#what with all the moving across the country and struggling to stay in a job and all

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[pumpkinhorror]

creeping towards a panic attack about the most ridiculous shit. “oough i’m going to be jobless next week and homeless in august” my brother in christ what are you talking about

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 188 }

wrapped around your finger.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

warnings: currently unedited; alcohol mention.

dedicated tags: @luneariaa since she adores kenji sato 🥰

{ you keep me wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | i was caught up in your orbit | spinnin' like a bullet | i was wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | then i shot back down to earth… }

there was a boredom felt coursing through your veins, and despite how you were living in a country where superheroes and monsters existed, it wasn’t enough to spice up your lackluster life (unless you counted running for your life when these said monsters appeared, but you digress).

you were a young woman living in the heart of tokyo, working a simple 9 to 5 job as you came home to your cozy, one bedroom apartment. it was a mundane life, filled with your usual routine-

but every once in a while, when a giant kaiju was seen within your city, your life would take a turn for the worse as you had to run to avoid any collateral damage caused by ultraman and his less than savvy way of defending the country.

you had no idea what had happened to the beloved hero. one moment, he was as competent as can be, always successfully leading the kaijus safely out of the city with minimal effort-

and the next, ultraman would actively be struggling to defend the city from these attacks, more often than not causing the k.d.f. to enter the scene and clean up the mess made by the struggling ‘superhero.’

on several occasions, you considered leaving the country of japan to move to a more peaceful part of the world void of any kaiju attacks, but with how badly the current ultraman was doing, (and knowing your luck), the monsters would probably end up invading all parts of the world.

so, you decided to save yourself the hassle and simply stayed in tokyo.

currently, you were eating a simple meal of cup noodles, seeing the time read 8:16pm. while slurping up your noodles, you kept changing the channels on your t.v., the boredom felt seeping into your very soul as it made you a bit listless. a yawn escapes from your parted lips, with tears felt running down your cheeks. letting out an annoyed grunt, you slam down your half eaten cup of instant noodles, your gaze burning with a strange determination to finally get out of your apartment.

"how pathetic can i be, anyways? it's a friday night, and i'm here eating instant ramen like a loser."

you grumble while speaking to yourself, heading into your room to find a cute outfit to wear before heading out. the night seemed calm, with zero monster attacks, and with the lack of monster attacks meant that you wouldn't be witnessing the pure incompetence of ultraman.

when you were dressed cutely while wearing a light sheen of makeup, you grabbed your purse and placed the essentials within it: your keys, cellphone, and wallet. ready to have the absolute night of your life, you finally left the confines of your apartment after what felt like centuries.

the warm, spring air brought the scent of cherry blossoms as you walked with a bounce in your step across the sidewalk. you weighed your options of what you could do tonight, yet ultimately settled on getting some drinks at a bar somewhere. and who knows? maybe you'll attract some guy and have him pay for all your drinks the whole night. it's not like you had work the next day, so you were going to let loose tonight and allow yourself to enjoy whatever the night had to offer.

you enter the first bar that you saw, walking in with a smile on your face as you slide towards a free space seen on the counter. the bartender greets you with a nod while asking for what you'd like. you tell him your favorite drink, and before you could say anything else, you were aware of a tall man that stands beside you, sliding what appeared to be his sleek black credit card across the marble counter.

"put it on my tab, i'll take care of her."

you could feel your eyebrows raise up in response, meeting the man with the cocky voice as he takes a seat beside you. he was handsome, with ebony locks of hair and matching eyes coupled along with an even cockier smirk.

"what's a cutie like you doing here all alone?" his arrogant tone and manner of speaking was enough to make you want to shut him out, with you grabbing the cold glass of your drink before taking copious gulps from it.

"whoa, sweetheart, you might want to take it easy. don't want you getting sick after one drink."

"i'm sorry, but who the hell are you again?"

your question succeeds in making the gorgeous annoying man do a double take, clearly caught off guard by your question before visibly relaxing once more. a lazy sounding chuckle was heard from him as he extends a hand out to you, "my apologies for being rude, i'm ken sato, but you may also know me as the sole man that will make history in baseball."

you feign disinterest, acting like you had no idea who he was just to knock him down a peg or two. "sorry, i'm not sure who you are. i'm aware of how there are many baseball teams, but your name has never once come up."

ken ends up letting out a painful grunt while dramatically clutching at the front of his chest. "my lady, you wound me."

you hold back the urge to roll your eyes at him, managing to finish your drink as you thanked the bartender for his time before getting out of your seat and away from ken. seeing the way his gaze widens at the sight of your retreating figure, he quickly takes back his card from the bartender before chasing after you.

"oi, don't you think it's a little rude to leave without at least telling me your name?" you purse your lips upon witnessing his persistence, already hearing the smirk in his voice as he catches up to you. due to his long legs, he manages to reach you within seconds, the lazy grin still on his face as he saunters beside you. "come on, babe, don't leave me hanging."

"don't call me babe, sato."

"heh, i won't as long as you give me your name, babe."

you stopped walking, meeting his shit-eating grin as you folded your arms across your chest. letting out a gentle huff, you finally tell him the syllables that made up your name, watching as ken's smile grew even wider, happy that he was victorious.

ken steps closer to you, brushing back a few strands of your hair while repeating your name a few times, as if wishing to taste them against his lips. you felt your eyes go wide when his handsome features lean closer to you-

only to freeze completely when a beeping sound was heard coming from his watch. from your periphery, you saw it glow an almost painful shade of red, nearly blinding you from how bright it was compared to the darkness of the night.

"shit, i gotta go!"

as you were left absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of the street, the sudden roar of a kaiju's cry followed by the brightness of ultraman's suit was what finally broke you out of your reveries as you let out a string of curses while running back home to your apartment.

i should have just stayed home. you thought to yourself in an almost bitter manner, feeling angry when you couldn't seem to get the image of ken's stupidly handsome face from your mind.

{ ... }

it had been a couple of months since your first meeting with the egotistical ken sato, and you were happy to see him get some well deserved karma.

for starters, each time he was in a game with his team, the giants, ken was the one who seemed to struggle the most. (you tell yourself the reason you watched his games was because you wanted to laugh at him, not because you held the tiniest bit of concern for him.)

he still kept up his cocky personality, but you could tell that he was exhausted. the dark circles seen beneath his pale skin became more prominent as his body appeared to be a bit more gaunt than usual. it was obvious that he was losing weight, and you feared for both his physical and mental health.

but truly, regardless of how much concern you had for him, it wasn't like you could just go up to his house and check up on him. since he was technically a celebrity, you were certain that even he had some set amount of boundaries set in place.

in the end, you decided to simply mind your own business, not wishing to disrupt kenji sato's life-

at least, for now.

{ ... }

it was currently your day off, and you had kept your t.v. on to a random channel when you heard the announcement;

"don't change that channel, since after our commercial break, we will head to ms. ami wakita with her first exclusive interview with the star of the giants, kenji sato himself!"

hearing those words makes you stop wiping at your countertops, your head tilted in response to the announcement. admittedly, work and your own personal life had distracted you from keeping up with the news pertaining to ken sato. you had kept the baseball player in the back of your mind, and truly felt curious about this interview.

wiping the slight sweat from your brow with a handkerchief, you let out a sigh before grabbing a bottle of water from your fridge, uncapping it as you nearly drained half of the bottle with your fervent gulps. letting out a sigh of satisfaction, you return to your couch just as the interview between ami wakita and ken began.

to say that you were absolutely shocked upon seeing ken again would be the understatement of the century. not only did he appear better (aside from what you assumed was a broken arm), but there was a kindness seen in his gaze. he spoke softly and respectfully in reply to each and every one of wakita's questions, and you found yourself becoming mesmerized by the tranquility of his voice.

your eyes were glued to the screen of your television, watching ami as she continued along with her interview.

"you've proved the skeptics wrong, brought the team together and rallied the giants to their first championship title in years. that's got to feel good."

"haha, i can't take the credit, it was this team- these guys. i'm just happy to be a part of it."

“earlier, i spoke with shimura who said 'ken sato might be the finest player i have ever coached. he exemplifies what it means to be a giant.'

many critics, including myself, have noticed a change. what do you attribute that to?”

“i wouldn’t be here without my family, simple as that. my dad, mom, they made this possible. i just wish she could be here to see it.”

“i’m sure she’d be proud.” wakita reassures ken with a genuine smile on her face.

ken takes a moment, adjusting himself on his seat before taking out his phone.

“she used to leave these messages, little things to help me get through tough times. mind if i share?”

wakita simply nods in response, allowing ken to press play on his phone as his mother's voice was heard:

"kenji, you're probably not even up yet, but i was thinking about you and i wanted to share a little list of hopes. i hope that you'll give your father a chance. whether you believe it or not he loves you with all his heart. i hope you'll understand us better- understand that we were just trying to prepare you for all the challenges headed your way.

and as time passes, and we fade into memory, i hope that you'll pass some of those memories, some of those lessons along. because in the end, it was all done with love, kiddo. i miss you. see you soon."

your eyes began to water, feeling the tears well up from within them after hearing such a heartfelt message. wishing to pull yourself together, you wipe away at your tears and shut off the television screen. your heart was felt glowing with a strange warmth, recalling ken's kind smile during such a heartfelt interview-

was this the same ken sato you interacted with all those months ago?

no; the pompous ken you had first met was merely a mask he had made for himself. the ken that spoke to wakita- now that was his true self. you were certain of it now.

deep down, you knew that you probably would never see him again, yet still, you couldn't help but feel immensely happy for him. there was a kindness and a light seen in his gaze now, making your prior worries pertaining to him melt away in response.

{ ... }

despite how the kaiju attacks still occurred, the world surrounding you seemed much more peaceful now-

especially since it seemed like ultraman had finally gotten his shit together.

his gigantic form walked with more confidence now, as he was able to send each wandering kaiju back into the depths of the ocean and away from the city of tokyo. his popularity has spiked yet again, especially after his heroic actions seen when he shielded the city from a bomb that was meant to take out what seemed like the entirety of the country.

altogether, you felt considerably safer now while living in this city.

once you clocked out of your job, you figured you could treat yourself to a nice restaurant, searching through your phone for some places nearby. you were so focused on searching for the best restaurant to eat at that you were unaware of the tall man standing in front of you, making your form collide with his as the impact left you gasping a bit.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!"

"heh, don't worry about it, pretty lady."

your eyes go wide, recognizing that casual voice anywhere as you looked up to see a pair of gentle, dark eyes looking down at you. his face was partially covered by a baseball cap, but the way his hair fell across his face (further accentuating his handsome features) was a dead giveaway.

"ken...!"

you had no idea what prompted you to do this, but you couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck. feeling your sudden embrace catches ken off guard as he takes a step back, steadying himself when he wraps an arm around you.

"hey, it's good to see you again, too." a rich chuckle was heard coming from him, and you found yourself trembling in response. hearing him speaking to you so gently now filled you with an inexplicable warmth. recalling his injury, you gasp and take a step back, "i'm so sorry, i forgot about your arm!"

"no worries, look." ken then holds up both of his hands in response, "see? i'm all healed. no harm no foul, really."

you felt the heat dye against your cheeks, clearly flustered now while speaking to this achingly sweet and soft version of ken sato. "t-thank you, really. uhm, so... like, i was wondering... ah..."

you found yourself struggling to get the words out, making ken look down at you while placing both hands into the pockets of his jeans. he waits for you to continue speaking, and you let out a deep breath before continuing, "i'm sorry, for being a bit cold to you when we first met-"

yet ken cuts off your apology by holding his hand up, "don't be, i was a complete and total asshole to you. you had every right to be annoyed with me, and honestly, no offense taken when the cold shoulder was well deserved."

you both end up laughing at the memory, taking a second to bask in the moment before you spoke once more, "listen, i was going to head out somewhere to eat dinner. would you like to join me?"

ken's eyes go wide as he gives you an eager nod, "would i like to join you? hell yes i would like to join you. did you have somewhere planned?"

you shake your head in response, "not exactly, but i figured we could decide together, maybe?"

a wide grin was then seen on ken's face, "are you in the mood for some amazing tonkatsu? if so, i know the perfect place."

"yes! i don't mind some tonkatsu at all!"

"perfect." ken then takes a hold of your hand, walking beside you as he remains on the side closest to traffic while striding across the sidewalk with you. by now, your heart was felt skipping its beats when you softly called out his name.

"hm?" ken faces you, and you gathered your courage before standing closer to him to press a kiss against his cheek. the kiss was a quick one, barely lasting a second before you immediately stepped away from him. you felt the heat return to your cheeks once more, catching the way ken touches at the spot where you had kissed him with his hand.

another rich chuckle was heard coming from him before he tells you, "you missed."

"eh?!" you turn around to face him again, only to see ken slowly turning his baseball cap around before leaning closer to you with a smile on his face.

"i said... you missed." finally understanding what he meant, you felt your gaze slowly narrow before closing your eyes completely, allowing ken's lips to meet with yours in a sweet kiss, setting your heart aflame with adoration for him as you gently kissed him back, completely and utterly engrossed in your own little world with him.

a.n. - so i just finished watching ultraman: rising just a mere few hours ago and had to write something for the new boyfriend material 😭 ken sato is so sweet and cute, and i get why he has tumblr in a chokehold right now. this is unedited, but i hope you readers still enjoy this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ bf!jongho x f!reader

synopsis ✭ when you come home from a less-than-perfect day, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found, but you don't want to call him and ask him to come home while he's out with friends. even though he'd drop everything if he knew you were struggling.

content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI, established relationship, non-idol!au, hurt to comfort, slightly angsty, relatively fluffy (certainly the fluffiest thing i've ever written here)

word count ✭ 2.5k

note ✭ so this was something i really needed to write for myself, i think. for those who don't know (which is all of you lol) i have adhd. where i see it the most in my own life is chronic procrastination. it's something i've had to learn to cope with a lot throughout my life. a lot of times, when i feel the need to avoid feeling the stress of my personal life, i'll scroll on instagram or tumblr forever. which then leads to a heaping ton of guilt in the following hours as i try to make up for lost time. it's a wonderful cycle.

anyway, this is to say, that coping alone can be incredibly difficult. don't get me wrong, i have a handful of wonderful friends (who go to school across the country) and an angel of a therapist, but i often romanticize having someone there to help drag me out of those hopeless cycles. and not because i think i need someone to do it for me, but having that person is a really comforting thought. and, today, that is jongho i guess 😀

that being said, this mc doesn't necessarily have adhd, but they are certainly experiencing something that i experience very frequently as a byproduct of it.

like, is this smut? yeah, but im allowed to be emotional 😗

warnings ✭ mc is stressed af, protected sex, really soft sex (they're in love 😤)

✭✭✭✭

It was a terrible day. One of the worst you’d had in a while. Nothing seemed to be going your way. You’d ripped your favorite pair of tights this morning when getting ready in a hurry after waking up super late. You’d locked yourself out of the apartment. The seven dollar coffee you’d bought for yourself to cope with aforementioned events had spilt all over your desk, ruining the book you had just received as a gift from a coworker. And, to top it all off, your boss had demanded you to stay late to finish what was supposed to be his job.

