#i don’t want my child to suffer like me

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Beside You

A little Gil Galad for you all today! I'm working on the next part Across Time as well!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stand at the foot of your bed, arms crossed, watching as Gil-galad, your husband, collects his armor and prepares to leave. His movements are methodical, almost mechanical, as if this is simply another duty to be done, another battle to face. But for you, this is more than just a matter of duty. This is your husband preparing to ride off to war, to leave you behind with nothing but promises and fears.

"Ereinion, wait," you say, your voice tight, struggling to remain composed. "This is too dangerous. To march on Eregion now—this is madness. You cannot go."

He pauses, just for a moment, his gaze flickering to you before returning to the task at hand. His jaw clenches, a brief flash of irritation in his eyes, but he doesn't answer right away. You know him too well—he has already made up his mind. The decision, for him, is already made.

"I must," he finally says, his voice even, but there is an underlying edge that catches you off guard. "I am the king of the Noldor. My people need me."

"Your people need you here, with me," you reply, your heart pounding in your chest. "We need you here, safe. Your duty is to protect them, but for that you have your armies and generals- not yourself!"

Gil-galad looks at you, and his expression softens briefly, but then he shakes his head, as if trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. "You knew what my duty was when we married," he says quietly. "A king cannot hide behind his walls while his people suffer. A king’s place is with his people. My place is on the front lines."

Your chest tightens, frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what will we do while you're off risking your life? Mend the curtains and sit pining by the window? You cannot be so blinded by your duty that you leave me behind like some- some helpless child! What if something happens to you? At the very least let me accompany you-"

"Enough!" Gil-galad interrupts, his voice a commanding force. He straightens, turning to face you fully, his brow furrowed in something between concern and annoyance. "You will cease this insufferable arguing. I am your husband and your king- my decision is final."

The words strike you like a slap. Your king. There it is again—the reminder that you are his subject, not his equal. Your blood runs cold, and the frustration in your chest flares into full-blown fury.

You feel something break within you. It’s not just the sharpness of his words; it’s the way he stands there, resolute, as if his decision is final, as if your feelings—your fears—mean nothing in the face of his kingly duty.

"So be it," you say, your voice suddenly icy, cold as the depths of the sea. "As you wish, my king."

The words are laced with sarcasm, each one sharp as a dagger. You don’t wait for his reply. Turning on your heel, you storm out of the bedroom, the sound of your boots on the stone floor echoing through the empty halls. Behind you, you can hear him calling your name, but you don’t stop. Not this time.

The door to the hallway slams behind you, and the silence that follows feels like the final nail in the coffin of your argument. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to feel this distant, this small. But you can’t help it. You need space. You need to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, the weight of being his wife feels unbearable.

You find yourself in the garden, the place where your heart once swelled with joy and warmth, the place where you first fell in love with Ereinion. It feels different now, though, quieter, colder somehow. The flowers are still vibrant, their colors a burst of life in the autumn chill, but their beauty does nothing to ease the ache in your chest.

You sit on the stone bench, the moss cool beneath your fingertips, and you stare at the fountain before you. The sound of the water is soothing, but it does little to drown out the thoughts tumbling through your mind. You were certain Ereinion would come. It’s not like him to leave things unresolved between you. He would speak softly, as he always did, his voice warm and apologetic, the same way he had when the two of you disagreed before. But this time feels different. This time, it feels like the distance between you is growing, like the space between his heart and yours is widening beyond repair.

As you sit there, lost in the quiet peace of the garden, memories flood your mind—the first time you walked here together, the first time he kissed you under the boughs of the great oak tree, the way his eyes had softened with love and admiration. This had been the place where you felt most at home with him, the place where you could see the future together, side by side, your lives intertwined.

But now, there is no future, only the present, and the sting of his departure.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. He will come, you tell yourself. He’s just giving you time to cool down. He will wish to apologize. It’s not like him to hold on to anger. You wait.

Minutes pass. An hour. Still nothing.

The sound of distant horns reaches your ears, and your heart skips a beat. The familiar call of the Noldorin horns—the same horns that have announced Ereinion’s victories, his triumphs, his rule. But this time, the sound is different. It’s sharp, urgent, a signal of departure. Your stomach tightens.

You stand quickly, the cold air biting at your skin, and look toward the city gates. There, in the distance, you see the silhouettes of mounted riders. You can feel your pulse quicken as realization settles in.

He is leaving. Without you. Without a word. Without a single look back.

Your breath catches in your throat as your heart breaks all over again. The garden, once a place of shared joy, now feels like a prison, the walls closing in around you. How could he do this? How could he leave for Eregion, to ride to battle, to risk everything—including his life—without so much as a goodbye?

You walk toward the edge of the garden, your legs trembling with a mixture of rage and disbelief. You want to call out to him, to shout, to demand an answer. You want him to turn around, to stop, to come back. But your voice is caught in your throat, and all you can do is watch as the king of the Noldor, your husband, rides away toward war.

