been before, it would have made sense.

the eldest scion, the only daughter of a prestigious clan. features not the most stunning but charming enough to draw people's eyes when entering a room. gentle and mild, cultured and graceful—albeit not without a mind decently sharp plus a tongue barbed enough to hush any stinging comment. sufficiently good in academics, besides being the owner of a cursed technique so strong, it has oft been compared with the techniques of the zenin's and the kamo's—

long story short, you were assuredly a catch then.

it would have made a hell lot of sense if suguru fell for you then—but he never looked at you then in the manner he regards you now.

even though you have nearly nothing to offer the man now.

what with having been disowned by your parents, disowned by your clan, since the moment you decided to cut your ties with the jujutsu world and support suguru in his efforts. yeah, true, you still possess your good looks, refined upbringing, quick wits and an even quicker tongue—but you've also seen the curse users flocking round suguru. you don't think you can hold a candle to many, so many of them...

and as to the matter of your cursed technique?

geto suguru is the strongest, quite possibly the scariest curse user in recent history. your cursed technique pales when contrasted against the brilliance of his—there is a very slim chance he would cherish you for it. plus, you've seen the curse users flocking around him—there is an extremely high probability of few, if not many, of them having way more intriguing cursed techniques than yours; ones that would catch his eye much more certainly than yours—

you don't really hold any significance in his life other than taking care of nanako and mimiko, and occasionally putting in your two cents on the affairs of the cult... things, you're certain, suguru can easily find a far more suitable person for—

oh.

oh, oh.

does he actually love you?

you aren't reading the man wrong, are you?

said man merely blinks when you vault this ask onto him one night.

it takes him a beat before he questions back, "what?"

"you heard me, senpai," you hum a breezy reply, fighting your urges to look away and at the laptop open before you; the college you go to might be online but the assignments are in no way any less difficult—but then again, how can you wrench your gaze away when it is your dearest geto-senpai?

good or bad, you don't know, but you've always been too too weak for him. and now when he is standing before you, face crumpled up in an adorable frown while his eyes—those coal-black pools of gravity that are still telling you he loves you—they stay focused on you, and solely on you, not even granting a glance to the fact that his sleeves are not rolled up any more and are getting wet in the tap water—

"senpai," you start, your worry for his well-being eclipsing all the other concerns—suguru barely glances away from your face as he turns the water off and leans against the sink, turning entirely to face you. your ears feel warm under the weight of his unwavering gaze, but you vow not to pay them any mind.

not tonight.

not now.

"i know i've been a tad too busy these days," suguru explains, a weary sigh underlining his soft syllables, and making your heartstrings twist and twinge, "but that doesn't mean i don't love you or the twins—you three are my family—"

confused, you frown, trying to understand just what suguru is talking about... only for the realisation to dawn upon you a beat later.

you crack a smile, the words leaving you drenched in an undeniable fondness, "i know you love us, senpai. you're very much a family man; there's no doubt about it—i was just wondering if you love me or not."

"but didn't you just say you know—ah."

a muscle cramps behind your ribs. you realise you've never been this forthright before.

you've never loved anyone before.

those stifled urges of looking away and ducking under the too bright glow of your laptop screen surge once again, yet you suppress them more easily than then—but your heart doesn't prove to be as easy to tame, skipping and cramping and stuttering as you stare at the man before you. mentally drinking in the sight of him standing in the dim kitchen lights, dressed in a loose shirt and a pair of pyjamas with the sleeves soaking wet from washing dishes, and most notably, a novel but so very endearing flush creeping up from the little which can be seen of his chest, crawling up into his neck before the vivid red hues perfuse into, settling beneath the smooth skin of his cheeks—

you suck in a sharp breath, barely perceived but very much felt, when your gaze finally meets his. and those eyes, you find—those beautiful, wretched, wretchedly beautiful eyes—they appear to be drinking you in; inescapable black holes of the universe condensed into those thin sharp eyes you have grown to adore so much—

"i do," he offers quietly, voice so soft you might have mistaken it for a breeze outside had your five senses not been focused on him—solely on him—"i love you... the way you want me to... the way you've always loved me... i—i love you."

were you anyone but you, you would have been nursing a giggle now, seeing the oh-so-eloquent, oh-so-charming geto-sama falter, repeat and fumble with his words and sentences.

were you anyone but you, you would have been sporting a blush now, grasping the fact that you haven't been as guarded with your feelings for your former senpai as you have always liked to think you have.

were you anyone but you, you would have opted to bask in the sweet warm afterglow of being confessed to by the man you've been loving since seemingly forever—not everyone is so damn lucky in love, after all; not everyone gets to hear those three words, eight letters by geto suguru, after all...

it is one thing seeing the love for oneself in the eyes of one's beloved. it is another thing hearing them lend voice to that love.

but you aren't anyone but you.

which is why you can't help but make a sour face, tone bitterly baffled as you ask, "but why would you?"