So when you finally made it back to your apartment, after waiting in the lobby forever waiting for your landlord to let you in, you wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch with your boyfriend and fall asleep in his arms. 

You were plagued with fatigue as you slipped out of your work shoes and made your way through the kitchen and into the living room, not finding him anywhere. The bedroom the two of you shared was also completely vacant. Nothing had changed since you’d left this morning. He hadn’t been home all day.

Maybe he’s just working late, you thought, slightly defeated knowing you’d have to wait for him, not knowing how long it would take. 

Trying to take your mind off of it, you scrolled on your phone for a completely indiscernible amount of time, feeling completely defeated with the day you’d had. Moving in with Jongho months ago has been an incredibly helpful step for you. Before the two of you had lived together, you were a master of procrastinating your own feelings. Constantly letting yourself rot away in your bed and letting the day pass you by. Only to be plagued by that crushing guilt that came with letting a day go by unproductively. Living with Jongho had given you someone to hold you accountable. To pull you out of bed because sometimes it was impossible to do it on your own.

But on nights like these, where your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, which was not a common occurrence, you felt yourself slipping back into the endless cycle of losing yourself in your phone for countless hours. 

Hours passed and the sun was almost completely down before you received a text from your boyfriend.

| jongho 🐻🤎: hey love, sorry i had to stay late for work today. i’m gonna go get some drinks with my coworkers.

| jongho 🐻🤎: that ok?

God, you felt so helpless. How horrible and controlling of a partner would you be to tell him ‘no?’ Did he ask? Yes, but you desperately didn’t want to be the girl who always needed to be by her boyfriend’s side. Telling him he couldn’t go out with his friends would make you feel like such a nuisance. You stared at the screen for a good two minutes, biting your thumb, trying to think of how to respond.

| jongho 🐻🤎: y/n? 

| jongho 🐻🤎: i can see you read the message. is everything alright?

Before you could even draft a response, his name flashed across the screen. Taking a deep breath, you slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call.

“Hi,” you picked up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You could hear some of his coworkers in the background. He must already be at the bar. 

You held in a sigh, “Nothing, I’m alright. Why?”

“Y/n, you read and didn’t respond to my message. Like you were overthinking a response."

You didn’t say anything. Overthinking yet another response.

“Love, I don’t even want to be here that badly. If you need me to come home, I will. But you’ve gotta tell me.” He was being so patient with you. So much more patient than you thought you deserved, though he would certainly disagree with that.

You took a deep breath, nearing tears, “I–” this was so incredibly hard, “Can you please come home? I didn’t really have a great day.”

“Of course, I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“No, it’s alright. I just need to see you.”

“Ok, just hang in there alright. Why don’t you hop in the shower, and we can watch a movie when I get back. I’ll pick up some takeout on my way, too.”

When you hang up, you force yourself to get out of bed and get in the shower. It’s so rewarding and feels so relaxing that you can’t imagine why you ever couldn’t get out of the bed in the first place. But, of course, you say that every time. 

✭✭✭✭

By the time you had gotten out of the shower and dried your hair, Jongho had made it home with the takeout he’d promised in hand. 

When you left your bedroom, you saw him sitting on the floor in your living room. He’d lit a candle on the coffee table and set the food down with it. You could tell he’d changed out of his work clothes into a hoodie and basketball shorts, mirroring your almost identical outfit. He didn’t notice you at first. He was chatting to someone on the phone, seemingly a friendly conversation, and not one you wanted to interrupt. When he saw you, though, you heard him say goodbye to whoever was on the line. 

Throwing his phone down on the couch, he got up from the floor and met you at the door of your bedroom. Pulling you into a big hug, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“No pressure, but, if you wanna talk about your day, we can.”

You shook your head, “Not really. I just wanna eat, I think.”

The two of you ate, sitting in comfortable silence on the floor in your living room. You noticed as you took in the scene around you, that Jongho had turned off all the overhead lights in the room. Leaving only the candlelight and the string lights around the ceiling to illuminate the room. There was something about warm lighting that made everything feel so much more cozy and comfortable. 

Your boyfriend wasn’t the most physically affectionate individual, but he never failed to make you feel loved. He always noticed the small things. He was hyper aware of your emotions in the least patronizing way possible. It was little moments like bringing home food for you and turning the cool-toned overhead lights off that reminded you that this man knew you better than anyone.

And that wasn’t something that happened overnight. He tried harder than anyone you’d ever met to know you. Your likes, dislikes, discomforts, phobias, and even your little habits. He knew it all. What he knew most is that you desired so bad to have someone to pull you out of your slump. Which is why he had come home early.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay out with your friends,” you whispered, staying focused on the food in front of you.

“I didn’t come home because I felt any obligation to. It’s not that I couldn’t stay out with my friends. It’s that you needed me here at home, and I wanted to come home and comfort you.” He ran a hand over your hair as he finished up his own food. 

That was another thing you loved about him. He wasn’t saying this because he wanted to make you feel better. He wanted you to know that you were not alone. That you were free to feel your feelings, and he’d always be right beside you to comfort you through them.

“Thank you,” you looked up at him, “I love you, you know that, right?”

“How could I ever forget? I love you, too, y/n.”

✭✭✭✭

After the food was gone and the coffee table was cleared, Jongho had put on a movie laid down on the couch, holding out his arms for you. When you finally sat between his legs and leaned into his chest, he pulled a quilted blanket over the two of you, wrapping his arms around you.

You paid very little mind to the movie playing on the TV. Instead you were focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the steady beating of his heart, and the minor movements his chest would make when he let out a soft laugh whatever he was watching.

He played with your hair, running his fingers through the strands, softly brushing his fingers over your neck with each pass. This position couldn’t have been more comfortable. Being with the man you loved as he comforted you in the way he knew best with absolutely no complaint was more than you could’ve ever dreamed of.

Jongho would claim that it was the bare minimum, but you always felt the need to let him know how much he really amazed you. 

When you reached your hand up to his cheek to brush your thumb over the skin, he looked down at you, completely forgetting about the movie playing. He grabbed your hand from his cheek and kissed your fingers, your palm, the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist.

Pulling yourself up to his face, you kissed him as softly as he’d done to your hand. Everything was so soft. From the way he kissed you to the way he caressed the skin under your hoodie right above the waistband of your shorts. From the hand you had in his hair to the way he lifted you to sit more comfortably in his lap.

He kissed your neck just as softly. You sighed contently. Fully basking in the way he took care of you. His movie was fully disregarded at this point as he gripped the bottom of your shirt.

Looking into your eyes he asked, “can I take care of you, love?” You nodded, helping him lift the sweatshirt over your head. 

Before you could even comprehend the nakedness of your chest, he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your shared bed. Laying you on your back. Your bare skin taking immense comfort in the softness of your sheet. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw his pants off to the side.

He immediately went back to kissing you. Hands moving from your cheeks, down your neck. His thumbs caressed your collarbone as his lips brushed the crook of your neck and then your shoulder. You shuddered when one of his hands took your breast. His lips met the other one, causing you to let out a breathy moan and weave your fingers through his dark hair.

He continued to kiss and touch every inch of your torso. When he got to your waistband, he left a small kiss under your belly button. His big brown eyes meeting your own as he pulled your shorts and underwear off together. Tossing them to the side of the bed. 

Lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder, he kissed your inner thigh, still meeting your eyes. The eye contact wasn’t broken until his thumb met your clit. Brushing over it slightly, making you toss your head back into the pillows under you. His mouth replaced his thumb, slowly teasing you. 

With his free hand, he took your own hand, the one that wasn’t gripping his hair, and threaded his fingers through yours. Thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

He felt so good. His tongue working so hard to make you feel pleasure. Everything was so gentle, but felt so euphoric. His fingers pumping in and out of you as he sucked on your clit. You felt like you could’ve floated away with the way he caressed your hand and your thigh. It wasn’t long before you were washed with a wave of pleasure. Everything was hot. You felt it rush through you from your ears down to your cunt. He kissed your thigh one more time after you came, fingers pushing you through the finale of your orgasm. 

Your breathing was ragged when he made it back up to your face, kissing you tenderly. Reaching a hand beneath the pillow under your head. He pulled out a condom. Before he could open it, you plucked it out of his hands, tearing it open as he stripped himself of his own underwear before you rolled the rubber onto his length. He groaned at the touch.

“You ready?” He asked, grabbing your arm and kissing your wrist.

You nodded, smiling, “yes. please, baby.”

When he pushed into you, you gasped and threw your head back again. He kissed your neck and shoulder, slowly thrusting into you. On most occasions, you’d beg him to go faster, but his subdued nature in this moment was so incredibly comforting. His thumb massaged your clit.

He kissed you deeply as he thrust into you. Completely overtaking your lips with his own. His kisses were so full of passion that your head spun. His adoration for you was so evident from the way he looked into your eyes when he stopped kissing you. Your foreheads pressed together, separated only by a thin layer of sweat. 

“I love you so much, y/n,” he says, just above a whisper. So close that you can feel his breath tickle your lips when he says it.

You moan softly, feeling yourself reach a second high, “I love you, too.”

It’s only a matter of minutes before you reach your orgasm. You grip his shoulders tight as he coaxes you through your climax. Walls fluttering around him as he finishes inside the condom. 

He kisses your lips once more before pulling out. He pushes himself off the bed to throw it away. When he comes back, he slides back into bed with you. Breath still slightly ragged. 

You laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat once more.

Running a hand over his stomach, you said, “Thanks for coming home early today.”

“Of course, love. You know I’d drop anything to come home to you if you were struggling.”

“I just feel like such a nuisance asking for you to come home,” you groaned.

He ran a hand over your hair, “I will never ever see you asking for help as a nuisance. Sometimes you just need a little push. Or sometimes you just need to lay in someone’s arms. I will always be there to do that for you. No matter the circumstance, ok?”

You wanted to protest, tell him he was too much, too good to you, but he kept going, “I trust you. I know that when you ask me to come home, it’s not because you're insecure or controlling. It’s because you need help, and I want you to always feel comfortable asking for it.”

He’d left you just a little bit speechless. All you could respond with was a gentle kiss on his lips.

For him, though, that was more than enough.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ ok this shit got really personal 💀 but i did really enjoy writing it. it's not often that i write a whole oneshot in one sitting but i did today (other than my minor break to eat dinner).

also, i was actually between writing this for vernon or jongho because i felt like they both kinda fit the vibe (sorry if the knowledge that this could have been a hansol fic makes anyone sad), but maybe i'll write something similar for him next time i'm feeling it

again, i hope you enjoyed this! thank you so much for reading 💗

mwah~

[atom-writings]

omgg i cant stop giggling n kicking my feet BUT can i request gn!reader 'accidentally' leaving a lipstick kiss mark on russia, america, canada, greece and japan before they leave for the day and the countries dont notice until either from a mirror or someone else points it out? AAOUGUGGH

hetalia russia, america, canada, greece, and japan when their s/os leave a kiss in lipstick

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: hjey guys did you know being a costume director is time consuming? i did not. send help. also enjoythis idk

Russia

It was never an easy affair to get Ivan out of the house. His clinginess combined with how admittedly boring his job was made it near impossible for him to leave without you forcing him to. Today was one of those days, and you were beginning to think you’d have to leave with him.

"But darling, can't you understand? It's so cold and miserable out there..." He whines as he holds you.

He's got you positioned so that you're standing between his legs while he sits on the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his head resting against your chest. So... no escape available without coaxing.

"I know, I know, but you'll be late..."

"They will be ok without me, but I won't be ok without you!"

All you can do is sigh until you're suddenly struck with an idea. You can't go with him, but you can leave something with him. And looking down at his snow-white skin, you have just the idea.

"But you won't have to be without me, Vanya!" You chide, tilting his head up to look at you. His face lights up instantly.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of responding, you lean down and press a soft kiss against his forehead, leaving a pink imprint of your lips on his face.

"That one was magic, ok? It'll stay with you the whole day, so I'll always be with you!" It's childish, and you're struggling not to laugh, but his innocent expression tells you all you need to know. He'll finally let you go, none the wiser as to what you really meant.

-

"Ah- Mr. Braginsky..." Some random intern was forced to prompt later in the day, his tone fearful as to how Ivan would react.

"Yes?"

"You... you have something on- on your face..."

"Huh?" He reaches up to wipe where the intern had gestured, but only smiles when he comes away with your favourite lipstick. He decides that whatever left can stay... it's just your magic, after all.

America

Alfred was a busy man for all the effort he expended to prevent that exact reality. He'd much rather spend all day playing video games at home with you, but duty calls. Though, now, was just glad that for once, you were busy as well.

“Hey, babe!” He greets you with a bright smile, resting his hand on your shoulder before moving to sit across from you. The meeting spot he had chosen was busy, but at least it wasn't far from either places you two needed to be.

“Were you waiting long?”