The gates loom before you, the sound of the horns growing louder, more insistent. Every step feels like an eternity, and yet you remain rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe. You don’t understand. How could he leave like this? How could he leave you behind so coldly, so abruptly?

The sight of his figure—his back to you, his head held high—only makes the pain in your chest worse. It’s not just the war he’s riding to; it’s the war between you two, the widening gulf of silence between your hearts.

You turn away, unable to watch any longer, unable to stay in the place where love once flourished. But in your heart, a whisper lingers: This is not the end. This cannot be the end.

The silence in your chambers is deafening as you stand before the mirror, your fingers running over the fabric of your gown. The anger you felt earlier has settled into something darker, something more resolute. The words he left you with echo in your mind—his command that you obey him, as his queen, as his subject. You can still feel the sting of it, the way he treated you like one of his soldiers, to be ordered and commanded. But no more.

You won’t sit idly by while the distance between you grows, while he rides off to risk his life in a war that feels so distant from the love you once shared. You won’t be relegated to the sidelines of his life, merely the queen to be left behind.

Your hand tightens into a fist, and a fire burns in your chest, filling you with resolve. I will not let this be the end, you think. I will not let him slip away from me so easily.

You turn swiftly, crossing the room to your advisors’ waiting presence. The doors open with a creak as you step into the hall, their startled faces awaiting you.

“My queen,” one of them stammers, his expression a mix of concern and confusion, “is there something we can do for you?”

You don’t waste time with pleasantries. “I will be accompanying the battalion to Eriador.”

The words drop like stones into the room, and the silence that follows is heavy. Your advisors exchange quick, frantic glances, unsure whether they’ve heard you correctly.

“You wish to… ride with the soldiers?” another asks, his voice thick with disbelief.

“I will ride with the soldiers,” you correct, your voice steady, unwavering. “There is something I must remind him of before he throws that pig headed brain of his into battle.”

The advisors are flustered, caught off guard by your harsh judgement of the king. One steps forward, looking at you with a mix of hesitation and concern. “My queen, surely this is not the time for you to be—”

“I have made my decision,” you cut him off, your tone final. “Prepare my things.”

As they scramble to gather your belongings, you move with purpose, gathering the essentials you need. You feel their eyes on you, but you don’t falter. This is not a decision you’ll regret. No, this is the beginning of something you’ve needed to do for far too long—reclaim your place at Ereinion’s side, no matter how far he tries to distance himself from you.

The day passes quickly as you mount your white mare, the familiar weight of the saddle beneath you grounding you in your decision. The battalion is still some distance ahead, but you ride fast, not caring about the time or the consequences. You need to catch up with him, you need to remind him that you are his queen—and his wife.

The sun dips below the horizon, leaving a cool mist in the air, as you finally make it to the battalion's camp. The soldiers are already setting up for the night, their fires flickering in the growing darkness. The camp is bustling with activity, but it all comes to a halt when your mare’s hooves strike the earth, the sound of your arrival piercing the air.

A soldier, noticing your approach, stops in his tracks. Recognition flashes across his face, and before you can even dismount, he rushes toward you. His steps quicken, and his expression morphs into one of concern.

“My queen,” he says breathlessly, bowing low before you. “What brings you here? Is something wrong? The king…” He hesitates, glancing back toward the far end of the camp where the king’s tent is pitched.

You pause, your gaze steady, and give him a small, composed smile, though it’s edged with a hint of something sharper, more urgent. “The king left something at home,” you say, your voice calm but with an unspoken weight. “And it is of great importance that I deliver it to him.”

The soldier’s brows furrow, and he hesitates for just a moment, but seeing your resolve, he nods. “Of course, my queen. Please, follow me. The king will be glad to see you.”

He leads you through the camp, the sounds of soldiers murmuring and the crackling of the fires echoing around you, but all you can focus on is the path ahead. Your heart beats in your chest, each step bringing you closer to him. The distance between you has already stretched too far, and now, in this moment, you’re closing that gap—you will not let him go without a fight.

As you approach the tent, the soldier opens the flaps for you, allowing you to step inside.

And there, seated at the table in the dim light of a lantern, is Ereinion Gil-galad. His back is to you, and for a moment, you simply watch him, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the firelight. He doesn’t hear you enter at first, but then, as if sensing your presence, he turns, and his eyes lock with yours.

You don’t speak at first, simply meeting his gaze, holding it, as if trying to gauge his reaction, his thoughts.

It’s him. Your husband. The man who has held your heart, the man who you refused to let go, no matter how far he pushed.

And now, you will remind him that he is not alone in this.

The flap of the tent rustles gently as you step inside, your eyes never leaving Ereinion as you close the distance between you. He rises from his seat immediately, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, but it quickly hardens into something unreadable as he meets your gaze. For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The crackling of the fire behind him is the only sound, the warmth from it flickering across the shadows of his face.