"why would i?"

you nod your head in reply to suguru's echoed question, deciding not to pay any mind to its terribly dumbstruck tenor. "mmhm! why would you fall in love with someone like me, senpai? i've got nothing to give you in return; you won't get any sort of benefit falling in love with me. why would you ever choose to love such a person, senpai?"

suguru doesn't say anything for a while.

he just keeps staring. too too quiet, he cuts quite an imposing figure as he leans against the sink and keeps looking at you—it would have been creepy, you think, were it anyone but him. but it isn't, he's your geto-senpai, so you don't deem it to be creepy. just a little terrifying, and a lot alluring, if you ought to be honest—

"do you love me?" the man asks suddenly.

you waste not even one breath to shoot back, "i do. you know i do."

"but why would you?"

"wha—" you start, thrown off-kilter by this abrupt swerve suguru has made your conversation take. he merely smiles, not leaving you even one square inch space to wedge a foot in, "let alone advantages, i've brought you nothing but disadvantages, love—had you not fallen for me, you would have been living a comfortable posh life at your clan's estate"—no—"most probably promoted to the rank of a special grade sorcerer by now"—no—"or perhaps, attending a reputed university"—no—"and not have been stuck here, in some cheap two bedroom flat, with the words 'curse user' tainting your pristine image and a bounty on your head so high that you have to sit at home and take an online college course—"

"will you please shut up?"

in hindsight, you'll reckon that you should have kept your voice down lest the twins wake up and start crying in the next room. in hindsight, you'll also reckon that you should never have talked in such a tone to the man in front of you—but in this moment, you do not really reckon anything.

barely restraining your anger as it threatens to spill over as acid from your words, as tears from your eyes.

"so what, senpai? so what? i am in love with you!! i haven't decided to do business with you, that i must be aware of the possible risks, and profits and losses, and all that bullshit—i've decided to love you!! and i'll keep loving you because of and in spite of everything that you are, no matter wh—"

oh.

oh, oh—

oh.

your laptop lets out a faint beep.

one room away, you hear mimiko call for you then her adoptive father.

despite the maelstorm of emotions—enlightened?relieved?mortified?—wrecking havoc in your chest, you tear your gaze away from suguru and get up, a stripe of regret settling in your messy palette of feelings when the little girl's voice reaches you once again, much more frantic than the last time—

only to be pushed back into your chair by a large, slightly damp hand over your shoulder.

"stay here," suguru says, eyes crinkling and lips curled in an effortless smile; quieting you when you move to protest, "and while you're here, teach yourself to be a bit more kind to yourself, yes? my patience can only last for so long when someone insults me or what belongs to me—" he pauses, smile falling a bit as his eyes abruptly dip to the hollow of your throat, thumb brushing a gentle stroke over your collarbone—

your breath catches in your throat.

precisely at the spot suguru has trained all his focus on.

his eyes rise to meet yours, as swift as they fell then—

and you return a distracted nod—too occupied losing yourself in the abyss inside those obsidian pools of love; too blind to the sharp little tilt of his lips, when the object and subject of your adoration croons.

"you do understand what i'm saying—don't you, my love?"

early twenties cult leader suguru is the freakiest of all the suguru's, i believe ^_^

divider by @/cafekitsune

[kinardsevan]

While we're on the subject, one of my favourite random fun facts about oliver is that he works with a charity that takes care of firefighters' health. He pays for their workout equipment for example. He's by far not the one who earns the most on that show but he does so much, I think he doesn't get enough credit but so much shit for nothing, this fandom is so weird sometimes

this fandom is also made up of people who are all ages across the spectrum, which is part of what makes it problematic.