“No, not really,“ You respond with a sigh, twirling the straw in your drink.

”Well, that's good because uh- bad news, I won't be able to stay l-“

”Ugh! Seriously?“

He shrinks a little, fidgeting with his hair, ”Yeah, I know, but like- I can't reall-“

”Do they know you're a person? Like, a person who needs to live?“

“Technically, I'm not, babe,” He laughs, “But I appreciate how protective you are anyway.“

He continued to talk with you for a while, about your day, his day, a weird guy he saw on the street, about how you can't keep threatening his boss because he's the president- until after only a few moments, his phone rang.

He sucked in a quick breath and accepted it, only speaking for a second. Then, he got up with a dramatic groan.

“That's my cue. I guess I'll see you later, K?”

But he wasn't about to get away that easy. You shot up, grabbing onto his tie and pulling closer so you could kiss his cheek quickly.

“For good luck,” You assure, and he grins.

-

“What are you guys laughing about?” Alfred asks as soon as he goes back to work, looking nervously at the group of co-workers pointing at him.

“Got something on your face, man!”

Instantly, he realizes what happened and hurriedly wipes it off. His face is red with embarrassment, but he can't deny the butterflies in his stomach.

Canada

No matter how long you've been together, Matthew never stopped trying to be the picture-perfect boyfriend. At least, that's what you thought as he chose to show up with roses when he came to pick you up. It might've been a fancy event, but you're sure no one else would be doing that kind of thing. But who were you this kind of attention?

“Uhm- good evening, Y/N,” He stutters out as you let him come in for a moment.

“Awww, you shouldn't have!“ You take the roses from him and set them aside.

”It- It's nothing, really-“

”Most men wouldn't even think of that anymore...“ You assure him. He looks sheepish now as if he hadn't expected you to like your gift.

”Then- then, um- they should learn how to t-treat their partners...“

How cute. You walk over to him and stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he immediately stiffens and blushes.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“Ye-Yeah, uh-huh- yeah- y-you're welcome,” He mumbles, looking down in embarrassment. The colour gracing his cheeks almost perfectly matches the mark your lipstick left behind. You begin to say something about it, but before you can, he frantically cuts you off.

“So- we should get g-going right? Right, time to go...” He blurts out, taking your hand and almost dragging you out to the car.

-

Finally, once you two arrived at the event, you gathered the courage to tell him.

While you two walked, arm in arm, up to the main entrance, you suddenly blurted out, ”You have lipstick on your cheek!“

Except by that time, more than a couple of people had seen him. causing him to instantly freeze up.

The colour drained from his face, and he weakly whimpered out, ”Um, c-could you- uh- g-get it?“

You immediately obliged, cleaning off his cheek. He was embarrassed, but it was still on his mind all night.

Greece

“But do you have to?”

“Yes.”

“But-”

“I’m not getting out of this one, ok?”

“But I don’t want you to go…” His protests were typical, but that didn’t make them any less annoying. Although, it’s hard to resist him when he’s clinging to you like a lost puppy and he smells like he just finished cooking.

“It’ll only be a few hours, ok?” You sigh, finally finishing your makeup.

All he can do now is whine softly, which makes you realize there may be only one way to stop his desperate clinginess. You turn around in his arms, take his pleading face in your hands, and press frenzied kisses all over it. Instantly, his eyes light up and his lips form a dopish smile, and you know you’re free.

“Is that better?” You ask, and he nods. But before you let go, you have to admire how silly he looks with your lips painted all over his face.

-

By the time you return home, it’s already dark. The house is quiet, and when you check the time, you realize he would’ve fallen asleep hours ago. But considering how exhausted you are already, it’s nothing but a relief.

When you enter your shared bedroom, your thoughts are confirmed. He’s already passed out, his broad body splayed haphazardly over your blankets. At first, you don’t think anything of it. But when you turn on the light to get ready for bed, you notice the red stains still sitting on his cheeks.

Somehow, throughout the entire rest of the day, he never looked in the mirror long enough to notice the lipstick covering his face. Or, maybe he did, and just decided that your tokens of affection could stay.

Japan

Kiku was never late. Not even when tired, sick, or at war, was he late to anything. So, the one day that he allowed himself to relax with you, was naturally the first day in centuries that he hadn’t been an hour early. 

“It’s gonna be alright!” You call out from the bathroom while you do your makeup, and he doesn’t even waste the time to respond. Even from all the way across the house, you can hear him desperately throwing things together.

“It is not alright!”

“You’ll still be on time!” That doesn’t seem to convince him to calm down at all, as you can hear his panicked breaths growing louder as he makes his way over to the entry door.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” You insist, and he pauses for a moment. When you meet him at the door, he looks a mess. His hair was askew, his eyes wild with panic, and his tie nearly all the way to the side.

You sigh and begin tidying him up. He relaxes under your touch, you can tell even from under his layers of stoicism; although he can’t allow himself to bask in your attention for long.

“I must go-”

“I know, I know, just…” You pull him forward, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushes but doesn’t let that distract him. In a moment, he’s gone out the door.

-

After a frenzied drive into the city, he can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 10 minutes early… not great, but enough. He looks in the mirror one last time, making sure he looks his best before he finally steps out into the public when he notices it. The print of your lipstick, still on his cheek.

His touch lingers on it for a moment, his breathing stilling, before he rubs it off. You’ll just have to replace it later, he tells himself before he finally steps out of the car.

[bobafetts-princess]

Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

[tiny-1karus]

Pairing: Yandere Batfam (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) x Reader

TW: GRAPHIC domestic and verbal abuse (but not by the batboys) so please take this warning seriously, stealing, feels, background manipulative behavior, obsession

This is a hurt-comfort fic about a fem Cinderella-esque Reader who wants to move away and yandere!batfam's reaction and response to that. Btw, Damian is around the same age as the Reader here and they are both in university.

There are some dark themes but the hurt-comfort is the main focus. This is technically part 2 but can be read as a standalone. Enjoy!

Just a warning though, this is a 6k+ fic that almost got to 7k. I got carried away lol.

…

"It would be nice to get out of the city."

You were looking out the window with a pensive expression as you said this. You were currently in the Wayne manor's dining room eating lunch with all the Wayne men. You had just finished your lunch (after fighting off numerous attempts to add more food onto your plate with your fork) and was quietly sitting in the large dining table sandwiched between Damian and Tim as you waited for the others to finish eating. You hadn't meant to say it aloud, you were just musing to yourself as you daydreamed, but everyone in the room heard it regardless.

All of the men immediately perked up, albeit in varying degrees.

"You mean, like a vacation?" Dick asked across from you with a smile. You certainly deserved it, after all.

You shook your head with a chuckle as you leaned into your palm with a wistful smile. "Maybe something more permanent than that. Anywhere would do. Maybe out of the country too, who knows?"

Everyone frowned as they immediately picked up on your phrasing. They couldn't help the growing feeling of dread in the pit of their stomach as they began to fear the worst.

Tim cleared his throat with a strained smile. "Permanent?"

You turned to him with a bright and eager grin. "Yeah! Can you just imagine it? I finally get to build the life I've always wanted. Away from—" your smile faltered as your mind drifted to your family but you immediately picked up your smile, you didn't want to worry them after all. "—… From the city and all that. I could get an apartment, get a better job, the whole shebang!" You wiggled a bit in excitement, totally oblivious to the darkening moods of the people around you. You were too caught up in the prospect of a better life away from your miserable family to notice the downright frightening expressions of the men around you.

Of course, it was a few years away but 3 years compared to the hell you've endured your whole life? It wasn't even a competition.

You beamed at everyone even when they stayed uncharacteristically silent, you got the feeling that something felt a bit off with them but their faces gave nothing away so you wrote it off. "Don't worry guys! I'll be sure to get you all nice gifts once I'm rich and famous. The best on this side of the continent and what money can afford, of course!" You tried to flip your hair but immediately laughed at that. The very idea of you gifting one of the richest man alive and his family the best of anything with practically nothing was so laughable that it was silly. You covered your mouth as you giggled uncontrollably. Even if you saved up for the rest of your life, you doubted that you could ever gift them anything worth of value or that could match their status and taste. Maybe it was just as funny to them as it was to you.

But the entire room was dead silent.

You missed the alarmed looks and rapid silent communication that occurred between all the men in the room while you snickered to yourself.

Damian had a fierce glare as he clenched his fork so tightly his knuckles turned white, he had to fight the urge to stab something. Dick immediately reached out discreetly to Jason, who sat next to him, and gripped his arm in warning even as he struggled to remain calm himself. Jason shoved his shaking hands under the table and balled them into tight fists as he grappled with a sudden surge of anger, fear, love, confusion. It was a struggle to keep his rationality at the moment if not for Dick's steadying grip on his arm. Tim wasn't faring any better as he sat there with a growing sense of anxiety as he looked stricken, as if you had just killed a puppy in front of him.

Deep inside, they could all feel a gnawing sense of nausea and panic clawing up from their stomach up to their head as they fought to control it. They never would have expected this of you.

Why didn't you want to stay?

Bruce was the only one who seemed unaffected by the sudden revelation of your plans. If you had known him better, you would have noticed the subtle tenseness of his body and the slight furrow on his brows that betrayed his emotions. He knew his sons wouldn't be able to speak right now so he spoke for them instead. "What do you mean by that?"

Everyone already knew the answer to that but Bruce had to ask just to make it a 100% clear that you meant what they all feared you meant.

You smiled as you propped your chin into your hand, oblivious to the intensity of the question and the glares. There was an excited and hopeful gleam in your eyes as you told them the greatest wish you've held so dearly to your heart for years. "I want to move out once I've finished with college. Anywhere would do as long as it's out of Gotham. I think I could save up enough for that by the time I graduate." You leaned in with an excited grin as if you were sharing a secret, "I've been saving up for years, actually."

Your declaration was met with silence, again. This time, you finally took notice of it and the glaringly dark moods of the people around you. The smile dropped off your face as you looked around. Was it something you said?

"Is everyone alright? Did I—" but you were interrupted as your phone rang. You fished it out of your pocket and looked at the caller ID, it was your stepmom.

You grimaced as you excused yourself from the table and hurriedly went to the hallway to answer it.

The second you were gone, a heated argument broke out on the table as everyone started speaking in furious but hushed tones.

"She's leaving?"

"She never mentioned this before." Tim anxiously ran his hand through his hair, mussing up his neat do.

"Goddammit! The fuck is this shit?"

"We can't allow that to happen." Damian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I won't allow it."

"Calm down." Bruce's commanding voice cut through the frantic chatter. There was a familiar calculating gleam in his eyes. It was a silent command to follow his lead.

Slowly, the men all settled down. They were the Waynes, and most importantly, a renowned team of the world's greatest detectives and vigilantes. They couldn't lose their composure over this.

They'd have to find a solution for this, simple as that. They would have to dissuade you of this ludicrous notion of yours. The world was far too dangerous for you to be out of their sight and beyond their protection. They knew the darkness of the world all too well; they lived, fought and breathed in it's cover every day and every night of their lives.

Tim clasped his hands on the table and frowned. Now that he was thinking clearly, he immediately pinpointed the reason why you'd want to leave Gotham (leave them). Or, one of the main reasons at least, you've never really talked about this before now.

"I'm sure we're all aware what made her want to go."

In unison, all of the men in the table scowled and shared dark looks. They had researched your background extensively in the beginning, it was a provision for any person they had any form of contact with. It had simply started as any other security procedure, simple and necessary. But when their obsession started and steadily grew, they began digging further and further until the nature of your family was brought to light.

The Waynes were left severely disgusted and frighteningly outraged at the abuse you had to endure everyday from those utter scum infesting your house. It was inconceivable, that you—an angel and Paragon of light in their life—would ever be treated so terribly by the vile vermin posing as your family. Family was sacred to them, and for these churls to desecrate that by hurting you, of all people, to the point that you'd rather leave this city (and leave them) was beyond criminal.

They were the reason you wanted to leave (leave them, leave them, leave them). Of course, it would always go back to that pathetic, disgusting excuse of a family you have.

They'd have to rectify this.

For your sake.

No matter what.

…

You returned with a frown, the earlier light and gleam in your eyes had dimmed as you stood in front of the table fiddling with your phone. You noticed that everyone hasn't seemed to touch their food since you left, but other than that, they seemed normal enough. There wasn't a single trace of their dark mood from earlier. Had you imagined that?

"Sorry it's so sudden but I have to go home. Thank you so much for lunch! Bye Mr. Wayne, bye everyone!" You reached out to give a quick hug to Tim since he was closest to you.

Everyone stood up and crowded against you all of a sudden.

Dick pouted as he held his arms open. "You already forgot about me, baby?"

You laughed and quickly hugged him, his arms held on to you a bit tighter than he usually does but you didn't mind. His hugs always felt so warm and nice.

Jason ruffled your hair roughly as he pulled you into his arms the minute Dick let you go. "C'mon squirt, I'm taking you back."

You raised your head to look up at him even as you were pressed to his chest. "You don't have to, Jay. I don't want to impose on you." You protested with a chuckle as he squeezed you one more time before letting go.

Damian scoffed, even as you leaned closer to him and his arms automatically opened to give you a hug. A feat that none of his family thought him possible of. "Tt. Todd's driving skills are incompetent. You'd sooner put her in an accident before you get her home." He skillfully maneuvered the both of you away from Jason's irritated swipe. His green eyes looked down on you thoughtfully, "let me take you—" his mouth curled distastefully at the next word, "—home."

Your mind reeled as the boys began squabbling amongst themselves on who would take you home. You felt immensely flattered and grateful that your friends were so willing and generous to take you back back home but you were anxious about imposing on them and how you were running out of time to get home. Your stepmom could get… Nasty if you didn't follow her rules to the letter and you were supposed to start on your chores half an hour ago.

You held up your hands placatingly, "I'm really, really grateful for the offer, everyone, I really am, but I have to go. I'll just catch a bus, I don't want to bother any of you."