You stand before him, your heart pounding in your chest, and the words you’ve rehearsed feel like foreign syllables on your tongue. It’s not just the anger, the frustration, that you need to voice—but something deeper, something you’ve been holding inside for far too long.

“You left something at home,” you finally say, your voice steady but laced with the weight of everything unsaid between you.

His brow furrows, confusion crossing his expression. “What do you mean?” He glances around the tent, as though expecting something physical, something tangible. “I have everything I need.”

You take a deep breath, letting the silence stretch between you. It’s not just an object or a letter you’ve come to bring him; it’s something far more vital. You hold his gaze, locking eyes with him, and the truth spills from you.

“Your wife,” you answer simply, your tone laced with quiet intensity.

Ereinion’s expression shifts, a flicker of guilt quickly masked by his usual composure. He’s clearly taken aback by your declaration, but there’s no room for misinterpretation. You’ve made your point.

For a moment, there’s only silence again. Ereinion remains still, as though trying to decide what to say, what to do next. His features soften, but his voice remains firm. “I did not want to drag you into this, my love. I thought it would be safer for you at home, away from the dangers that lie ahead. The fight in Eregion will be long and perilous, I would not place you in the way of the sword.”

You shake your head, the swell of emotions rising inside you, sharper than ever. You step closer to him, closing the space between you until your words are only for him to hear.

“I understand your reasoning,” you say quietly, your voice steady but laced with the rawness of your vulnerability. “I understand that you must join the fight for Eregion. But I was afraid, Ereinion. Afraid that I would lose you, and you wouldn’t even listen to my fears. But it’s not just about fear. It’s about us.”

He watches you, his eyes searching yours, waiting for you to continue.

“You are not alone in this fight,” you continue, your voice more insistent now. “We are bound together, Ereinion. You cannot carry the weight of this war alone, nor should you. I know you are a king, and I respect that. But you are my husband, and that bond is not just some fleeting promise. We share everything, you and I—the joys, the hurts, the fears. We must face all of it together. This war, these dangers… they will not tear us apart. They cannot.”

Your voice cracks with the weight of what you’re about to say, but you push through. “If you fight in Eregion, then I will fight beside you. Not because I want to, but because I must. That is my place, Ereinion. At your side.”

Ereinion is silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze softens as if the realization of your words is beginning to settle deep within him. He steps closer, his gaze dropping briefly before lifting again to meet yours. There is a storm of emotions behind his eyes—guilt, love, regret—and something else, something he had not expected.

“Eregion is close to falling—” he starts, his voice thick with hesitation, as though weighing the consequences of what you’re offering.

“I know the risks,” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “I know the dangers, and yes, I am afraid. But this is our battle now, Ereinion. You are not the king alone. You are the king, yes, but you are also my husband. I cannot, in good conscience, stay behind when I know I can stand beside you. We are stronger together. We always have been.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, his features caught in something between awe and disbelief. Slowly, he closes the space between you, his hands reaching for yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“I never wanted to pull you into this, to make you part of this war,” he says softly, his voice rough, filled with emotion. “But I see now that you are already part of it, as you always have been. I don’t want to lose you—not to the war, not to anything. But I cannot turn you away.”

You place your hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, as if reminding yourself that he is here, with you. Together. 

“I’m not asking for permission, Ereinion,” you whisper, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the heaviness in your heart. “I’m telling you. This is my place. By your side.”

His hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks as he leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours. There is no more distance between you—not in this moment, not in this space. His voice is soft, filled with the weight of all that’s been left unsaid.

“You are my strength,” he murmurs, the words a quiet promise in the stillness of the night. “If you are truly willing to fight, then I will not ask you to stay behind. We will face this war as we have always faced life—together.”

A deep sense of relief washes over you as you close your eyes, leaning into the warmth of his embrace. The battle ahead will be long, and it will test both of you in ways you cannot yet understand. But one thing is certain: you will face it as one. Together, as it was always meant to be.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Tw child abuse

Concept: Atsushi doesn’t leave the Orphanage unscathed (combined with my headcanon that Atsushi’s weakness is fire.)

The Headmasters ire was never not aimed at Atsushi. But on that final day it felt demonic. He ran but two other staff members held him in place.

Through every punch.

Every kick to his frail broken body.

Atsushi thinks he passed out when the hot poker seared his flesh. But all he can recall from that were the sound of his own own screams.

Just as Atsushi thought he was going to die he was tossed out into the freezing night.

He was no stranger to the cold. To the pain that had become his only companion in life. But this was unbearable. Yet he gritted his teeth and crawled away from the closed gates.

His clothes were shredded from age and being torn apart into makeshift bandages. Atsushi didn’t really know how to tend to wounds, especially burns as severe as these.

It’s not like he’d ever been worth wasting medical supplies over.

Hunger was another old friend that joined him on the way. It probably sounded weird that Atsushi was grateful for it. It kept his mind off the scars that scattered across his body.

How they burned no matter how cold he was.