...it's hard for me. because I came out of the NCIS fandom (into the 911 fandom, I mean) as someone who joined in at 19, and fell in love with Michael Weatherly. I loved the show so much that I enjoyed the features on the DVD sets (yes, I'm showing my age, but shut up 😂), and I remember him specifically talking about how the show used to be a popular thing for people of a certain age (read: people in their 30s and 40s), but by s8, 9, 10, people had been watching the show so long that their kids had grown up on it, and now these 15, 16, 17 year-old's were into the show as well. 911 is nearing that area, and we also have the issue that those who create for the BoBs are often sharing stuff that suggests the two are together without actually confirming that it is in fact a fanon ship. so then you have young people entering the fandom, seeing what they're reading as queer storytelling that simply hasn't been acted upon, only for characters like Ana, Marisol, and Taylor to come into play and frustrate them. But at the time, that's okay, because they're all women.

Like, it's not lost one me why all shit went to hell in a few weeks back in April 2024. for an entire class of fans of this show, buddie was always the answer. even when Tommy was first brought in, it was celebrated because "holy fuck, Evan Buckley is canonically bisexual. they finally pulled the trigger!" further, as a fandom member (and especially if you're in the "other" fandom, as I so lovingly refer to them), this is a pawn you have to play. you have to have a bad hand that you lay down so that you can get in the door, right? someone you get to throw on the sword so that you can come out the other side and achieve the point of "we're here. we made it. now lets get down to real business".

except. people like LFJr. fans like Tommy. if you're someone like me, who was GA right up until then, you had no reading on buddie, never shipped it, but then came in with the pilot and said "let him stay, we like this one". OR, maybe you were already here, and you never shipped buddie. OR maybe you had shipped buddie at one point, but something about Tommy (or the toxicity of the other side, or a million other reasons), pulled you into this side of the fandom. either way, twice now, both GA and fandom have told TM & Co., we like Tommy and we like Lou, and we want him to stay. further, we like bucktommy, and we want to keep them. that's a big threat to those in the buddie fandom.

you know what's even harder to contend with?

when you're 19, and you think the love story you've been following for years isn't going to be given to you. I've said a lot recently, I was in the Ezria fandom. I did NOT like RG coming into that ship and disrupting things. (I didn't like any of the others either, but the spurious connection between both shows still makes me laugh). I was the 19 year old in 2012 when 2b aired for PLL that was like "Fuck you mean Ezria is gonna break up? that her parents won't support it?" let me be so for real too by telling you that I never watched PLL LESS than when they were broken up in seasons four and five.

I know I've taken this conversation so off the rails in a completely different direction 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 but I say it all to make the point that, I understand the BoBs. but that doesn't mean I support what they've said or agree with it. I definitely don't agree with the bullying, because I was never a part of that crap when I was watching PLL. ship what you want, absolutely. but keep it to the fandom spaces. your posts don't belong on OS, RG, or LFJr's instagram/twitter/bluesky, etc posts, telling them that you don't like one of them or that you think they should die or that you're coming for them.

also, kids, as an elder(ish) millennial, let me remind you that what you put on the internet is out there forever (or at least until a server crashes 🤣). maybe think about that the next time you wanna tell an actor to go off themselves (or that you're going to do it or them).

[lilyginnyblackv2]

I know it's a small thing that shouldn't bother me, but...The cats in Seasons 10 and 11 are Spike and Xander's, not Spike and Buffy's.

I'm a Spuffy shipper, but the cats aren't theirs. I see this a lot on Twitter. Spuffy fans who haven't read the comics got this misconception that the cats are Buffy and Spike's, but really they are Spike and Xander's, and this is important to acknowledge. Buffy pets the cats once in a while and is cool with the cats cuddling with Spike in their bed, but she never cares for the cats, barely interacts with them, and would likely not view them as hers in any way (like with Miss Kitty Fantastico - that was Tara and Willow's cat).

The cats being Spike and Xander's thing is so important, especially for Spike's character growth. In the TV series, we see that Spike is constantly living his life and creating himself and his persona after whatever woman is in his life and takes center stage in his eyes, whether that is with his familial love for his mother or the more romance focused love and relationships that he has with characters like Drusilla and Buffy. Harmony is a female character that Spike ends up with during very transitional times for himself:

Season 4 & Early Season 5 - when his character is very lost and trying to find a place now with the chip in his head.

Angel Season 5 - the brief fling that we see him have with Harmony after he comes back to a solid state of being.