Tim snorted, as if the very thought was absurd, "how could you ever be a bother? That's just ridiculous. And a bus is just dangerous and unreliable at this time. C'mon, I'll take you—"

Bruce, who had been a silent, watching figure behind the boys, layed his hand on Tim's shoulder, immediately shutting him up.

"Tim, I'll take her home. Why don't you and the others rest for now?" His voice was calm but his eyes were a different story. "We'll figure out that… Issue with the competitors when I get back."

It was like a switch went off in the men in front of you. They suddenly looked so serious and grave that you were afraid to ask about it. It probably isn't even your place to know about whatever business the Waynes had anyways.

You withheld an exasperated sigh but couldn't help smiling a little as Mr. Wayne led you to the garage with his hand resting against your upper back. You knew it was futile to argue with the Wayne patriarch so you just went along with it. Secretly, you were touched and grateful that the family cared so much for your safety that they'd go out of their way to drive you home. It wasn't the first time they did this, but you couldn't help feeling shy about it still. You didn't want to bother or inconvenience them from how wonderful they've been with you, after all.

Gosh, you were going to miss this once you move.

!!! CW: GRAPHIC Domestic and verbal abuse, proceed with caution !!!

Days passed with relative ease, your stepmom still worked you to the bone like a slave as your two stepsisters piled on your already busy duties with inane, miscellaneous tasks that they were more than capable of doing themselves. This was hard enough to do on top of your college workload and your half-time job but you bit your tongue and silently shouldered it all. You had learned early on that fighting and standing up for yourself was pointless and only served to make your life harder than it already was.

And you couldn't afford to anger your stepmom, lest you lose the roof above your head (it was one of her favorite and reoccuring threats against you). You needed a place to stay that was close enough to your university that the commute wouldn't kill you and one that wouldn't be a drain on your already strained finances to maintain. You had already checked for every other alternative there was, everything was frustratingly just out of your budget and means.

On top of being a working student, you only got into the University of Gotham through a full-ride scholarship. You couldn't afford to slack off on any front. Everything would be worth it once you finally graduate. You'd leave this miserable house and find a place you can actually call your home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter with a cup of cheap instant coffee, the only thing that your step-family never seemed to touch. It was the main reason why you kept on buying the brand in the first place even if it tasted awful. You had just finished cleaning the whole house, ending with the kitchen. You were resting for a bit before you'd start on dinner. You preferred to do all the chores early so that you had enough time to dedicate to your school work before you had to leave for your shift.

As you sipped your crappy coffee, your stepsisters entered the house loudly as multiple shopping bags hung from their arms. They ignored you and completely blew past you as they went up the stairs with obnoxiously heavy steps. You glimpsed the brand on the bags as they went by and you couldn't help feeling confused. How on earth were they able to buy from Chanel? You never bought from there, never even entered the store in your lifetime, but you were at least aware that it was a designer brand and what they sold wasn't cheap.

You pursed your lips as you parsed through the memory of the past few days. You noted how weird it was that your step-family seemed to increase their spending habits from seemingly nowhere. Unless they secretly won the lottery and failed to mention it to you (doubtful, your two stepsisters were a pair of braggards), there was just no possible reason on how they could've gained so much money from thin air.

Your stomach dropped as a horrible thought crossed your mind.

No, they couldn't have.

You felt sick to your stomach as you rushed up the stairs towards your room. You hurriedly opened the door and locked it behind you before you all but dove under your bed. Your eyes widened in horror as you saw a corner of the perfectly cut piece of carpet flipped upward. You never left it like that, you always made sure to bring it back to how it was, inconspicuous and safe. Even if someone looked, you made sure to cut the carpet in a way that no one would easily notice.

The sinking feeling in your stomach opened up into a nauseating pit as you shakily flipped the carpet all the way and picked up the loose floorboard you had painstakingly pried open all those years ago. All to hide the ticket to your brighter future.

The small space under the floorboard was empty. The metal box that held all your savings was gone.

Just then, the loud, obnoxious laughter of your step-sisters rang out from the room adjacent to yours and startled you badly enough that you hit your head on your metal bed frame.

You felt so sick that you were a second away from throwing up that cheap coffee. You crawled out of the bed and sat on your haunches with a stricken expression. You felt far away as your mind replayed all the times you caught your step-family parading through the house with brand new, luxurious items.

It was your money the whole time.

After your first few, miserable attempts at gaining financial literacy ending horribly for you, you had decided to personally hide away your money so that your stepmother could keep her and her daughters grubby paws off of it. You had been meaning to transfer your money into a secure credit for years but with how hectic your life had been you had pushed it off until the last minute.

Now it was too late.

You were ripped out of your revery as your stepmother's voice boomed from downstairs, irritatedly calling your name. Without even realizing it, you were suddenly walking down the stairs on autopilot to be greeted with the sight of your stepmother standing in the small foyer with her arms crossed imperiously.

She eyed you coldly and her lips curled in a sneer as she gestured dismissively towards the kitchen. "Have you been slacking off? It's almost dinner and you haven't even started on anything. What do I even work for—"

"Did you take my money?" You cut through her incessant nagging. Your eyes bored into hers with an intensity that she had never seen from you. She seemed too shocked by your sudden gall that she forgot to be angry.

You stopped at the last step and gripped the handrail. You were quivering from nerves and a steadily mounting anger as you stared right at her, as if silently pleading that it wasn't the case. That, by some miraculous force, your stepmother wouldn't do something that was ingrained in her twisted nature.

Her expression schooled into one of casual indifference. The woman seemed to raise her chin higher as she sent you a challenging look, "what money?"

You curled your hands into fists and pressed them tightly against your chest. It did nothing to alleviate the pressure, pressure, pressure—that suddenly burst from the very core of your being into an enraged scream. "DID YOU TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY—"

A harsh, violent slap cut you off mid-scream as you were sent careening into the wall. Your head hit the wall harshly and you crumpled against the landing of the stairs, dazed out of your anger. Before you could even get your bearings, the same cheek was struck, but this time with a sharper, stinging pain that seemed to break skin. You cried out and curled up into a ball to hide your face.

There was a moment of tense silence as the all-consuming anger that had seemed to engulf you was effectively replaced by a familiar fear.

"How dare you." Her voice quivered with malice and sheer, utter wrath.

Sharp nails dug into your scalp and grabbed a fistful of hair before violently yanking your frightened face to face hers. Her eyes spoke of malevolence as she brought your head closer to hers.

"How fucking dare you!" She screamed right into your face, spittle flying from her mouth, "I decided to take in your worthless ass out of the goodness of my heart once your fucking daddy dies. I provided a roof over your head, food to eat, and the clothes on your back and this is how you repay me? You worthless bitch!" She slammed your head against the wall and you clenched your jaw just so that you wouldn't cry out.

If you hadn't been overcome with fear, you would have laughed right in her face. You barely had food to eat, all the clothes on your back you had to thrift on your own with your own money and this house? She stole it from you. You wanted to throw it all back in her face but it was getting harder to think through all the pain.

"That fucking money you have? You owe that to me for every single goddamn thing I've ever done for you. You could've been some worthless street rat or a fucking low-life prostitute but I kept you here, because I'm such a good person and I deserve nice things!" For the third time, she slammed your head into the wall, you didn't even have the energy to cry out. Her chest was heaving as her deranged eyes glared at your dazed eyes. After a moment more, she released her iron-grip on your hair and let you crumple into the floor in a heap. As if to add insult to injury, she delivered a swift but punishing kick to your side.

"Clean this up, then go to your room. You're not going to eat dinner and I don't want to see you until tomorrow." She clicked her tongue in annoyance, "selfish bitch."

Your stepmom stepped over your prone form and went up the stairs as if nothing happened. You pressed your forehead against the cool tiles and counted in your head until the spinning stopped and you could breathe easily.

Once you were absolutely sure that no one would be coming down, you shakily picked yourself up. You glanced at the blood on the ground that had dripped from the wound on your face. It was probably from the large, gaudy ring your stepmom insisted on wearing. You gently poked at the side of your head that had been brutally smashed against the wall repeatedly, it was really sore and you felt lightheaded. Your vision was swimming a little and you didn't know if that was a good sign. You desperately hoped that you didn't have a concussion.

You glanced back up the stairs, heard nothing, then began creeping towards the front door. You held your tender side and ignored the pounding of your head as you reached for the door knob with a shaking hand. You hesitated before opening it, afraid that the sound of the door opening would summon your demonic stepmom to give you a round two.

But the thought of staying even a minute in this house pushed you to open the door. You opened it as quietly as you could but didn't bother closing it once you've slipped past. You secretly hoped that they'd get mugged.

…

Once both your feet were on the pavement, you ran. It was raining heavily and you wore nothing but a thin shirt and threadbare pants so the cold easily pierced you, but it only pushed you to run faster. The sidewalk was fairly deserted so it made running like an idiotic madman very convenient. You barely had the presence of mind to watch where you were going as you frantically weaved through corners and streets until your lungs felt like it was going to burst. You didn't stop until you felt like you've gone far enough. Until you were as far as you could go from that house and the awful people inside it.

The rain pelted you mercilessly as you stood there on an empty sidewalk, chest heaving, head pounding, and body trembling from a mixture of the cold and the storm of emotions that whirled and ravaged you from the inside. You felt so angry, bitter, hopeless, and so damn helpless that you felt like it was going to tear you apart.

That was years of hard-work, of fervent dreams and hopes, of everything that you had been working so hard for, gone. And worse, you had been helpless to stop it. The vision of a bright future away from your awful family was cruelly ripped away from you just when it felt like it was within your grasp.

If you didn't feel so utterly hopeless and bitter, you probably would've laughed.

Someone called your name and you blinked up hazy eyes to stare at a man who stood a couple of feet away from you. He was similarly drenched in the rain as a white streak of hair hung over his blue eyes. His chest was heaving as if he had been running this whole time. It clicked and you recognized him as Jason Todd, your friend. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the very visible wound on your face and you quickly turned your head to the side and let your wet hair curtain that side.

"Doll," Jason called out to you as he slowly approached you, as if approaching a wounded animal. Once he was in front of you, his hand reached up to cup your uninjured cheek as he took in your drenched and rumpled clothes and your bloodshot eyes.

"Are you alright?" You had never heard him sound so soft before and the tender way he held your face seemed to break you down further. You sobbed loudly as you flung yourself into his chest and clung to him desperately like a lifeline. His arms came around you in a protective hold and you felt his hand on the back of your head as he stroked your wet hair comfortingly. You ignored the way it made your head pound.

"I can't take it anymore! How—" you choked on a sob as you buried your face further into his chest, "how can they…?" You couldn't even finish it as a surge of deep-rooted bitterness swelled and clogged up your throat.

Jason let you sob openly into his chest as he held you closely. He didn't seem to mind the rain as he just… Held you, out there on the sidewalk of the seedy part of Gotham. He felt like the only thing keeping you from tearing at the seams until there was nothing left of you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you home." Jason murmured into your hair as he half-carried and half-led you to a sleek, black car parked next to the road. He opened the rear door for you as you all but stumbled in and he quickly followed from behind.

"Hey, sweetheart." You didn't look up but you could recognize Dick's voice anywhere. "Don't worry, we're gonna take you home."

Home, there's that word again. It grated on your fragile nerves and made even more tears spill from your eyes. "Please, I can't go back there. I can't—please."

Jason gently laid a hand on your shoulder as you shook so violently it felt like you were falling apart.

"You're not going back there, doll. We're taking you back to ours."

Distantly, you felt like you should protest (you couldn't be a burden, you couldn't be a burden, you couldn't—), but presently you just didn't have the energy to. Numbly, you nodded as your shaking lessened but didn't dissapear. You felt so cold in your drenched clothes.

Wordlessly, Jason took off his maroon leather jacket and draped it over your shivering form. It was a little wet on the outside from the rain but the inside felt so warm since he had just worn it; it smelled of cigarettes, libraries, and something vaguely metallic. It brought a modicum of comfort to you. But you felt so numb that you didn't even notice that Dick had been driving for a while now until the car stopped.

The passenger door on your side opened and a big, warm hand settled on your shoulder. Dick's worried blue eyes looked down on you. You shakily stepped out with his hand on your back, silently supporting you. You gripped Jason's jacket closer to you as the two Wayne brothers flanked you on both sides as they led you into the house.

You had your head bowed as you were gently shephered into the living room where the rest of the Wayne men were anxiously waiting for you.

Dick led you to the cozy arm chair near the fireplace as Damian and Tim immediately stood near your chair like sentries. You couldn't bear to look at them so you let your wet hair to hang limply in front of your face in a weak attempt to hide your face and the bruise on your cheek.

God, you felt so pathetic. How do they see you now?

Suddenly, Mr. Wayne was kneeling in front of your chair peering through the hair that covered and stuck to your wet face. He gently clasped your hands as his steel-grey eyes brimmed with compassion. "What happened? You can talk to us." His voice softened as he said in a reassuring tone, "You're safe here."

You raised your head an inch to meet his eyes as you finally found your voice. "Where do I even start?" Your voice sounded so weak that you doubted he heard you.

It was more of a rhetorical question but Mr. Wayne just squeezed your hands before he answered.

"Start from the beginning."

He let go of your hands but stayed close as the rest of the Waynes seemed to huddle around you in a protective bubble. Your head was still bowed as you reached up to wipe the tears from your face as you slowly gathered your thoughts. It felt like you were majorly overstepping by even contemplating unloading your problems on them but you just felt too empty to care.

All of a sudden, a warm, steaming cup of what smelled like hot chocolate was pushed into your hands. You gave a brief glance at who gave you the cup to see Tim smiling down on you with a tender and inviting smile. You looked around and saw a similar expression of warmth and acceptance mirrored on every Wayne's face. Somehow, it gave you the push to finally talk.

Slowly, in a stilted and hesitant speech, you opened up to them about your problems at home. Like a dam bursting once the flood gates were opened, it felt like the truth spilled endlessly out of you as you shared your pain without divulging the more graphic and horrible details. You didn't feel like you had the right to say it aloud, not yet. You were half-afraid that they'd judge you for blowing up at your stepmom but they only seemed outraged on your behalf and so endlessly considerate and compassionate for your pain.