The tiger popped around days later and Atsushi wondered if being eaten would hurt any less.

Atsushi wasn’t really paying attention to the bandaged man’s…Dazai’s words. The cold water felt like both a blessing a curse. He contemplated jumping back in. But the evenings chill would get him if he tried.

Dazai frowned, noticing something amiss but figured it was simply Atsushi’s hunger. And yet that unease didn’t fade once Atsushi had eaten more then a few bowls of chazuke.

The relief at being full was quickly overtaken by the pain. Because now it was front and centre in Atsushi’s mind. He wasn’t listening to Dazai and Kunikida, not really.

He got up to leave and cried out when Kunikida lifted him up. For the action caused his charred shirt to rise up and rub against the burns on his stomach.

Kunikida let him go, concern flashing in his eyes as he wordlessly turned to his partner. Checking that Dazai had seen it too, which he had now.

The little bit of damage they’d manage to see was horrific. The fact Atsushi wasn’t on the ground crying in agony told them, along with the holes in his story that he was gifted.

Because no average person could survive such wounds.

Dazai jumped as the tiger leaped at him. Nullifying the ability but not before making a mental note of the patches of damaged fur.

He caught Atsushi and gently laid him on the ground. Just as Kunikida walked in closely followed by Yosano. Atsushi awoke soon enough, taking the new information about as well as one could.

And then… “Atsushi, are you hurt?” Atsushi not so subtly shrank back at the question. “It’s fine” came the immediate response.

Yosano gave Dazai and Kunikida a look and without a word both got up and left. Standing out by the door just incase.

“You’re not in any trouble.” The disbelief on his face made her both mad and sad. She’d seen to many with such an expression and it never got easier.

From the brief talk with Kunikida she could tell was Atsushi a person that assumed everything was his fault. It was probably why he got hurt to begin with. As some sort of twisted punishment.

She couldn’t wait to show those people something truly twisted.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” The honesty might’ve been why Atsushi hesitantly rolled up his shirt. Yosano didn’t let her anger show and instead focused on inspect the wounds after gaining Atsushi’s consent.

Her touch was feather light and he slowly began to explain how he got such injuries to begin with. “You didn’t deserve any of that” she hoped one day he’d believe her. For now Yosano was just relieved he’d let her treat his wounds.

Without her gift that is which she wasn’t surprised by but accepted. Atsushi had suffered enough anyway.

Yosano did what she could. Kunikida used his ability to conjure up any equipment she didn’t have on hand. While Dazai sat by Atsushi’s side and regaled him in the most ridiculous tales as he laid in their infirmary.

Atsushi should’ve been admitted to the hospital but with the bounty there was no chance of that happening. He was afraid but he seemed to have done trust in them. Which after all he’d been through was a miracle in enough itself.

His burns were severe and he’d developed a fever but Atsushi would heal. It would take a lot of work, regular check ups and salves but slowly but surely he would heal. Hopefully it wouldn’t just be his injuries.

“So he’s joining us right?” Asked Yosano, stepping out to the main office. It was only the three of them here at this hour. “Yup” said Dazai and though Kunikida looked sceptical he nodded.

“Alright, but we’ll have to post pone the entrance exam and we’ll need to ensure his health is a priority during his time with us” and on Kunikuda rambled because he’d already grown fond over Atsushi.

The other two teased Kunikida as they made a scheduleso that someone would be with Atsushi throughout the night. Checking up on him and making very elaborate revenge plots against his orphanage.

Atsushi was one of theres they just needed to make it official.

[ask-the-koopa-family]

I love writing little storiiiiies

Heres a story where Bowser and Cherry decide to have a baby together (Cleo of course!)

Art/OC/story are mine dont copy/repost

#story

#supermariobros

#supermario

#bowser

#bowserxoc

#canonxoc

#princesscherry

The sun was setting over Bowser’s castle, casting a warm, golden glow on the stone walls. In the great throne room, Bowser sat, deep in thought. Beside him, his wife, Queen Cherry—once the Princess of the Piranha Plants—watched him in silence. They had known each other since childhood, lost touch over the years, but fate had brought them back together. Now, they were married, ruling the Koopa Kingdom side by side.

Together, they were raising Bowser Jr. and the seven Koopalings, forming a large, chaotic family. But there was something on Cherry’s mind, something she had been thinking about for a while, and tonight, she knew it was time to talk to Bowser about it.

Cherry (walking up to Bowser gently):

"Bowser… Can we talk? I need to ask you something important."

Bowser (looking up, smiling softly):

"Of course, my queen. What’s on your mind?"

Cherry took a deep breath, knowing the weight of her words. She loved Bowser deeply, and while their family was already big, there was a longing in her heart she couldn’t ignore any longer.

Cherry (her voice soft but steady):

"We already have a wonderful family, with Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings. I love them dearly, but…" (she paused for a moment, gathering her courage)

"I’ve been thinking... I’d like for us to have a child together. A baby of our own."