Basically, Spike is a male character that has a very long and storied history with women and especially Buffy. So much of Spike's character is tied to Buffy and to the passion of lust and romance. A key element of TV show Spike's character is him being Love's Bitch. A lot of people love his speech in Season 3's Lovers Walk, and I do understand and get why, but I also feel like his perspective on romance and love is actually rather immature and shallow - a juvenile take that speaks to his issues with codependency.

We see Buffy and Spike move into a healthier direction in Season 7 of the TV show, but Spike's (and Buffy's) codependency is still a problem that needs to be worked through and overcome. Over the course of Angel Season 5 and the comics, we see Spike finally reaching a place where his sense of self and identity isn't completely tied to the women in his life.

Over the course of the TV show we also see that Spike doesn't seem to bond easily with other men (he has Clem and the other demon guys he plays kitten poker with, but that's not quite the same and doesn't really apply to the other human men in the show like Xander or Giles). But, by the end of Season 10 we see Spike having a stronger bond with both Xander and Giles (I'm not even going to bring up Angel here, because that is a whole different post). This is a long journey that Spike has been on since Season 4, when we first see him living with and co-existing with the male characters like Giles and Xander. The Xander and Spike roommate situation is very important, because we see an evolution of it that reflects the growth of both Spike and Xander over the course of the series as a whole.

In Season 4, Xander and Spike are in very transitional phases of their lives and Spike living with Xander is forced upon them both. The place they are living in is a temporary and transitional space that doesn't belong to either of them (Xander's parents basement). There is animosity and resentment. It's funny, but also awkward, and the bad blood is still strong.

In Season 7, we have Xander in more of a position of power over Spike, not only because Spike is staying in a place that Xander pays for, but also because Spike is in a bad place. He is still not fully in his right mind because of The First and his newly acquired soul, and Spike is still adjusting to having a soul. He's still very unsure of himself and his place. There is some bad blood still, but it is more subdued and both Spike and Xander keep more to themselves rather than antagonizing each other. We've seen Xander understanding Spike a bit more over the years, but with the fall out from Season 6, Spike wouldn't be considered a friend or part of his circle still. Spike is a necessary ally in a fight that involves something bigger than all of them. Still, we see Xander not automatically jumping to the worse conclusion with the whole Sleeper situation with Spike and there has been obvious growth with both Xander and Spike as individual characters and as a pair.

In Season 10, Spike has lived his life away from the Scoobies for a number of years and Xander has moved on from Buffy. They are both older and more mature as individual characters, and they understand themselves better. Spike is more self-aware of his flaws when it comes to himself and women and his own lack of self-worth, while Xander is actively going through therapy and working on himself. They both get an apartment together and are sharing the costs together. Spike ends up in a slightly better state (at least mentally speaking) than Xander in Season 10, but there isn't the same power imbalance and the bad blood is mostly gone. They still have their little disagreements, but by Season 10 Spike is considered part of the Scoobies and Xander would likely view him as a friend.

And this is where the cats come in. They are a gift from Spike to Xander, specifically, and they are dependent beings that Spike and Xander raise together. In Season 11 we even see them talking about who is watching the cats like the cat dads that they are together.

The cats are theirs and specific to their bond. The cats bring Spike and Xander closer as friends and, though I don't have any love for Season 12, the cats are likely a big part of what make it so that Spike is a welcomed guest in Xander's own home. Even after Spike and Buffy are no longer dating (on a break, however you want to view their situation in Season 12, lol). Spike no longer needs a direct connection to Buffy in order to be a part of the group, because in the comics we see him building and having friendships and bonds outside of Buffy and Dawn.

He isn't the a co-dependent Love's Bitch anymore. He's still Spike and he still loves deeply and passionately. He still cares about those around him and wears his heart on his sleeve, but he also has a better and more rounded understanding of himself and is able to function and exist outside of a romantic relationship (or outside of having a crush/a rebound relationship/etc.). The reason for that is largely due to things like the Spander Cats.

I love Spike, I love Buffy, I love Spuffy, and I love the way their relationship grows and evolves and changes over time...But not everything involving Spike or Buffy is specifically tied to or about Spuffy.

[xitsensunmoon]

Continuing my previous post-

As someone with a tiny grasp of coding, I can never stop thinking about the au where we're not a mechanic, but an IT expert.

The dca is the first animatronic to get infected with this weird bug and both Faz co and the robot themself are aware of it. Sun is mean to us at first because he thinks he and Moon can manage everything on their own Just Fine and they don't need us.