"I don't have anything more to give." You admitted quietly. Your voice sounded so hollow, even to your own ears. You stared emptily at the warm cup in your hands. It helped chase away the chill a little but you felt so empty and drained that you could do nothing but hold it. "Everything I had, they took, even when there was nothing left to take."

You sank a little lower on the comfortable armchair as you whispered in a broken voice, "It was my only hope. I thought I could get away from them if I worked hard enough. It's the only thing that kept me going." You chuckled bitterly and bowed your head lower. "Guess not."

Gently, as if you'd break otherwise, Dick pulled you into his side from where he was perched on the armrest to your right. His large, calloused hands slowly carded through your hair and you leaned into the tender touch immediately. His touch was so soft that it didn't seem to worsen the pain on your head. You felt pathetic, drained, and desperate for comfort. And these men have always been a haven of warmth and comfort that you had been deprived of your whole life. You secretly craved this but felt too ashamed to ever ask for it from anyone.

God, what were you doing? Now that they knew how fucked up your life is, how lower could you possibly sink in their eyes? You're better than this, you had to get a grip.

You straightened up as you finally met the worried gazes of the family around you. You tried to smile but you just felt so tired. "Don't worry about me, I'll… Be fine. I'd probably be able to save up again, I still have some time before I graduate anyways." You desperately wanted to believe in those words but they sounded like empty consolations, even for you. You had exhausted every other option, what was there left for you?

Their eyes mirrored your sentiment and you couldn't bear the suffocating sense of pity that seemed to emanate from them so you turned your head to the side in shame.

The action moved your hair and you felt a light touch as the limp strands of your hair was brushed away from your face. There was a sharp intake of breath to your left as Damian, who was standing next to the armchair to your left, gently ran the back of his fingers against your cheek, you winced as you felt a slight pain there from where your stepmom had struck you. His green eyes were a storm of emotions that promised danger (but not to you, never you) as he asked you in a low, chilling voice, "who hurt you?"

Immediately, the rest of the Waynes zeroed in on your cheek as you tried to hide it behind your hair again. Too late, Mr. Wayne gently grasped your chin, turned your head forward, and brushed your hair away from your face. Illuminated by the fire, the giant bruise that colored your cheek was stark against your skin. There was a thin line of red that ran horizontally from one corner of the bruise to the other, the wound had already crusted over but the whole injury looked painful and displaced on your face. As if it didn't belong on a person as precious as you.

You felt yourself warm up for the first time since arriving here, but it was from shame. Here was the evidence of a lifetime of pain and suffering and the Waynes, the most wonderful and kindest family that you had the fortune of meeting, were finally privy to it.

Tim was suddenly kneeling in front of you, replacing his father. He didn't touch you but his hands hovered over yours for a second before he settled it on the cushions on either side of your legs, his blue eyes seemed to swim with overwhelming emotions as he took in the shame and defeat writ across your face.

"I know how it feels, I've been there." Your eyes snapped to his, surprised. Him? You would never have thought…

He smiled wryly, as if guessing your thoughts. "Trust me, I know. My life from before wasn't easy." A shadow cast over his eyes but the kindness still shine through as he regarded you with an understanding that spoke bone-deep. "So please, believe me when I say that it isn't hopeless. I'm here for you, we're here for you. You're safe here, with us."

Tears slid down your battered face unbidden. You thought you had already cried enough tears to last a lifetime but the tears felt warm as you bowed your head and let them flow. For once, you felt safe enough to let yourself cry in front of people and it felt good that you wouldn't be punished for it.

Your tears dripped into the cool drink that you still clutched on your lap. Someone plucked it from your trembling hands and you heard hushed voices as they began talking to each other in soft murmurs. You let the soft sounds wash over you as you felt a wave of tiredness sweep you over. Suddenly the pain from all your sounds came back with a vengeance, it seemed that adrenaline had protected you from feeling the worst of it.

You suddenly felt woozy as darkness creeped on the edge of your vision for a second and you tilted forward. Strong arms caught you before you were even aware of it. Dick was staring down at you with worried but alarmed blue eyes.

You tried to smile as your vision swam for a bit. "I think I also have a concussion." You murmured but the words sounded slurred. It was getting harder to think from the heavy pounding pain in your head, it felt like someone was hammering away at your skull. Everything just hurt.

Someone cursed as Dick picked you up as gently as he could. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into Dick's strong, warm arms that cradled you so tenderly. The others hovered around you and their concern and worry was palpable.

Mr. Wayne's voice was a low, rumble that followed you as Dick began carrying you out of the living room, the others following closely as if gravitated to your side. "Stay here for tonight, we'll fix this in the morning."

You felt soft lips press against your temple and someone murmured against your head the words you've desperately wanted to hear your whole life, "You're safe."

As you slowly lost consciousness; you truly, from the bottom of your weary heart, wanted to believe that.

…

After Alfred had tended to you and you slept soundly in the medical bay, the Wayne men were finally able to leave your side before reconvening in the Batcave. You had suffered a concussion with bruises on your side and face, there was a laceration on the bruice on your face as well. The worst of it were the numerous scars that littered your body—some old, some new—which were usually hidden by your clothes. It was obvious that none of it were self-inflicted.

They were all suited up and standing silently around the batcomputer, as if readying for a mission. The air seemed to buzz from the dangerous aura that emanated from the vigilantes and they had a restless energy as they watched Tim work furiously on the computer. They already made a plan on what they were going to do to the utter scum that had dared to hurt what was theirs. They were just making sure that you'd get out of this situation scot-free.

Once Tim was finally done on the computer, he rose and gave the others a nod. Without a word, they all boarded their vehicles and shot off into the tunnel and into the night. They didn't need to open the tracking device on their equipment, they all knew your address by heart.

The darkness seemed to cling to them as they drove with a single-minded determination.

They knew indeed what evil they intended to do, but stronger than every afterthought was their fury, a fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evil.*

And oh, how they'd let this pathetic family of vermin feel their wrath.

It was their job to rid the world of their kind after all.

…

Aaaand that's part 2! I wrote this out of order and started with the second part before starting on the first but I got carried away with this so y'all can have this as a treat. This was a neat little experiment to test out posting, this is the first time I posted a written work since middle school and that was like a decade ago lmaooo.

This was heavily inspired from @blughxreader their platonic yandere!batfam content and all things batfam related is just top-tier. I lost so much sleep over their blog and I don't regret it. Check out their work if you haven't already!

*and the original quote goes like this btw, "I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils." -Euripides. I felt like it just fit the story hahaha.

Lemme know your thoughts! I didn't really edit this since I got lazy lol. This is officially my offering to the Tumblr overlords as my first post. I'm kinda new to this site and I'm gonna need their blessing and counsel. Wish me luck, babes.

[explorationsoftheid]

Autism: A Senior Perspective

Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.

The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.

I’ll start:

I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.

High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.

So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.

So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.

So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?

[kayleighwinchester]

Long Story

((Oh my god, I meant to post something on the 3rd and the 4th for @artyandink's Jensen-a-Thon and life just said 'mmm, no' - but here we are, my second entry! Another Dean x Reader! This can be read separately of Rocks and Rom Coms, but does follow the same reader insert, so they can definitely be read together! More coming soon! I swear to God, if this turns into an actual series... TW for mild mentions of injuries/blood.))

He had a key to your house.

Dean Winchester was one of three people (besides yourself, of course) that had a key: your mother, who lived across the country, over a day’s drive away in sunny, humid Florida; your best friend, who only really came over to your place for your once-monthly girls’ night; and Dean Winchester, who never, ever actually used the thing, preferring, god only knew why (he claimed it was more “romantic, or somethin’”, his exact words, not yours), to come in your bedroom window.

It was stupid, and maybe even a little dangerous – the half-dead tree he used to actually get up to the second story was one good thunderstorm away from falling, and the house itself was so old that you swore it was held together with duct tape and way too many instances of you calling your grandfather, who had built the house before your mother was even born, for advice and willing the house to stay in one piece.

With that in mind, you were thoroughly confused when, in the middle of the night, as you were making yourself a snack in the kitchen, you heard a key in the lock – or, well, the key missing the lock and hitting the door several times, and then finally making its way into the lock properly.

Even drunk, your best friend would have called first, even though, with how much of a struggle it had clearly been to get the key into the lock, she was your first thought. Your mother had just sent you vacation photos from her trip to California, which was even further from you than Florida. That left Dean – and the fact that he was using the front door at all left an uneasy feeling in your stomach. It was a clear break from a routine you’d established and held to for almost a year now, no matter what the weather was when he showed up at your window.

You turned, let your weight rest against the kitchen counter for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, and then pushed off of it, moving for the entryway. 

“Y/N? You home?” Dean sounded decidedly not good, and you picked up your pace just slightly, rounding the side of the staircase, and – oh. Dean looked decidedly not good too, though as he saw you he stubbornly straightened up, tried to smile (it looked far more like a grimace) and kicked the door closed behind him. He wasn’t entirely able to hide the way his weight pressed back against it.

“What happened to you?” You breathed out as you drew closer. You didn’t know much about what Dean did when he wasn’t with you – you assumed he had some kind of job, even if it seemed like a pretty shitty one – he showed up bruised and sore and stiff more often than not, but this was far worse than that. There was a bruise already turning a deep shade of purple above his eyebrow, and there was a slightly distant, foggy look on his face. You were willing to bet money he was concussed.

“Long story.” Was all he offered in response, slowly pushing himself off of the door. You didn’t pry – you never did – just reaching out to steady him. There was a mild limp in his gait, one that favored his left side, and you offered a grimace of your own. You weren’t sure he’d make it up the stairs, so you half-dragged him to the couch instead. He dropped down to the cushions with a groan, green eyes closing – if you couldn't see the pain he was in, it might have almost seemed cute, like he was just sinking down into a particularly comfortable seat. You knew better, in any case – the couch was easily the least comfortable piece of furniture you'd had the misfortune of owning. The couch wasn’t comfortable – he was just hurting. You knew that feeling well enough – the point where anything mostly horizontal and not entirely covered in bees was comfortable enough.

He didn’t stay down for long though – in fact, he was only sitting for the span of time it took you to return to the kitchen for the glass of wine you’d poured yourself and to pour him one as well – before you could hear him moving around again, and his voice was still distinctly not okay as he called out, from the general direction of the half-bath under the staircase, “You don’t happen to have any floss lyin’ around, do you?”

Floss?

“What?” Is the only answer you could think to reply with as you rounded the staircase again, glasses of wine still in hand, the bottle carefully tucked into your elbow. He peeked around the doorframe at you, somehow managing to look oh-so-charming, even now. 

“Y’know. Floss.” He motioned to his mouth, but you caught a glimpse of just a bit of exhausted exasperation, like he was explaining something incredibly obvious. 

“In the – in the hall closet, I think; why do you need floss?” 

He was looking at you like you were a little slow on the uptake, and you were staring at him like he’d gone insane, and it took a few heartbeats for him to seemingly process that his request was decidedly not normal. He made those, now and then, or said things, or asked things, that just didn’t quite make sense – this was one of them. You couldn’t tell if he was planning on actually answering your question – it didn’t seem like he was, at least not yet, because he moved for the hall closet, continuing his search.

“Dean,” You started, “you want to tell me why you need –...” Your eyes landed on his hip. The gray material of his tee-shirt and the upper portion of his jeans were soaked through in a dark, dark red, and for a moment, you felt a little queasy. “You don’t need dental floss, Dean, you need a hospital.” You informed him.

“Nah.” God, you hated it when he said that, because it was almost always followed up by something completely stupid. “I got you.” Yep. It all processed rather quickly after that. He needed dental floss for stitches. He couldn’t reach it himself – he had you. He had you, the nursing student, and he wanted you to stitch him up with dental floss. You set the glasses of wine and the bottle down on the side table before you could drop them. 

“You want me to stitch you up.” You clarified. “With dental floss.” He finally found what he was looking for - the unopened multi-pack of little travel-sized flosses - and waved it triumphantly next to his head, finally turning around to look at you. You were struck again by how tired he looked – you could practically see the headache pulsing behind his eyes, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that the cheerful, charismatic smile he was putting on was incredibly forced.

“It’s easy!” He promised quickly, with the tone of someone who knew what he was asking was most certainly not easy. “I’ve been doin’ it since I was a kid. Had to stitch my Dad up all the time.” He caught your eye, giving a sheepish grin as he saw the horror on your face. “Long story.”

That was quickly becoming one of your least favorite phrases.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for kicking someone out of my D&D campaign for reasons not entirely related to the game?

This is long but the context is important I swear.

About a year ago, I (30X) tried to assemble a D&D group with my coworkers. After a whole lot of fucking around, the guy who was going to DM moving across the country, and a bunch of people quitting or getting fired, it ended up being me as the DM, my brother, a few other people who I met through a different campaign, and one guy who used to work with me.

This guy, J (23M), had a lot of personal problems when he worked for us, most of which contributed to him being let go. He had a lot of family issues that led to him missing a lot of work (and I mean A Lot. We have a Very good PTO system for the US that basically amounts to accruing one day off for every 50 hours you work, earning more the longer you stay with the company, and more allowance for attendance infractions than any company I've ever heard of in the states). He also had a lot of interpersonal issues with some of the employees, one in particular, K (21F), with whom he had some kind of situationship. I try not to get involved in work drama, so I don't know all the details.

J also has issues with money, transportation, and depression/suicidal tendencies. I'm not judging him for any of those, as I have experience with them as well, but he has been leaning on me pretty heavily around every time we hang out to play D&D. I would cover his 120$+ Uber rides home, which he would sometimes pay me back but sometimes not (if I couldn't afford it once a month, I wouldn't do it, but he insists he's going to pay me back; since he has lost yet another job I am not expecting it at all and don't hold it against him really, but I do think it's kind of shitty to insist you're going to when you clearly won't be able to), pay for his food, work with my family members to get him home, and let him crash at my house to avoid ordering an Uber. He also messaged me when he was feeling suicidal - bad enough to be institutionalized after I sent him the number for the suicide hotline. Again, no judgement, but it made me uncomfortable because I struggle with the same things. He seemed bothered that I told him I wasn't able to talk him through it, but that may have just been the crisis talking.