The room fell silent. Bowser, clearly taken aback, blinked at her in surprise. He sat up straight, his massive form looming in the warm light of the evening.

Bowser (smiling hesitantly):

"A baby… with you? Hmm…" (he thought for a moment)

"That’s… a big decision. We already have eight kids to handle, and... it’s not always easy." (a grin spread across his face)

"But... the idea of having a child with you, Cherry..."

"It makes me happy."

Cherry (smiling tenderly):

"So… you’d be okay with it?"

Bowser (nodding but with a hint of worry in his voice):

"I’d be more than okay with it. I’ve already raised eight kids, and I’m proud of them. But…" (he looked at her seriously)

"There’s something that concerns me. You’re human, and I’m a Koopa. What would our baby even look like? Would it… even work?"

Cherry could hear the hesitation in his voice. She moved closer to him, placing her hand gently on his, her eyes full of reassurance.

Cherry (speaking softly):

"I guess.. youre right.. But.. It doesn’t matter what they’ll look like. They’ll be unique, Bowser. A part of both of us. They won’t have to choose between being human or Koopa—they’ll be both. And that’s beautiful."

Bowser (sighing but smiling slightly):

"That’s true. The Koopalings are all different, and yet they’re united." (he scratched his head, still thinking)

"But what if they feel... out of place? Caught between two worlds? I don’t want our child to suffer because of who they are."

Cherry (shaking her head gently):

"They’ll never be alone, Bowser. They’ll have you, me, and their brothers and sisters to help them. And if they ever feel different, we’ll be there to show them they belong. I believe they’ll be stronger than we can imagine."

Bowser pondered her words. He had spent his life proving his strength, fighting for his kingdom, and protecting his family. The idea of a child, one born out of his love for Cherry, began to seem less daunting and more exciting.

Bowser (smiling more confidently):

"You know what? You’re right. This baby would be special. A mix of strength, love, and all the lessons we’ll teach them." (he chuckled)

"And with a family like ours around them, I’m sure they’ll be able to handle anything."

Cherry (laughing softly, feeling reassured):

"Exactly. Imagine a little one with your strength and courage, and maybe a bit of my..." (she laughed)

"Patience to balance things out."

Bowser (letting out a hearty laugh):

"Ha! That would be one formidable kid! That little one would probably have more energy than all the kids combined." (then, more seriously)

"But I’m ready. If that’s what you want, then I want it too. I’m ready to be a father again, and this time, to a child that’s truly ours."

Cherry felt her heart swell with relief. She had known Bowser would have his doubts, but she also knew that, in the end, he would embrace the idea. They had overcome so many challenges together, and this new adventure would be one of the most beautiful ones yet.

Cherry (hugging him warmly):

"Thank you, Bowser. I know this baby will be our greatest adventure."

Bowser (holding her close):

"Yes, an adventure that will change everything. And I’m ready to face it with you, Cherry. No matter what they look like, this baby will be our heir. The heir of two worlds."

They stayed like that, embraced in the soft glow of the fading sun, ready to embark on this new chapter in their lives. Together, Bowser and Cherry were sure they could face whatever challenges came their way, bound by their love and the future they were about to build for their family.

[ikkan]

of course my mom is trying to guilt me into staying, by using her tears 😑

[pwurrz]

being obsessed with yakumo is a job and baby i’ve never called in a sick day!!!!!

[laniidae-passerine]

Honestly I think Dean Highbottom has some shit to answer to as well. The mockery, the derision, the outright admittance that he was hoping Coriolanus would fail and the Snow family would continue to suffer. How someone who loathed the Games still treated a young man with cruelty because of the past, because of social divides that would be so easy to tear down. In the end, it wasn’t just Gaul who shaped Snow into the man he became. So bitter and hateful. So incapable of compassion and forgiveness. Just like his father. Just like his Dean.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Spoke to someone I don’t know over the phone, 11 dead, 32 injured

[meggie-moo]

i’m rewatching yona of the dawn for the first time since i was like 12 (i used to keep up with the manga, but gave up when i was like 14/maybe 15 😭), and i fear the brain rot is coming back

[puppyypawsss]

It’s really fun and really cool when ur mom dismisses ur anxiety and makes u feel stupid and crazy and AAUUUHHVGBHHH.

[chuluoyi]

Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」

aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“bwah!” a nudge.

“myah!” a shove.

and then—

“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.

“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.

and it was the baby—his baby.

your giggles filled the air in response.

“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”

the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.

you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”

a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”

“heav—pfft—”

“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”

“wha—no! that’s team effort!”

“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.

“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”

“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”

“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”

“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”

“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”

later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”

satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.

knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.

you really do love him, don’t you?

“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.

“satoru.”

“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—

you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”

“…?!”

for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.

“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.

“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”

. . .

safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.