And the fun part is, we actually don't like them either! And for a quite realistic reason nowadays - every technology is created to benefit big corporations and not the public. Big corporations like... Well. Faz co. You, as an IT specialist are aware of it as no one else, seeing how so many features that would benefit the public get scrapped during the development of many of your projects just because it wouldn't Make Money.

And you do think about Sun and Moon just like about those fucking patrolling "robot dogs" that some of the counties want to insert into our society. What if they are just another Al that is created to underpay actual babysitters? To just fire professionals, to cut corners with some raw underdeveloped Al, to not pay for human labour. Maybe they're even some kind of spyware, to figure out employees' and parents' secrets, who knows?

Well. You. You know. Err- correction, you will know. You just need to open their code and find out what is causing the issue. Alongside, find out what exactly this Daycare Attendant is. Or who is?

You're as sceptical about them as they're about you. But bills need to be paid and bugs need to be fixed, a robot dog it is or a daycare attendant. You gotta work together, somehow.

[quendlyn]

Hellooooo the first thing I've ever posted here, so this will probably be a mess. 

So story idea, inspired by regular boy: daniel wayne by diamond_rozie on Ao3. Basically in the story Danny is the blood son of bruce and he as a baby was switched with the actual Fenton baby. Fenton baby dies for obvious reason and Danny is raised by the Fentons. The bats think Phantom is the ghost of the actual Fenton baby and he's been watching over Danny. Danny moves into Wayne manor. More happens but that's all that’s needed for my idea. OK! 

Keeping the original baby swap idea but Phantom is actually the dead baby's ghost! He has been watching the bats his whole life but he’s never been seen by them because he wasn’t strong enough to become visible or physical. He goes to Amity because somehow he can sense Danny’s accident and he comes to meet Danny. Story goes the same, just Danny and Phantom are two different people. Fast forward Ellie/Dani is a clone of Danny and Phantom, but because of that peculiar mix Ellie destabilized and Danny (trans Danny optional) has to incubate her to like help regrow her body and the reason Danny does it instead of Phantom is cause Danny found her first. Pariah Dark takes over Amity and both Danny and Phantom beat him together. They are considered king by the RealmsTM. Ellie is born as a princess. Fast forward story goes the same Evil Danny comes around, he is created by Danny dying in the explosion along with his family. He was also incubating Dani at the time so her core is destroyed. Story goes the same and Dan ends up with CW. At some point Dan is realized or he escapes and he goes to Amity. He was very weak after being in the thermos for so long so when the GIW attacked him he ended up destabilizing and surprise surprise Danny ends up incubating him. The baby swap is revealed and Danny is contacted by Bruce and co to meet the batfam. He goes for one reason or another, maybe because he wants to protect himself and Dan via getting away from his parents and the GIW, maybe Phantom wants Danny to meet his birth family and see his grave. Danny goes while he's effectively pregnant, he knows the bats are the Waynes. Either during Dan’s birth or during Danny and Phantoms coronation the Batfam is brought to infinite realms and they find out about Phantom and kids. They find out about the whole story by a tapestry timeline that goes over their lives. Maybe there is more than one for Ellie’s creation, Dan’s creation, how Danny and Phantom became king (starting from Danny’s accident), or maybe the very beginning showing Phantom watching the bats. 

IDK that all I got right now enjoy!

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: July 3

2019

Fall On Your Knees [david/patrick, M, 609] by @mostlyinthemorning

“It overwhelms him sometimes, the weight of it takes his breath away, makes him want to drop to the ground.”

I Like You Here [david/patrick, E, 13,352] by Katsudonfemmefatale

One of many iterations of Patrick and David’s “alone time” at Stevie’s apartment.

Nico [david/patrick, E, 2,104] by @wildxwired

David pulls his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans and sits up against the pillows. Patrick leans up to see more. “I’m sending you my logins for CockyBoys.”

perfectly imperfect... [david/patrick, t, 1,225] by @startswithhope

He’d been tossing and turning for an hour next to Patrick, who was asleep nearly the second his head hit the pillow. David feels another pang of guilt when he thinks about why Patrick’s so exhausted, hating to learn that Patrick hadn’t been sleeping much this past week that they were apart. David, on the other hand, had spent his depressive days after the barbecue sleeping. So much sleeping that he’s now wide awake, spinning yarns about how close he’d come to fucking up the best thing that’s ever happened to him over a few stupid gifts.