After all that, we come to a game session that involves more than just navigating dangerous spaces and fighting off wild animals. The rest of the party does fine, but J really botches the social interaction part, despite everyone telling him what he's doing is a bad idea and me doing my best as a DM to communicate that he should change tactics. He does not change tactics and instead doubles down and goes full murderhobo, which is not the kind of player I'm interested in playing with, something I thought J understood from previous conversations.

My original plan was to say something to the table at our next session about removing themselves from the game if the themes weren't something they were interested in engaging with, but then I get some additional info today about J and K.

Apparently J has been incredibly possessive towards K - someone who, again, he was not dating in any meaningful capacity - for weeks or months, to the point that she has blocked him on social media off and on. And then this past week, J has sent her screenshots of her location, contacted her ex who she still lives with for logistical reasons, made him upset to the point that K thought he was going to kick her out of his apartment, and harassed K's brother to try to get her to talk to him again. K is seriously considering taking out a restraining order against him at this point. J has also been updating his social media to imply that he is going to kill himself.

To say this behavior raises some red flags is an understatement. Clearly J needs help, but as a regular guy, that's really not something I'm able to provide beyond sending mental health hotlines, and I don't feel comfortable being his support system in the way he obviously needs.

All that said, I feel like I might be an asshole for kicking him out of the campaign full stop, because he's been really excited to play this whole time. But the combination of all this really worrisome, potentially dangerous behavior and the mundane reality of him just being a really annoying player kind of has me at my wits end, so, WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[mixtape-racha]

lost boy | seo changbin

☆ part 3/8 of the 5 seconds of stray kids series ☆

words: 2.01k // warnings: childhood friends reunited, friends to more?

you hadn’t seen changbin in twevle years, surely he’d forgotten about you? kids of your age moved on from their friends like a change in the weather… right?

“please, y/n. without you… i’m just a lost boy. i can’t lose you again.”

coming back home was always a scary thought to you. you left home quite young, having to leave behind all your friends and everything you ever knew. moving from one side of the country to the other just because your parents got a divorce seemed so silly in your 11 year old head. just because mom and dad didn't love each other anymore, why did you have to go? but as your mom moved across the country for a job, and your dad moved back to his home country, you didn’t really have a choice. at least by staying with your mom you wouldn’t have to fly away for good.

honestly, you hadn’t seen your dad since the day he flew out to go home - not that you particularly minded. he was a very absent father, and so you weren’t missing a lot. what hurt the most was having to say goodbye to your best friend of seven years, changbin. you had met in kindergarten and had been inseparable ever since, so having to leave him behind as you packed up your entire home and drove away was heartbreaking.

you could vividly remember the way his parents had to stop him chasing your mom’s car as you drove off, both of you sobbing so hard that you struggled to breath. leaving behind changbin was the hardest thing you’d ever done, even at 23 years old, and you weren’t sure anything else could ever be harder.

so standing at the train station of your home town brought back so many weird and horrible memories. your mom had moved back to the town recently due to location changes at work, and having just graduated college you deemed it best to move back in with her until you could afford your own place. so, with way too much luggage on hand, you waited patiently for her to drive up and collect you from the station.

honestly, you couldn’t tell if the town had ever changed since you were last there at 11 years old. it was like it had been frozen in time, only now coming back to life. part of you was expecting to look in a shop window and see your childhood self staring back at you. you were more than relieved when your mom pulled up to the curb, beeping to pull you out of your trance and getting out to help you load your belongings into the car.

the drive was quiet as you took in the fact that you were back in the place where you experienced your first heartbreak. you hummed and nodded in the correct places, to show your mom that you were kind of listening to her, but really all you wanted was to sleep. moving back to your childhood home was exhausting, especially when you never thought you’d return there.

your mom allowed you a nap before you moved all your belongings in, saying she would just leave it all in the car while she went to run a few errands. you were extremely grateful for that, wanting nothing more than the warm embrace of sleep. it healed your inner child spectacularly when your mom came to tuck you into bed, kissing your head and telling you how happy sh was that were home.

you had almost drifted off when something she said as she was leaving made your ears perk up, and caused you to have some pretty strange dreams.

“all we need now is changbin to come over and play mario kart with you, and it’ll be like nothing ever changed.”

from that second onwards, he was on your mind for the rest of the day. was he still in the area? how was he doing? did he even remember you? it had been so long, would you even recognize the other if you walked past one another on the street? how were his parents, who were practically you second parents in the midst of the divorce and the move?

unfortunately for you, you wouldn’t even know for sure if he was still around for another week. you had just started a new job - part-time barista work in a local coffee shop, and it was nice. being able to get out of the house, reconnect with people from your childhood, and not feel like you were leeching off of your mom.

it was your third shift, and about half an hour until you finished for the day. you were behind the counter, scrubbing up the remains of an iced coffee one of your co-workers spilled everywhere, trying to impress a pretty girl with his ‘brilliant coffee making skills’. you offered to clean it when he quickly took off on his break, giving you a break from dealing with customers. but your attention kept getting drawn to a booth in the back corner, where a group of 5 men were sitting and laughing.

there was something so familiar about them, and you couldn’t put your finger on it. honestly, you didn’t even mean to stare or eavesdrop, but you were kind of glad you did.

“honestly, man. the new barista is really cute, i think she’s new in town. i haven’t seen her before she started working here.”

“yeah, thats because you’re a fucking hermit, jisung. you didn’t know we had a nando’s until a year after it opened.”

“yah! leave me alone! seungmin, he’s bullying me again.”

there was a lot of laughed, and it made your heart warm. you couldn’t wait to have a group of friends close by like that again.

“leave him alone, come on. or i’ll roast all of you right now.”

a giggle.

“do it, i dare you.”

“fine. chan - you’re old. jisung - you can’t skate, no matter how much you try to say you can. felix - the only way you get girls is by having an accent. oh, and speaking of girls, changbin –” your heart skipped a beat. “you’re still hung up on a girl that moved away twelve years ago and probably doesn’t remember you exist.”

fits of laughter erupted from the table, and you hastily moved to the back room for a breath. there was no way… right? it had to be a different changbin. it couldn’t be your binnie, could it? you were immensely glad that your shift ended, sneaking out the back door and catching the first bus you could back home.

it was overwhelming,knowing he was so close to you but didn;t even know you were there. should you have said something? you didn’t want to ambush him. what if he got to know you again and didn’t like you anymore? it was terrifying, and you just wanted a glass of wine and a nice, quiet night in with your mom.

it took another week until you heard anything else changbin. your mom had mentioned that his parents wanted to see you, and broached the idea of a small get-together to celebrate your graduation and moving home. with a grimace on your face, you agreed, knowing that your mom would invite all her friends and you’d be stuck in conversations that you had no idea about.

she was ecstatic that you agreed, instantly calling up some of her friends to let them know, and arranging it for the following saturday night. you weren’t working that weekend, so it was kind of perfect, but deep down you couldn’t bring yourself to be excited. you’d overheard changbin’s mom saying that they just told him you had returned to town, but would he even show up to the party? but would it be better if he didn’t? you were a huge ball of nerves and it was horrible. you missed him endlessly, and being back in town was dragging up all of those feelings, but what if everything went wrong when you saw him?

you kept worrying about it up until the day of the party, whining to your mom about it while she insisted she curl your hair. you didn;t understand why she was making such a big deal, you both always knew you’d go back to her after graduating anyway. you much would’ve preferred a spa night with some gin and pizza, but she was so happy to have people over that you couldn’t bring yourself to take that away from her. maybe after an hour or so, you’d tell her you had a headache, or were overwhelmed, so you could escape and hide in your room. yeah, that worked.

it was an extremely well-thought and calculated plan. you’d mingle, enjoy a glass of wine or two, then dip. was it rude? probably. was it worth it? 100%. but of course, like all well thought out plans, it came crashing down almost as fast as it was put into action.

the party had barely started half an hour ago, and already you wanted to leave. you were trapped with one of your mom’s work friends, and a lady who claimed to babysit you before you started school. you truly were trying your hardest to be polite, but it was difficult. that was until you heard a shriek of joy from your mother, and your eyes darted over to see her embracing changbin’s mom in a hug. his dad was standing behind them, and you swore he hadn’t aged at all. it was like being transported back 13 years, and suddenly your stomach turned.

“oh, i’m so happy (y/n)’s back! we tried to convince changbin’s sister to come, but she’s away on a business trip. we brought binnie though!”

oh god. oh no, you had to leave. like, right now. you weren’t ready to see him and get rejected from a friendship you’d never recovered from. you excused yourself from your conversation hastily, lunging towards the back door - but not before you saw a flash of black hair and a bunny smile embracing your mom.

your head felt like it was spinning as you plopped down on the swing chair in the garden. why did you agree to this stupid party in the first place? you could reintegrate back into the community at your own pace. you didn’t need to be force fed interactions with people you grew up with, you were a fully-grown adult for crying out loud. taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself, so caught in a trance that you didn;t hear the back door reopening and closing just behind your back.

“(y/n)? is that… is that you? your mom said i’d probably find you out here.”

it was like the world stopped spinning, pulling you out of your trance as you whipped your head around to be faced with the one person who both dreaded and wanted to see the most. seo changbin, in the flesh. and he was…. buff.

it was like a dam broke behind your eyes and you smiled softly as a few tears trickled down your face.

“hi, binnie.”

he grinned at your words, clearly relieved that you recognized him, and held his arms open for a hug. you couldn’t help yourself from getting up and leaning into him - it was like your body was working on its own accord. you both stood in silence for a few moments, and it was like nothing had changed at all.

“you’re still short.”

“hey, so are you!” you sniffled, pulling away to wipe your face on your sleeve. “i was so scared you wouldn’t remember me, or like me anymore.”

he seemed shocked at your confession, holding your face in his hands as he searched your face to understand what you were feeling.

“how could i ever forget you, or not like you? i’ve been praying on the day i’d see you again, stupid.” the grin on his face was infectious, and you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to poke fun at him again.

“you still scrunch your nose up like a bunny when you smile, too.”

“how could i not? my favorite girl is finally home.”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @skz-streamer @hyunjiins @backintomykpopphaseagain @demetrisscarf

[artiststarme]

Midlife Crisis

Should I write this into a longer fic or leave it as is? I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve didn’t know what to do with his life. It was a common thought he had on his shifts at Family Video. What was he doing? He of all people knew how short life could be and yet, he was wasting his own. Steve spent his weekdays working soul-draining double shifts just to sleep all weekend or work some more to make a meager $3.25 an hour. It was pathetic. 

He didn’t have any goals or aspirations. His friends were making plans, trying to impact the world and make a difference. Dustin was taking a bunch of STEM classes so he could apply to MIT in a few years and work at NASA like some type of hotshot mathematical genius. Robin was applying for elite linguistics programs at colleges across the country to understand more cultures and ways of communicating. Even Eddie ‘repeated high school three times’ Munson had goals. He was traveling to different cities with the band, trying to make it big as Corroded Coffin. 

Steve’s biggest goal was to get out of bed in the morning and stay alive for another day but he wasn’t even doing that very well. He needed something to be interested in, something to devote his life to and take pride in but he had no idea where to even start. 

Steve was twenty years old and having a midlife crisis. He hadn’t even enjoyed any of the twenty years he’d been around and now it felt like he was too late to do anything about it. He was too old for college, too dumb to get in even if he wasn’t. He couldn’t get a good job without a degree or quality life experience and he couldn’t mention any of that thanks to a stack of NDA’s.

He needed something though. His parents were done with housing their deadbeat son who managed to disappoint them with anything he attempted. He was sick of his friends saying that they had to study or they’d end up like him. And he was sick and tired of being the only person he knew that had nothing going for him. 

So one day, he decided to be spontaneous. He put in an application to the University of Illinois with an entrance essay about personal struggles, neglect, and self-doubt. He poured his heart and soul into that essay hoping against all odds that the admittance committee would look past his mediocre grades and would take a chance on the kid that struggled all by himself behind a smiling facade. 

He forgot about the application until he got a letter in the mail from the university. He almost threw it away right then but decided to take a look just to reinforce what he already knew, no college would want him. 

But they did. They congratulated him on his acceptance into their school in the fall and complimented the writing skills in his essay. They said they looked forward to having him join their program and mentioned that he would make a difference. 

So Steve took them up on it. He kept the news to himself until it was time to leave and said his goodbyes to the Party on his way out of town. He was moving on so they could too. Steve wouldn’t be the one holding them back anymore. Then, he drove past the Leaving Hawkins sign without a backwards glance. 

Years later, Steve thought back on his midlife crisis. He was just a stupid kid at the time that didn’t know all of the options he had at his disposal. Now, he was a world-renowned novelist with novels on the New York Times Bestseller list. He never would’ve seen himself becoming a writer but here he was, working his dream job. 

He never would’ve seen himself dating Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson either but here they were, partnered since 1988, married since 2014, and touring the world together on the Corroded Coffin international tour. 

Steve was having a crisis about a lot of things but everything turned out better than he ever could have imagined. He could’ve given up or accepted that he would never make a difference in the world or have a purpose in life. But instead, he took a chance and now he was living the best life that he could’ve ever dreamed of.