[luveline]

I wanted to know how Aaron Hotchner would react to discovering the existence of a daughter (something from college perhaps), she would be his copy both in appearance and personality

—Hotch has a surprise visitor and the world spins on a new axis. daughter!reader, 2.2k

readers physical traits like hair and skin colour are not mentioned, but she is described as looking like her mother (also not described) and as sharing some characteristics with Hotch!<3 I also altered canon so that Hotch and Haley take a break at college 

“There is a kid in your office.” 

“Morgan?” 

Hotch pulls his phone away to check. D. Morgan blinks on his phone screen. It’s a slightly absurd sentence. 

“There’s a child in my office?” he asks, returning the phone to his ear. 

“I’m standing with her right now. She won’t tell me who she is. Anderson let her in.” 

“How old?” Hotch asks, scratching his cheek. God forbid he steal two minutes of peace in the bathroom. 

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m twenty two,” a feminine voice says. 

“You said kid,” Hotch says, frowning. 

“Anyone under twenty five is a kid to me. Are you on your way?” 

He sighs. “Yeah,” he says, and hangs up, dropping the small body of his phone into his pocket. Twenty two isn’t a kid, it’s a year younger than Spencer was when he started at the BAU; Hotch doesn’t underestimate the intelligence of young adults. Why you’re in his office is another thing. He can’t have one day without inconvenience. 

Hotch makes his way into the BAU office and up the stairs to the half level where his own office resides. Morgan leans against the door with his arms crossed, standing to attention when Hotch passes. 

“Thanks, Morgan,” Hotch says. 

Morgan nods, sending a curious gaze at you before he leaves. 

You’re dressed very formally for someone your age, but it’s not as though this is different from the norm of the building. You have on a dark shirt with a starched collar and a fitted blazer, a crisp skirt, and leather Mary Jane heels, one pressed flat to the back of the other. 

You stand when he comes in. 

“Mr. Hotchner?” you ask. 

“Yes?” he asks. 

You have a small file in your hand. Paper with worn edges pokes out of one side as though you’d been looking through it and put it hastily away, and the Manila file itself is fresh.

“Do we know one another?” he asks. 

You look familiar. It’s possible he would’ve known your parents —it could make sense. A colleague or acquaintance assumed he could help you with something, and you in your naivety you made your way in. 

“I think you know my mother.” 

“And she was?” he prompts. Not impolite, but needing to move forward. He’s very busy. 

You take a small step back. “Mr. Hotchner,” you say again, something nervous in your eyes as you lift your chin, “I don’t want to waste your time. I’m aware I might sound foolish, or that this… might not be something you want to hear, but. My mother told me you met in college, and that…” 

You bite your lip. 

He’s incredibly confused now. Not one to let a stranger suffer whether in real pain or awkwardness, he opens his hand. “Can I?” 

“Yes, sir,” you say.

You don’t want to pass it over, but you do as he’s asked. 

The photograph is a shock, held with a paperclip to a magnolia sheet of paper. It’s of Hotch, undoubtedly, a much younger Hotch sitting on a bench with a woman he recognises immediately. He only looks at her, and he knows why you’re here, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

“Do you remember her?” you ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

“She says you’re the only man that could… possibly be my father.” You hold your hands behind your back. 

He lifts the photograph. There’s not much else to look at, only your photo ID, your birth certificate where he is glaringly not listed, as well as your mother’s birth certificate, and proof of her enrollment at George Washington University. 

You look a little teary. Trying very hard to be sober, as you have been since he laid eyes on you, but clearly getting more and more upset as time goes on. He’s feeling a similar ache, a searing pain in his chest, staring at you from over the Manila folder to really, really look at you. He swears he can see something of himself in your face, though he’s not sure what. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking. 

There’s certainly some of him in your frown. 

“I think you should sit down,” he says softly. 

You sit down immediately in the chair you’d inhabited a few minutes ago. 

He’s not sure what to say. Are you sure it could only be him? Is your mother? But you’re looking at him with an expression he practically trademarked, whether he wanted to or not, and the proof is in his hands: you’re your mother’s daughter, and Hotch would have slept with her almost twenty three years ago. He doesn’t need much time to do the math. 

“I realise my word alone isn’t a lot to go on, sir, so– so if you’d want to, I’ll of course submit for a paternity test. Or if you want nothing to do with me, that’s okay too.” 

“It’s not okay,” he says, closing your folder. 

Your eyes widen just a touch. 

“Can I sit with you?” he asks. 

You push your chair back to make lots of room. He sits in the chair besides yours, cautious that being across a desk from you is insensitive, or cold, at least. 

He looks at you and he’s sure that you’re his. The longer you sit there, the more sure he becomes.

“I do want a paternity test,” he says, watching your tight nod. 

He believes you. And truly, if he was unsure of what you’re saying he’d still give you grace now, because the first time you meet your father should be full of love. He should’ve been there to hold you in one arm twenty two years ago, he should’ve been there for you through everything he’s already missed. 

“But I believe you,” he says.

“You do?” 