The Days After [david/patrick, E, 20,160] by @letteredlettered

David's not used to having feelings for so many people in the same place all at once.

wanna tell you secrets no ones ever heard before [david/patrick, T, 4,543] by @thegrayness

Patrick stared at the plate in front of him. “So...you—you can cook. You can actually physically collect ingredients and create a—really good looking dish.”

2020

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE - 4.02 Pregnancy Test Coda Fic [david/patrick, E, 8,109] by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

This is a CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE style fic.This means do not read it from start to finish. There are thirty-five different stories that can be generated by following the different pathways.If you feel so inclined, track your choices and let me know in a comment what route you took each time. Fully hyperlinked for optimal reader experience! Nerd out with me in Chapter 25!

Customer Service [david/patrick, T, 3,400] by @petrodobreva

David is a sales representative-slash-personal stylist at a department store. Patrick is a clueless customer.

Heart on Your Sleeve [stevie & patrick, G, 1,800] by @streetlampsunset

Patrick thinks a lot about Stevie, decides she’s his platonic soulmate, and gets a tattoo. Patrick wished he had a better memory, that he remembered exactly what she had said when they first met. More, he wished that her words had been scrawled across his arm in the first place. He settled for the next best thing, because the first words he remembered her saying came with a rush of fondness so deep he thought maybe the universe got it wrong sometimes. Stevie was his soulmate too, he decided. Patrick ran his fingers over the post-it she had stuck on his lunch that morning and picked up his phone. “Hi,” Patrick said after someone picked up on the other end, “do you accept walk-ins?”

Rachel's Letter [patrick/rachel, G, 550] by For_pucks_sake

Rachel sends letters to Patrick every time they break up.

Red Velvet Surprise [david/patrick, T, 2,537] by @asoftplacetoland

In which Patrick is determined to surprise David with a special birthday cake and David acts very surprised.

Rotten Miracles [david/patrick, G, 2,130] by @froggierboy

Pre-Grad Night, David and Stevie join Patrick for a movie night. The plot is a thinly veiled frame for lots of yearning. - David leans against the counter, supporting himself on both hands as he lets his shoulders slump. It's nearly closing time, and this conversation is ridiculous, but he feels comfortable. The store has only been open for a little over a week, but the three of them have spent so much time in this space together that it feels natural, standing at the counter and getting harrassed by the two of them.

Sand and Stone [david/patrick, T, 2,862] by @streetlampsunset

David and Patrick co-parent a dog and fall in love. David never made it to the Mennonite farm when he ran away in Roland’s truck. Instead, he found Blue, a lost sheepadoodle, on the side of the road. Two years later, he and Alexis were in the beginning stages of opening Rose Apothecary when she decided to move in with Ted, leaving him in need of a roommate. Patrick arrived in Schitts Creek looking for a fresh start and found a few things he thought he’d lost instead.

tell me about yourself [patrick & ray, G, 1,154] by etben

Beyond getting several paper cuts in the same day or receiving the news that someone in your family has betrayed you to your enemies, one of the most unpleasant experiences in life is a job interview. —Lemony Snicket Patrick’s job interview goes okay, actually.

Unsportsmanlike Behavior [david/patrick, T, 1,424] by bigficenergy

“Four RBI!” Patrick yells as he steps on home plate again and keeps going. “What?!” “Runs batted in! You had four! I’m running one lap for each!”

2021

Can You Help Me [david/patrick, G, 2,500] by @trueillusion82

“Are you okay?” David repeated, even though he knew the probable answer. He just hoped Patrick didn’t have food poisoning from the quick dinner they’d grabbed at the cafe after closing. “I need… Can you…” Patrick started and stopped, still breathing heavily. “I’ve got a migraine.” “Oh, honey,” David said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and tugging on his favorite Ugg boots. *** Patrick calls David in a moment of need.

No One Says Lice [david & stevie, G, 636] by @gingerann

David and Stevie have a conversation about Patrick.

tender love and care [alexis/twyla, G, 856] by @rosedavid

When Twyla is sick, it's Alexis's turn to take care of her girlfriend.

You're the Real MVP [david/patrick, E, 979] by YouWereAlwaysGonnaBeTheOne

Patrick tends to the MVP after the big game.