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[joanofexys]

omg can I ask about ur minyard ocs??? 👀👀

YES I CAN (and sorry for taking so long)

I am still undecided on if the Minyard twins (pt 2) will be part of my oc canon but they have certainly existed in my head for a hot minute (made them 3 years ago and forgot about them)

ig I should probably include tws. Nothing in detail but mentions of abuse, suicide, and SA

Sawyer Minyard

she/her

31

4'11

criminal defense attorney

has never played a sport in her life and doesn't plan to start

aroace

audhd combo + chronic depression

Saide Minyard

they/them (will respond to any but they/them is preferred as their gender can best be describe as "idk a blob of energy or whatever")

31

5'1

tattoo artist

played exy throughout high school and college but had no interest in going pro

played as a striker

has a bachelor's degree in psychology, never got their masters

also has the audhd combo + bipolar

Unlike the other set of Minyard twins these two were never separated, though Tilda did give them both up. Do I remember if it was mentioned how old Tilda was when she had Aaron and Andrew? No. So we're smudging the timeline however we need to for this like 10-ish year age gap between both sets of twins

Saide and Sawyer are obviously not identical if you read their height difference. And Saide will probably hold onto being the tallest Minyard sibling for the rest of their life

Saide and Sawyer for the first half of their lives were raised by a very loving foster mother who decided to file for permanent guardianship when they were 7 but due to some vague legal trouble that I haven't developed yet it falls through and the two end up being removed from her home

Thankfully the two stay together but they end up bouncing around the system for awhile and they both grow angry of it. For Sawyer this manifests in her throwing herself into school, an obsession with the justice system, and an anger with law enforcement (girl hates cops with a passion). For Saide it's finding any way to get out of their head. Parties, drugs, sex. Not all of it consensual. A lot of heavy and unhealthy self medication.

They split up for the first time ever for college. Sawyer moves across the country, a full ride with a good school that should get her into a good law school. Saide stays in state, a full ride playing exy, and they figure they'll take what they can get.

They both start receiving help in college. Sawyer attempts suicide for the first time at 21 years old as the contact with her sibling has grown more inconsistent, she has few friends, and she finds herself struggling to keep up with certain required classes she feels no passion for. She starts going to therapy afterwards but receives no diagnosis.

Saide gets diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar II their sophomore year after an outburst at a teammate, followed by three days of them being missing (out getting high and drunk and having sex they weren't fully aware was happening. crashing on friends couches and in their cars) and them returning to college with the following crash and depressive episode. They start trying different medication, stop drinking and doing drugs (with a few relapses on the way despite their insistence that they were never an addict), and started seeing a counselor provided by their colleges mental health service.

Junior year is when Saide starts experimenting with their gender. They go from he/him to he/they to she/they to she/he/they back to he/they and then they/them. That same year they start their tattoo apprenticeship while working toward their psych degree.

Sawyer gets her polisci degree, Saide gets their psych degree, and Sawyer gets accepted to an amazing law school (haven't decided which one cause y'all I have beef with Ivy League's and shit). They're roommates while Sawyer goes to law school. They both move again and get an apartment together. Saide gets a job with a local tattoo place and Sawyer is obviously a full time student. They're pretty cramped in there but they make it work

It's not until Sawyer either is a practicing lawyer or around the time she's taking the bar that the two find out about Andrew and Aaron. They've never had reason to think about other siblings. And obviously Andrew and Aaron had no reason to think they existed. But maybe something comes up with Nicky's adoption process for the two of them and the connection ends up being made

They're distant. Obviously neither of them can pack up and move again to take care of two siblings they don't even know. But there's a small effort made. Sawyer will always call Aaron back. If she's getting home at 3 am after sorting through piles of clients paperwork. Saide writers letters that he's 90% sure Aaron doesn't read and that Andrew throws straight in the trash. But they know they're there. It's probably not until Aaron and Andrew are in college and the events of the books starts going down that they really get connected. Because I'm sorry to Sawyer Minyard, vcious criminal defense attorney, who has to get the phone call that her brother killed a man and no it's not the one she thinks it is.

And this is getting long but yeah that's a bit about them

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Breathe | Mitch Marner

You and Mitch break up after you receive some news

warnings? angst. so so so much angst.

wc: 1.8k

Mitch was your soulmate.

All your life you knew Mitch was your soulmate, your twin flame, your person. From the moment you two met each other, you knew he was it for you. You were certain you were going to be together forever. Whether it be through friendship or a relationship, you knew the two of you could never be truly separated from each other.

Together you sat, a beach towel spread out underneath the two of you. Your head resting on his chest as his right arm wraps around you. You feel his left hand trail down your side until it reaches your free hand. Your hand lays flat on your stomach and Mitch rests his hand on top of yours, slotting his fingers into yours. His grip is soft. His thumb trailing soft touches on the side of your hand making you sigh in content.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers as your eyes glaze lazily over the stars above. 

“Everything,” you begin. “Nothing.” 

“That’s a lot. Wanna narrow it down?” 

Truth be told, you have been off for a while now. Mitch couldn’t tell what it was but you hadn’t been telling him everything. That alone, was a criminal offense ever since the two of you were kids. 

You had been struggling with simultaneous great news and bad news all week. Your mom hasn't been doing well, still in the hospital after a nasty fall. And yet, you just received the perfect job offer across the country. Your heart had felt like cheering and sobbing all at once. 

“Just about mom, you, work,” you explain vaguely. 

You feel Mitch’s eyes on you, his head moving just barely to look down at your relaxed state. You knew you’d have to tell him everything soon, but you were nervous. What did any of this mean for the two of you? 

You sit up, cutting off any physical touch between you and Mitch at all. You run your hands through your hair before resting your elbows on your knees. You drop your face into your hands and let out a sigh, knowing you’re going to have to tell Mitch. 

“What is it darling?” he asks, reaching up to rub your back slowly. 

“My mom’s sick again,” you start and Mitch offers you a sympathetic look. “And I don’t know when she’ll be out of the hospital.” 

“Oh baby,” Mitch says and you shake your head. 

“But uh, I got a job though,” you push on and a light smile appears on Mitch’s face. 

“Honey I’m so proud of you! And you haven’t even graduated yet!” he cheers, pulling you close and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He holds your face in his hands, looking at you with admiration you feel like you don’t deserve. 

“It’s across the country.” 

His face falls, his hands slipping from you and you shiver from the lack of heat his touch brings you. Your eyes search his, trying to gauge his reaction. For once, his baby blue eyes don’t tell you anything, they just look hurt. 

“What are you going to do?” he asks carefully. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Mitch stares quietly, before his head dips in a slow nod. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

“But you can’t leave here,” you respond and you knew this is what you were afraid of. 

For you and Mitch it was always all or nothing. Sometimes that was the issue. You both loved so deeply and have for so long that sometimes you were blind to things that needed to be let go or held onto. 

“Talk more tomorrow?” he offers and you nod. 

You had practically wracked your brain all night and all day before seeing Mitch again. You wanted to stay with him, make sure your mom was okay, find a job here. But the latter was your dream job, something you had been wanting since you were 16. How could you give it up? 

You head over to Mitch’s for dinner, the two of you making small talk the entire time. Your news from the night before hanging over like an impending hurricane that neither of you really knew how bad was going to be. After dinner the two of you laid together on the couch, neither one of you wanting to start a conversation that  you didn’t know how it was going to end. 

Mitch taps your leg, making you look over at him. He leans over, pressing a long kiss to your lips. You relish in the feeling of his closeness, never wanting to let go but when you do, your eyes flutter open to meet his. 

“What do you want to do?” He asks and you shake your head, eyes closing again. 

“I don’t know. This job is all I’ve ever wanted. But so are you.” 

“And your mom?” he asks. 

“I want to stay, make sure she’s better. But I know my dad’s here to help and is in much better shape than she is.” 

Mitch won’t meet your gaze, his eyes falling to your hands. He plays with your fingers running his touch over your hands causing you to shiver slightly at the contact. 

“You have to go.” 

You look up at him with shock, and Mitch still won’t meet your gaze. You pull your legs up underneath you, a stray tear falling down your cheek as you take a deep breath and weigh your next words. 

“So you don’t want me to stay.” 

“Of course I want you to stay,” he says, finally looking at you. 

“Then tell me to,” you beg, taking his hands and pulling them to make him really look at you. 

“I can’t do that. You’ve worked so hard for this job I can’t be the reason you give it up.” 

“I wouldn’t give it up just for you,” you explain and Mitch shakes his head before standing up in front of you. 

Mitch paces the room for a minute, thoughts racing through his head. He couldn’t leave you, but he couldn’t make you stay for selfish reasons. You were his whole world and without you he didn’t know what was left. The world was a dimmer place without you around. 

He tried and tried and tried, he wanted to be supportive and tell you to go but it was eating him up inside. He wanted to be quiet, watch you drive off and mourn your relationship in silence and yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go that easily. 

“I can’t let you give up this opportunity for me,” he repeats and now you stand up to face him. 

“Mitch,” you say cautiously. 

“I’m done,” he says, not meeting your eyes once more. 

“What do you mean you’re done?” you ask tears welling up to betray you. 

“I can’t be with you. Not when you have a life changing decision like this to make,” he declares, turning away from you. 

It was like someone had taken the smallest dagger and pierced your heart, slowly dragging it down the center at every word he says. Your hurt quickly turns to anger, and sadness rushes in like a wave during a massive storm. 

“That’s it?” you ask bitterness lacing your voice. “You’re not even going to fight for this. For us?” you practically yell. Mitch flinches at your tone and you cross your arms. 

“I can’t do that to you!” he yells back. 

“Who said you were?!” 

You both stare each other down and it takes all of your willpower not to walk over and wipe away the tears making their way down his cheeks. Mitch never hid anything from you. Never any emotion, any thought, fear, anxiety, nothing. And now here you stood feeling oceans away from the boy who always felt right there with you. 

“You have to go,” he whispers and the dagger in your heart has successfully ripped the organ in two. 

You nod, as if you can’t even believe it’s Mitch speaking to you right now. You grab your things, heading out to your car and the sound of the door slamming behind you is so deafening it makes both of you flinch. 

The minute you get into your car, sobs escape your lips and you know if you started crying now, you wouldn’t be able to stop. You place a shaky hand over your mouth, pulling out of the apartment complex as fast as possible and make your way home. 

The minute you’re parked in your driveway, every emotion is let loose. Your heart falls and falls and falls until it’s on the bottom of your car tire, feeling like it got run over a million times. The sob you held back before finally makes its way out and you scream knowing Mitch and you were done. 

Your tears flow freely, a mix of anger and sadness flowing with ease through your body that you aren’t sure how long it had been sitting there. You smack your steering wheel, banging the top of it with the palm of your hand wishing on anything above that this situation could have turned out differently. 

When the tears subside enough for you to walk inside your house, it occurs to you how late it is. As you step into your room, your eyes gaze over to the clock sitting on your nightstand to read 2:05 a.m. Had you really stayed over Mitch’s that late? 

You fall onto your bed, the thought of Mitch crippling you once more. You pull the covers over you and up to your chin, letting out a quiet sob into the fabric. It wasn’t that you had just lost a boyfriend, it felt like you lost your best friend. You knew that the end of you and Mitch, an end like this meant no communication. No chance to still be in each other's lives. 

You pull yourself up, trying desperately to wipe away the tears that were never ending. You lost your boyfriend, your best friend, the only one you knew backwards and forwards and vice versa. How could this happen in the span of two days? 

Mitch felt like he couldn’t breathe since the minute you walked out the door. His heart ached like you had taken it with you and drove it down the road the entire 20 minutes back to your house. His lungs felt like they had been ripped from his body and thrown into the garbage disposal, of no use when you weren’t around him. 

He collapses to the couch, burying his face in his hands and letting out a frustrated scream. The scream dies, turning into quiet sobs that can’t be heard by anyone else. His heart shatters as each tear falls. He knew this was best for you, but how could he continue if he couldn’t breathe without you? 

[artificialfanfiction]

Across the Distance: A Journey to Us-One Shot

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Disclaimer: The content on this blog is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes. None of the scenarios depicted here are based on real-life occurrences. Enjoy the stories and let your imagination run wild!

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pairing: Noah Sebastian x original character

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summary: Telling the story of Noah and Sophia, a couple who navigate the challenges of a long distance relationship when Sophia moves abroad for work. Through letters, calls, and shared dreams, they maintain their love across the miles, leading to a heartfelt reunion, a proposal, and the start of their life together. Their journey highlights the strength of love and commitment despite the challenges of distance.

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Noah and Sophia stood in their small kitchen, the clinking of dishes and the hum of the refrigerator the only sounds breaking the tense silence between them. Noah, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, stared out the window, avoiding Sophia’s gaze.

“I just don’t get why you have to go, Sophia,” Noah finally said, his voice tight with frustration. “Why can’t you stay here and work things out? It’s not like you’re leaving for a few weeks. You’re talking about moving to another country!”

Sophia ran a hand through her hair, the weight of their disagreement etched deeply into her features. “It’s not that I want to leave, Noah. It’s that I need to. This opportunity this job in Berlin, it’s something I’ve worked towards for years. I can’t just let it slip away.”

Noah shook his head, his eyes welling up. “But what about us? What about our plans? We talked about moving in together, starting a life here. You’re just… abandoning all of that.”

Sophia stepped closer, trying to bridge the emotional gap that had grown between them. “It’s not abandonment. It’s an opportunity for growth. I thought you’d be supportive. I thought you’d understand why this is important to me.”

“I do understand,” Noah said, his voice breaking. “But it feels like you’re choosing this job over our relationship. You’ve always said we were a team. How can we be a team if you’re halfway across the world?”

Sophia looked pained, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not saying this will be easy. I want us to make it work, no matter the distance. We’ll need to communicate, be committed. It’s not about choosing one over the other. It’s about making sacrifices and finding a way through this.”

Noah sighed, his anger mingling with sadness. “I just don’t know if I can handle the uncertainty. What if we drift apart? What if this distance becomes too much to bear?”

Sophia reached out, gently cupping his face in her hands. “I don’t want that to happen. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep us close. But I need you to believe in us, in what we have. I need you to trust that this isn’t the end but a new chapter.”

Noah’s tears began to fall freely, and he nodded slowly, his voice trembling. “I want to believe that, Sophia. I really do. But it’s hard.”

Sophia hugged him tightly, her own emotions raw. “I know it’s hard. But we’ve faced challenges before, haven’t we? This is just another one. We’ll get through it together. I promise.”