“I’m a very good judge of character. I know that you believe what you’re telling me completely,” he says.

“How?”

“When you’re nervous your hand drifts to your chest, but you didn’t move when you suggested I’m your father. You haven’t once checked the door or looked toward the camera in the corner of the room.” And the full truth. “I want to believe you.” 

“Why?” you ask.

“You look like your mother, but…” He lets himself smile. “You sound like me.” 

You laugh under your breath. “Hopefully not so deep.” 

“I’ve had it described to me as mellifluous.” 

“I’ve wanted to hear your voice since I can remember. My mom didn’t talk about you much, but I’ve always wondered. She told me she didn’t know who you were, and…”

“And you believed her. Any child would do the same.” 

“She’s made mistakes.” You look to him with eyebrows gently pinched, asking him to understand. “But I looked you up. When she told me your name, I looked for you online, and… I always thought I never needed you, even if I wanted to know you. I thought you might want to know me. I thought that a man like you would want to know.”

There’s something you’re not saying. Hotch doesn’t mind. “Of course I want to know you.” 

You chance a smile at him. “You really believe me?” 

“You were expecting me to turn you away.” 

“No, just– I’m not a kid, even if your colleague said so. And I’m not an image of you, I don’t have your eyes. All I have is that photograph. There's not much evidence to go on.” 

He sees no reason why a young girl like you would walk into his office and tell him who you are. Self preservation insists on a paternity test, and soon —UnSubs haven’t ever done something so conniving as imitating a family member yet, but there’s no prediction for evil— but Hotch has an inherent sense of the truth.  

“What do you do?” he asks. 

You frown. “Sorry?” 

“What do you do?” he asks again, “You’re dressed like a lawyer.” 

You nod with a smile you’re pushing into a flat line unsuccessfully. “I’m at GWU. For law, like you and my mom.” 

“She only just told you who I am?” He speaks each word carefully. 

“The photo fell out of an old album, and I had a funny feeling. I asked her about it and she said I’m too much like you. She admitted it like the secret had been eating her alive.” You look at your hand on the armrest. “We aren’t getting along right now.” 

“I don’t know why she wouldn’t tell you. Or me,” he says honestly. 

“I don’t know either.” 

Hotch is expecting a lot more awkwardness than he feels as he puts his hand over yours. You stay very still. 

“Thank you for coming here today.” He gives your hand the barest squeeze and stands. “Have you eaten? I could take you out for dinner,” he suggests. 

You stand with him. “Are you serious?” you ask, gentle and pleased at once. 

“I think you have a lot to tell me, and I’d love to listen.” 

“You’re not working?” 

Sometimes, sometimes, there are things that can be worked around or held on the back burner. You and Hotch go for lunch. 

—

Aaron Hotchner knows many important people. Your paternity test takes a day, less than twenty four hours from the time you both submit samples, but you have a class you can’t miss and he’s sure you’re nervous, so you don’t meet again for two days regardless. By then, you both know the results. (And Aaron’s had to have a very strange conversation with his wife, in which she doesn’t believe him, and then has to sit down.) 

He can admit to being far more protective of you once he knows the truth for sure, though he knows it before the results come back. You’re his daughter, and he’s left you without a father for two decades of your life, your formative years, time he can never get back. 

He doesn’t even know what to do. How can he make up for it? Twenty two years of birthday cards? He feels like buying you a diamond necklace with a stone for each year, and then he wants to buy you a house, but mostly he wants to give you a hug. He thinks about it for so long the morning before he’s scheduled to meet you again that it makes him as upset as he’s ever been in his life, desperate to say sorry to you and your mother and furious with her for keeping you a secret. 

He thinks of all those years without an inkling of your existence, and now you’re the only thing he can think about. His remorse makes him sick. 

You’re smiling when you see him. For a millisecond, you look like Jack. 

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner!” you say, standing from the table, your formal dress and cardigan pressed neatly, your hands held behind your back.

‘Mr. Hotchner’ will need to be fixed quickly, though he won’t force you to call him anything else. He can’t help himself, however.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. 

You pause, and you laugh. “This is weird.” 

He doesn’t mean to make it weirder, but he opens his arms, and he waits for an indication that you might not want a hug before he leans in to hold you. You’re still so young. There’s still time for him to be a good father to you. 

He can’t say everything he needs to in his hug, and at the end of the day he’s a stranger to you; you probably don’t want him to hug you for too long. But he rubs your back, and he promises himself that he won’t let you down twice.

Your arm curls tentatively behind his back. For a second, you press your face to his shoulder and breathe. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away. 

Your lip twitches to one side like his would when presented with such heavy sincerity. “I’m okay. How did, um, Haley take the news?” 

“She just wants to meet you, okay? You’re part of my family now.” 

You give no indication you’ve heard what it is he’s saying to you, or whether you like it as you sit down at the dinner table. He quite likes that some way, somehow, you’ve become like him, but he wonders if he might not love it so much when he asks how your mom is taking this new development and you just smile. 