2022

[podfic] Birthday Spanking [david/patrick, E, podfic] by growlery

It's David's birthday and heads to a sex club in Toronto to let off some of the steam building up from pining over his business partner. He hopes to find a hot stranger to give him a birthday spanking. What he finds is Patrick Brewer in a too-tight short-sleeved shirt more than willing to help David get what he wants.

i'll save you a seat [david/patrick, T, 1,146] by orphan_account

He cleared his throat, “Are you lost?” The pale guy looked up to him, “Excuse me?” “You’re in my seat and you don’t look like you belong here.” “It’s a public library, I don’t think you can really claim a seat as your own in here,” the guy was looking at him intensely and if David didn’t know better, he’d think the guy was amused by this situation. or: david and patrick meet in the university library

I'm Stuck on Your Heart [david/patrick, NR, 28,104] by Autumn_tide

What if Schitt’s Creek wasn’t where Patrick met David for the first time? What if there was a past history? But, what if David didn’t remember?

Season with Love [david/patrick, T, 5,038] by @lastchancecafe13

"Patrick is so like Clint, always on the go with something." He can hear her smile through the line. "I remember struggling with that when we first got married because I'm such a homebody." "Yes," David sighs, happy that somebody gets it.__________ While settling into married life David finds an unlikely cooking companion in the form of Marcy Brewer.

Stronger With You [david/patrick, E, 500] by @a-noble-dragon

Muscles clench and bulge beneath David’s tight grip. His fingers dig hard into solid straining flesh, one into a delicious tricep, and one into his husband's thick neck. He can feel the way the veins stand out under his palm, beating steadily as though he holds the powerful throb of Patrick's heart right there in his hands.

2024

F7 [david/patrick, T, 4,692] by @68henley

When David's first idea for an anniversary present for Patrick doesn't pan out, he stumbles onto something else, but has second thoughts after it's too late. Patrick, on the other hand, is in love with the gift, and his husband.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017, 2018, or 2023 2019: 6 fics/41,993 words 2020: 9 fics/23,966 words 2021: 4 fics/4,971 words 2022: 5 fanworks (4 fics, 1 podfic)/34,800 words 2024: 1 fic/4,692 words Total: 25 fanworks (24 fics, 1 podfic)/110,422 words

[squidwardisanoctopus]

accidentally remembered Maximum Ride exists and now I have Thoughts on fixing this mess

first of all 6 kids is too much for the main cast. Iggy and Gazzy get smooshed together to form an explosion loving 10 year old who is Angel's older brother. The experiments that resulted in Angel were first tested on him and that's why he is blind. He loves his sister so much but he is also a child and makes bad decisions sometimes. He sometimes clashes with Max about her leadership.

Max is our first successful hybrid and a proof of concept. It took a lot of testing to make Max work, but once they knew she was going to survive long term, the lab began developing more variations of bird kids based on her. She is Dr Martinez's biological child but all Dr Martinez did was sell her eggs in her 20s with no knowledge of what would happen. Dr Martinez is an otherwise normal veterinarian. Max is visibly not white.

Fang is the second successful bird kid and only a little younger than Max. He is very loyal but not a natural leader and the process they used to make him is different than the one used to make Max and the other kids. This only becomes important later when the lab decides they want a breeding pair and aren't sure if Max and Fang could reproduce. He is Nudge's editor for HER blog, he himself is not interested in internet fame.

Nudge is a wannabe influencer. Max won't let her post her face, but she is an avid social media user and eventually learns to leverage her audience to her advantage by leaking secret science information and eventually begins posting about the flock as a unit to her adoring fans. Max hates this so much until it becomes useful. Nudge no longer hates herself, she just feels like a liar for having to hide who she is.

Angel is the "perfected" bird kid. She has extra abilities compared to the rest of them and Nudge and Iggy/Gazzy are considered failed attempts to create what Angel became. She gets preferential treatment by the scientists at the lab and is sometimes a shit about this. She also thinks shes better than regular humans.

All the bird kid powers are related to actual things real birds can do, such as mimicry and having an internal sense of where North is. Angel being telepathic is not a bird kid power but the result of the scientists testing out a new wave of enhancements. Max and Fang, being early successes, don't have a lot extra. Max has a crazy dive from her hawk DNA and Fang gets enhanced pattern recognition. Nudge gets her emotional sense, which is considered a failed attempt at telepathy, and Iggy/Gazzy has his mimicry but nothing psychic.