Noah clung to her, his mind racing with uncertainty but also with a glimmer of hope. “Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s try to make it work. But please, keep reminding me why we’re doing this.”

Sophia nodded, holding him close. “I will. Every step of the way.”

As the days went by, the initial shock of the decision settled into a somber routine of preparations and farewells. Noah and Sophia tried to adjust to the new reality, their days marked by both the excitement of Sophia’s upcoming adventure and the weight of their impending separation.

Sophia spent her days packing, organizing her new apartment in Berlin, and finalizing her work commitments. Each time she returned to their shared apartment, she found Noah quietly supporting her, even as his eyes betrayed his sadness. He helped pack boxes, made lists, and tried to act upbeat about the changes ahead, but the strain was evident in every exchange.

One evening, as Sophia was organizing a stack of papers, Noah walked in holding a small, worn notebook. “I found this,” he said, his voice tentative. “It’s the journal we used to write in when we first met. Remember?”

Sophia looked up, her eyes softening as she took the notebook from him. “I do remember. We wrote our hopes and dreams in this thing.”

Noah nodded, opening to a page filled with scribbled notes and sketches from their early days together. “We had so many dreams then,” he said quietly. “About our future, about what we wanted.”

Sophia traced her finger over the old, faded ink. “We did. And we were so hopeful.”

“There’s something I want to ask,” Noah said, looking up at her. “If we’re going to make this work, if we’re really going to turn this into a new chapter, we need to remember those dreams. We need to keep believing in them, no matter how hard it gets.”

Sophia nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “I’m ready to fight for us, Noah. I’ll keep that journal close. It’ll remind me of why we’re doing this. And I need you to do the same. Write to me, share your days with me. We’ll find a way.”

Noah’s eyes brightened, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “I promise. I’ll write to you every day. We’ll keep our dreams alive.”

As the departure date approached, their conversations turned more reflective, filled with a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. They made plans for regular video calls, talked about visits, and discussed how to keep their bond strong despite the distance.

On the day Sophia was set to leave, Noah drove her to the airport. The car was filled with a bittersweet silence, broken only by the occasional reminder of their plans and the hopes they held for the future. When they reached the terminal, Noah took Sophia’s hands in his, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of love and sadness.

“I’ll miss you so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But I believe in us.”

Sophia squeezed his hands, her own eyes glistening. “I’ll miss you too. But we’re strong, and we’ll make it work. Just keep that journal and remember our dreams.”

They shared a final, lingering kiss, each moment a promise of their commitment to one another. As Sophia walked through security, she looked back one last time, meeting Noah’s gaze with a hopeful smile.

Noah watched her go, feeling the weight of their separation but also the strength of their shared determination. As he walked back to the car, he took a deep breath and held the journal close, ready to face the new chapter they had promised to write together.

The months that followed were a blend of routine and adaptation. Noah and Sophia settled into their new lives, each day marked by the struggle to stay connected despite the distance.

Sophia’s new job in Berlin was demanding but fulfilling. She explored the city, made new friends, and immersed herself in her work. She often found herself sharing these experiences with Noah through their nightly video calls, trying to convey the excitement of her new life while navigating the challenge of maintaining a long distance relationship.

Noah, on the other hand, focused on his job and his own routines. He busied himself with projects at work, spent time with friends, and tried to find solace in the familiar spaces they had once shared. Every evening, he would write in the journal they had kept, documenting his thoughts and feelings, and sending Sophia updates on their life back home.

Despite their efforts, the distance sometimes felt overwhelming. There were moments of doubt and frustration miscommunications over text, missed calls due to time zone differences, and the occasional argument about their changing lives. Both found themselves longing for the days when they could solve their problems with a hug or a shared smile.

One rainy evening, while Sophia was at a small café in Berlin, she received a surprise package from Noah. It was a carefully wrapped box with a note attached. She opened it to find a small leather bound journal exactly like the one they had used before, but with a personal touch: it had their initials embossed on the cover.

The note read: “Sophia, I know things have been hard, and I know there are days when it feels like the distance might win. But I want you to have this journal. Write to me about your dreams, your fears, and everything in between. I’ll do the same here. Let’s keep our story alive. Love, Noah.”

Sophia’s eyes welled up as she clutched the journal, feeling a surge of love and reassurance. That night, during their video call, she showed Noah the gift. “Thank you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “This means more to me than you know.”

Noah smiled warmly. “I’m glad you like it. It’s a reminder that we’re still writing our story, even if it’s from different places. We’re still a team, Sophia. And we will get through this.”

As they continued to exchange letters and journal entries, their connection deepened. They shared their daily highs and lows, celebrated small victories, and comforted each other through tough times. Their commitment to their relationship was evident in every conversation and in the heartfelt words they wrote to each other.

Over time, the challenges of long distance living became more manageable. They planned visits, each reunion a cherished moment that rekindled their bond and reinforced their belief in their future together. Their dreams of a shared life began to take shape once more, strengthened by the trials they had faced and the love that had carried them through.

And so, as the seasons changed and their story continued to unfold, Noah and Sophia found strength in their shared commitment and the dreams they had always held close. Each day brought them closer to the day they would no longer be separated by oceans but would instead be together, ready to embrace the future they had fought so hard to build.

As the year progressed, Noah and Sophia’s long distance relationship matured into a new rhythm. Their scheduled calls and shared journal entries became lifelines, helping them navigate the ups and downs of their separation. They celebrated each other’s achievements and provided solace during challenging times.

One evening, after a particularly trying week for both of them, Noah found a letter from Sophia waiting in his mailbox. It was an unexpected surprise, handwritten and filled with her thoughts and feelings. In her letter, Sophia expressed her longing to close the distance and shared her excitement about an opportunity to return home for a short visit.

Noah’s heart raced as he read her words. Sophia wrote about the emotional strain of their separation but also her renewed hope, stating that the visit was just the first step toward a larger plan: finding a way to bridge the gap permanently. She hinted at discussions with her employer about remote work options and her desire to explore solutions that would allow them to finally be together.

That night, during their video call, Noah was bubbling with excitement. “Sophia, I got your letter,” he said, his eyes shining with anticipation. “I’m so glad you’re coming home. It feels like a dream.”

Sophia’s smile was radiant. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us and our future. I want to make it work, Noah. I’m exploring every possibility to come back for good. I want us to build a life together, not just dream about it from afar.”

Noah nodded, his emotions catching up with his excitement. “I’ve been thinking about it too. I’ve started looking into job opportunities that might let me move closer to you. We can figure this out together. We just need to keep talking and planning.”

Their conversation continued late into the night, filled with plans and possibilities. They discussed potential timelines, career moves, and how they would manage their finances. Each idea was met with enthusiasm and mutual support, a testament to how far they had come.

When Sophia finally returned home, the reunion was both joyous and bittersweet. They spent her visit savoring every moment, making up for lost time. Their days were filled with laughter, long walks, and intimate conversations that reminded them of the depth of their connection. They talked about their future together, exploring both practical and romantic aspects of their plans.

On their last evening together, they sat in the living room, the soft glow of candles casting a warm light. Noah reached into his drawer and pulled out a small, velvet box. He took a deep breath and looked at Sophia with earnest eyes.

“Sophia,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotion. “This year has been the hardest one we’ve ever faced, but it’s also shown me how strong we are together. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I want us to face whatever comes next as partners.”

He opened the box to reveal a delicate, silver ring. “Will you marry me?”

Sophia’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Tears of joy streamed down her face as she nodded. “Yes, Noah. Yes, I will.”

As they embraced, their future together seemed more certain than ever. The ring symbolized not just their commitment but their shared dream of overcoming the distance and building a life together.

In the months that followed, they worked diligently to make their plans a reality. Sophia adjusted her job situation, and Noah began searching for opportunities that would allow him to relocate. Their relationship, tested by time and distance, had grown stronger and more resilient.

Eventually, they found themselves preparing for the next chapter one where they would no longer be separated by oceans but instead would start a new life side by side. And as they took these final steps toward their future, they knew that their love, forged in the trials of separation, would guide them through every challenge they might face.

As the final days before their new life together approached, Noah and Sophia could hardly contain their excitement. Their careful planning and sacrifices were about to culminate in the beginning of their shared future.

Sophia had secured a position that allowed her to work remotely from their hometown, and Noah had found a job that aligned with his career goals and allowed him to be closer to her. Their new apartment was filled with boxes and the promise of new memories.

One morning, Noah and Sophia stood together on the balcony of their new apartment, overlooking the city they had both come to love. The space was still cluttered with moving boxes, but it was beginning to feel like home. They took a moment to savor the transition from planning and longing to living their dream.

Noah turned to Sophia, taking her hand in his. “Can you believe we’re actually here? All those months of uncertainty, and now we’re finally starting our life together.”

Sophia squeezed his hand, her eyes shining with happiness. “It feels surreal. I’m so grateful for everything we went through because it brought us to this moment. I wouldn’t trade any of it.”

They had spent the last few days unpacking, arranging furniture, and decorating their new space. Each item they placed was a testament to their journey a mix of old memories and new beginnings. 

As they settled into their routine, the challenges of blending their lives together surfaced, but they faced them with the same resolve that had carried them through their time apart. They communicated openly, supported each other’s goals, and continued to grow as a couple. The trials of the past had strengthened their bond, and they now approached each new day with the confidence that they could face anything together.

On their first evening in the new apartment, they shared a simple meal and reflected on their journey. Noah raised his glass for a toast. “To us,” he said. “To the distance that tested us and the love that brought us back together.”

Sophia clinked her glass with his and smiled. “To our new beginning and the future we’ve dreamed of.”

As they shared their meal, surrounded by the warmth of their new home, they both knew that their journey had only just begun. They had faced the challenge of distance and emerged stronger, ready to embrace the next chapter of their lives with the same determination and love that had guided them through their separation.

In their new life, they found not just comfort in their shared space but also a deepened appreciation for their relationship. Each day was a reminder of the strength of their love and the resilience they had developed together. And as they looked out over their city from their new home, they felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that they had built something beautiful from the challenges they had faced.

Their story, now a testament to their perseverance and commitment, was just beginning to unfold, full of promise and possibility.

[lilolilyr]

I have an idea for an Andromaquynh modern AU fanfic

In it, Quynh moves back home to her parents after getting a degree at university she isn't really sure she can or wants to use. She used to think that she's a city girl despising the suburbs she grew up in, but now she thinks she was wrong about that or maybe her preferences changed, she doesn't much like the cities she studied in anymore, first she thinks it's because she studied abroad (in the countries of her ancestors) and could never quite connect to the culture there, but visiting a friend in a city in her home country shows her it isn't just that, she just prefers a quieter environment

In the meantime, her parents have moved to a different part of town and it doesn't really feel like coming home at all. Quynh still struggles with her place in life, she doesn't want to hang around on her parents' couch doing nothing forever but she doesn't know what else to do either and the thought of a regular 9-5 job in an office terrifies her, she has done enough internships in that kind of environment to know she can't stand it for long

Quynh starts taking long walks through the countryside, for her health because she hasn't really found any sports/active hobbies in the area yet (that's an aspect she really liked about the cities, there's always something interesting going on, she used to dance and try out things like shooting with bow&arrow and axe throwing), and to have quiet time to think away from her family. That way she gets to know the area quite well - she actually already knows it a bit because she really didn't live far away as a kid, but she never really walked through the fields on this side of the suburbs before

On her walks she sometimes comes across equestrians, and one time a horse throws off its rider and she ends up catching the animal, which doesn't seem to mind people in general just people trying to climb and sit on it - it won't stay the last time she comes across that particular animal, and she thinks she understands the horse quite well what with not wanting to do jobs they don't like just to be allowed to live comfortably.

Andy's the owner of the horse riding school, and when a girl falls off her horse (probably the one that doesn't much like its riders, Quynh calls it Big Guy lovingly not knowing what it's actually called) and needs medical attention, Quynh ends up taking the horse back to the stables and meets Andy there.

There's a bit of an age-gap between them and even once they meet and fall in love Andy is reluctant to commit to Quynh out of fear of tying Quynh to a life she might not really want, meanwhile Quynh is finally figuring out her place in life and she wants to stay with Andy.

I'll probably never write the full fanfic, I just don't have the time and motivation for it. If anyone's interested in getting the draft and adopting it, I'd love to hand it over for you to write it!

Post is okay to reblog :)

The draft I have is pretty much in bullet points atm, but I'd even go over it and clean it up a bit if someone's really interested in adopting the fic, and I'd be open to either chatting about it and giving more input, or you taking it and doing your own thing with it!

I don't have the time to write a longfic atm and I feel like what with the plot I'm thinking of, it really needs to be 10 or even 20k minimum to start doing it justice... That being said if sb wants to try writing a shorter version or is inspired by it to write anything similar, absolutely feel free! Just pls lmk once it's done so I can read it :D

I also already wrote a college AU horse girl!Andy longfic before, and while that one was happier and this one would probably have quite some angsty vibes before reaching its happy ending, it still kind of feels like I've done this before, also reducing my motivation for it even more :( which is a pity really because I do really like the idea.

If you want to take on the story reply to this or send me an ask/dm and we can figure out how to do this, discord/email/docs or whatever :)

My tog tag list - I know it's been ages, if anyone wants off this list or if someone new wants on it, please let me know! -: @bobeau-beaubo @lesbianlotties (daniwouldnever) @ongreenergrasses @eyeh0rr0r @cantteachanoldguardnewquotes @badwolfkaily @andramaquynhs @depresbianintheclassicalsense @andy-the-scythian @cryhardanddanceharder @my-gaydar-is-on-point @spookyvoidangelskeleton @bookerandy @jackwolfskid @cinnamonplums @cruzwalters @kayivy @blacks-phoenix @binariesarebullshit @tea-lizzard @prevalent-masters @aftermillennia @youssefguedira (pierremichelofavignon) @salzundhonig @moonlightbuckley @genyathefirebird (rupzydaisy) @nickydestati @after-a-millennium @spacewitchqueen @damnbert @not-so-good-omen (innocent-gayngel) @rhubarbdreams-blog @bedalk