“We’re going to tell Jack about everything this weekend,” he adds. “He’ll be excited, if no one else.” 

“And Haley doesn’t mind?” 

“She’s not going to ask you to babysit anytime soon, honey, but no, of course she doesn’t. He should meet his sister before she’s too old for legos.” 

You actually laugh. 

Dad humour transcends age, and for that, Hotch is grateful. 

—

only after I finished did I wonder if I misinterpreted the request and this was supposed to be x reader with a shared daughter so if that’s the case I’m sorry original requester!! and I can totally write that if that’s what you meant 🫶❤️

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human

In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around. 

“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”

“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”

“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”

“I..see.”

It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question. 

“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”

“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”

“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”

“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”

It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying. 

“Waaaaa!”

It sounds like a child���which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.

“Waaaa!”

It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon. 

“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”

Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out. 

“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”

The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.

“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”

You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom. 

Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.

“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”

“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”

“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”

“Thanks!” 

“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”

“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”

That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in. 

“More! More!”

“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”

“Whyyyy!?”

“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”

“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”

Creak.

“Titan who is this?”

The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed. 

“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”

“For what?!”

“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”

As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow. 

“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”

“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”

“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”

His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, anytime!”

With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.

“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home. 

“You promise?”

“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”

“Just not now?”

“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”

Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent. 

“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”

“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”

“Through your doggy door!”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Now you do!”

Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent. 

“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”

“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”

“So we figured why not now!”

“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”

“I mean I guess-?”

“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”

“Yes’m!” “Yes’m

The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection. 

“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”

“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”

His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”

“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”

“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”

His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”

With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.

“Back off my human!”

After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.

“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”

Part 2: It's Here!

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[qurbanjaan]

My experience and personal view on veiling as someone who grew up under a Burqa

When I was born, my father didn’t want me because I was a girl. When a girl is born, she isn’t cherished like a boy. Your life is received as a deadweight (note: I’m not saying this is something that happens every single time, just most of them) and a disappointment by the family. When your first breath comes in, the honor is on your shoulders.

My parents were so disappointed they gave me up to my aunt and uncle until I was one year old. When I was three, my father tried to sell/promise me into marriage. My grandmother, his mother, was the one who intervened and stopped him from doing it.

As I grew up, I noticed clear differences between me and girls from less conservative families, but everything was relatively normal until I hit nine years old. When it happened, I suddenly stopped traveling with my parents, stopped being able to leave the curtains open, couldn’t wear the clothes I used to wear even though I was still a child… as I grew older and older, the restrictions increased as my uncle and my father said I was becoming a beautiful woman and “I would be a problem for their family”.

Then, when I noticed, I wasn’t allowed to appear on windows, get packages from the mailman, go out in the yard, have a phone, stay alone in my room, talk to men (even if it was something as trivial as buying groceries), going out alone, needing to looking down when men walk past you, stay in your room when there’s visitors and don’t make a noise so they can’t hear you, not speak too loudly either, not share your name… the list is endless.

And, when you grow up inside a such conservative, traditional and religious family, your only future is disappearing. Along with having no voice and no face, servitude is as inescapable as death.

When you’re under a piece of cloth, you become faceless, you have no identity of your own. Outside the house, you’re a ghost. Inside the house, you’re a servant. You have no choice over yourself. This is your identity, a servant ghost who’s screams people pretend not to hear.

To a certain level, when you try to reflect on it, the veiling can be comforting. Being invisible can be comforting, no one sees you, you don’t need to worry about a thing. You can hide all your thoughts and most shameful actions from the daylight and no one is going to find out about them. But, when you are under the veil, your identity becomes something only you know about. To the rest of the world, you don’t exist, you’re not human. The veil will slowly dehumanize you, you will start fading away and there’s nothing you can do about it because how can someone attribute a face to a piece of fabric with a mesh on eye level?

And don’t fool yourself, the longer you keep your veil on, the harder the expectations will be. You may only need to cover now, but in some time, they will ask you why are your toes showing and why are you not hiding your hands behind the veil too, and why are you even outside your house? You should be home, protecting your family’s honor, you’re disgracing your family, go home.

And you may think “I’m invisible to the outside world but in my house I’m irreplaceable”, are you? How irreplaceable will you be when a younger, better wife comes in and the only safety you may have is the idea that your children will grow up to take care of you? How would someone possibly feel bad for you when you are nothing but a black trashbag? If you become a beggar, how will they see the suffering on your face if it will be covered and hidden away from the world?

I can’t be hypocritical and say that I don’t feel a sense of security under the veil, but it’s a false sense of security. When the time for your death comes, you won’t have your name on your grave, you won’t have a face. All you will ever have been is a servant, invisible to the outside world, with no God above to wonder “what about her?”. How dear are you inside those walls?

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim: Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim: You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie: It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie: I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie: Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

---------------------------------------------

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

---------------------------------------

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

---------------------------------------

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1