We follow a 3 book structure in which we gradually become aware that the lab they escaped from is not unique, but a branch of a secret monopoly company set on an eco-fascist takeover. All the kids were grown from eggs sold to evil "fertility clinics" by young women who had no idea what was going on and may or may not want to reconnect with their bird-progeny. The evil plot is that humanity as it exists is too disconnected from nature and corrupted by modern society, so we need to induce a global disaster to wipe out the population and rebuild with our mutant army. The Flock, having had to run and hide for their whole lives, are initially attracted to this plan until they make real connections to people like Dr Martinez and decide they can't let humanity be killed. There is a brief schism in the group over this but they all come together in book 3 to blow up labs and fight back. Ultimately, it takes Max's leadership, Nudge's exposing everything online, Iggy/Gazzy's love of pyrotechnics, and found family love to expose the plot and destroy the laboratories, while freeing mutant kids they meet along the way.

With the secrets exposed and a bunch of mutants released into the wild, Max and co. are now free to just exist without fear of being hunted. Max and Nudge both get to spend time with their moms, but the rest of the group were not wanted by their biological parents and bond with other mutant kids instead. Maybe they all go to school on a government grant or something. I don't feel like adressin the later books at this point this post is way too long as is

[8100d1u57]

Beginning to think that Kodaka was earnestly trying to realistically explore incestuous dynamics in Danganronpa without romanticizing or fetishizing it, but just failed to stick the landing. Kako and Ima are probably one of the best depictions of emotional incest that I've seen in a piece of media. It's genuinely insane to me to think that the man who wrote the monokubs incest subplot and ultra despair girls actually wrote this (I actually like ultra despair girls but I fully agree that it's very problematic in execution).

Kako and Ima both lost their parents due to a car crash, and with no family to take them in, are forced to survive all on their own. Ima is essentially forced into child prostitution to survive, doing anything and everything to keep his twin sister safe and happy despite their horrific circumstances. Due to his constant sexual abuse, his feelings for Kako become warped and toxic, becoming overprotective and overbearing. As long as she's safe, everything he goes through is worth it to him. This puts her on a high pedestal as they have no friends. She's the only light in his dark life.

However, they both know this co-dependency is toxic. While Kako cares deeply for Ima as well, she always pulls away or tells him that he's embarrassing her. She's trying desperately to get Ima to see her as an equal, as a sibling, because not only is he smothering her, he's smothering himself in the process. There's even a route where she absolutely snaps at Ima for his emotionally abusive treatment of her, rebelling against him completely and Ima's instance to not change things between them nearly tears them apart.

Ima hates that Kako is growing up, but in his final bond event, he talks about how it's probably good that she's rebelling and trying to stand on her own, even if it hurts him. Now that he actually has friends and a community to protect not only Kako, but him as well, he's actually able to start healing their relationship and slowly but surely chipping away at the pedestal he's put her on.

Sure sometimes Ima's for lack of a better term, "siscon" tendencies are played for laughs and Kakos persuasion bit was kind of uncomfortable even if I understood where Takumi was coming from, but at its core it's actually so well written. And to top it all off, when fans asked if Kako and Ima were romantically involved, this was the response.

I actually feel so bad because Kodaka's "incest fetish" has been a joke in the fandom for a while because of how it shows up in his games. Like I still feel like I was right for shitting on him for his handling of Korekiyo, especially with how painfully triggering chapter 3 is for me, but I forgive him now for mishandling him. Especially because if you read between the lines of Korekiyo's bonding events, his story is actually pretty heartbreaking and realistic. The definition of a good idea with horrible execution. I haven't read the light novels so I can't comment on Mukuro/Junko.

It's genuinely difficult to find the line where representation becomes fetishization sometimes. That's part of the reason I read works that do fetishize taboo themes. There's so few works that does it right, that all I can do to find that line is to analyze fetish works to figure out what was handled well and what is not. My hope is that my studies will help myself and others be able to create transgressive works that actually represent the horrors and realities of sexual abuse in particular. I think that Kako and Ima are probably the biggest show of how Kodaka has learned and grown from his past mistakes to become a better writer. I kinda hope this just isn't a one time fluke because if this man can keep banging out excellent incest victim rep from now on, I would be the happiest girl in the world. We desperately need stories that'll undo the damage of decades of incest porn brainrot that has made people see it less as actual abuse and instead a gross kink.