#just been busy and keep forgetting 🫠

[turboemmy]

edgar!! ^_^

[ellswritings]

You Never Noticed

Emotional cheater!Cody Rhodes/Runnels x reader

Part 2

TW: Emotional cheating on Cody’s end. Lots of angst. Heartbreak. Use of real names. I know a lot yall wanted another Cody imagine, and I’m sure this isn’t what was wanted, but I’m in a sad mood 🫠.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Being the quarterback of the company wasn’t easy. Cody always wanted to be at the center of it all. To fight for his legacy, his family’s legacy, to show the people he was their champion. He threw himself into his work, never giving up even when things seemed stacked against him.

That’s one of the many things that drew Y/N to him in the first place. They had bumped into each other years before when Y/N herself was a wrestler in the company. However, accidents happen, and when she broke her back after a botched belly to back suplex from Charlotte Flair, returning in-ring became nothing but a fever dream.

Thankfully, she had created a big enough name for herself to be offered the general manager position on SmackDown. It broke her heart to lose what she loved, but she learned to love her new role as well.

But when Cody Runnels came back to the company, that’s when her life changed. It started off slow, but The American Nightmare was quick to charm the normally professional and witty GM.

When they started dating, no one was surprised. In fact, it was almost expected. They never were unprofessional onscreen, but everyone knew how they felt about each other. They were easily the blueprint to a perfect relationship, well, for the first year or so at least.

The cracks started forming a few months ago. It originated with him coming home or back to their shared hotel rooms later than expected. Then it turned into him flaking on plans they had made before shows to go to the arena early. Him choosing to go to the gym alone instead of with her. Forgetting important events that meant something to her. To even avoiding her at work because he was so “busy.”

For a while, Y/N understood. She knew what kind of pressure he was under. She was under it once too. She never took it personally until she heard him walk into their hotel room late one night, clearly on the phone with someone.

His voice was soft, delicate, the one she hadn’t heard in months. The one that used to be reserved for her. His infectious laugh was low and gravelly, no doubt trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t wake her. He just didn’t know she never slept until she knew he was back.

At that point, she wished she would have been asleep. Then maybe she wouldn’t have had to deal with that gut wrenching feeling hearing him talk so freely with someone who wasn’t her. Her heart wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. That maybe he was talking to his mom or his sister, the two most important women in his life. But her mind knew better.

He was still there with her physically, but it’s clear his mind was somewhere else. Y/N didn’t know how to approach him anymore. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it so it wouldn’t come off as an accusation. It terrified her to accuse him of something he might not even be doing, but it’s eating her alive not to know if her anxieties are right.

She’s never been one to let her personal life impact her work, but watching the man she gave everything to, gave everything up for, moved to a completely different state away from her family just so they could be together, it messed with her mind. She didn’t trust easily, she never has. But with Cody, it was easy. She let her guard down for him but now it feels like he doesn’t even know her at all.

Or maybe he doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

Y/N ran a hand over her face in frustration as she read over another email from a faceless exec who has never even stepped foot into one of their training centers, telling her that new releases would be coming up soon. This was the one part of the job she hated. She was expected to pull up numbers and hand them over to Paul so the board could decide who they wanted to cut from the company.

Having to look at someone who she’s no doubt known for years and let them know they would be losing their job had to be the hardest thing in the world. And having her internal struggle with Cody only made it that much more stressful.

A knock sounded on her office door, forcing her to look up. “Come in,” she tells whoever is trying to get her attention.

“Hey Y/N,” Andrew Galloway’s Scottish accent filled her office as he slowly opened the door. He popped only his head in, keeping the rest of his body outside as if he was afraid of interrupting her. “Someone said you wanted to see me?”

“Hey Drew,” Y/N smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, come in.” She moves some scattered papers out of the way as the six foot five male enters, shutting the door respectfully behind him. Y/N continues shuffling around. Anyone else would’ve thought it was just her reorganizing, but Drew knew her better than that. He could see something was bothering her. It had started a while back when he first noticed, but Y/N’s always been independent. She doesn’t need or want anyone’s help. However, it still concerned him to see his close friend in such a state.

“I just wanted to call you in here and go over some last minute changes with the script for you and Luis’ segment,” she huffs, finally taking her seat again. Once she meets his eyes though, he can visibly see how tired she is. She may not have any bags under her eyes, but it’s not hard to tell there’s something taking a toll on her.

Drew didn’t look down at the pages.

Not immediately, anyway.

His gaze stayed fixed on her—on the hollow look in her eyes, the tightness in her jaw, the way her knuckles paled from how hard she was gripping the edge of her desk. He couldn’t remember the last time she smiled like she meant it. Not in weeks. Maybe longer.

Y/N tapped her pen twice against the table, the rhythmic click sharp against the low hum of the office lights. “It’s just minor stuff, nothing crazy. I moved you guys a bit earlier so it flows better after the tag match. I’ve already run it by him, and he’s good with it. I just wanted you in the loop.”

She sounded normal—too normal. Polished, professional. Like nothing in the world was wrong. But her voice had that practiced crispness people used when they were hiding behind it.

Drew nodded slowly, still not touching the papers. “Got it.”

She looked back down at the emails in front of her, pretending to scroll, eyes darting too quickly across the screen to be reading. Her leg bounced beneath the desk. The pen clicked again.

He hated seeing her like this. Like she was trying to convince herself she could just power through whatever storm she was drowning in.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” he asked, voice softer than usual, cutting through the quiet.

That made her pause. The pen stopped. Her eyes flicked up to him.

She smiled—too fast, too forced. “What? Of course I have. Just a long week. You know how it is before a PLE.”

Drew tilted his head, unimpressed. “You forget how long I’ve known you?”

She laughed, but it was paper-thin. “I’m fine, Drew.”

She wasn’t. Not even close.

Her skin was a shade paler than usual, eyes rimmed faintly in red like she hadn’t cried but had come dangerously close. There was a weariness to her movements, like even reaching for her water bottle took effort.

He let his eyes drift down—nails chewed to the quick, the thin crescent indents in her palms from where she’d clearly been clenching her fists too tight for too long. And that photo frame. The Polaroid. Her and Cody. Still facedown, like she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

The most damning thing, though, wasn’t the physical evidence. It was the absence of something she used to carry without even trying: light.

She used to walk into rooms and make people feel like they belonged. She used to throw out quick-witted banter with a glint in her eye and fire in her chest. She used to look at him—Cody—with this soft, unshakeable kind of love that made people jealous.

Now, all anyone saw in her eyes when he was around was quiet disdain.

A cooling resentment. The kind that built slowly, in silence, like snow on a rooftop just waiting to collapse.

And Cody didn’t even seem to notice.

“I know it’s not my business,” Drew said finally, voice firmer now, “but you should know you’re not fooling anybody.”

Y/N’s smile faded, her jaw flexing as she stared at a spot on her desk. “There’s nothing going on,” she murmured. “Really.”

“Bullshite.”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing in offense—but Drew wasn’t backing down. “You think I don’t see it? You’ve gone quiet, you hardly eat, and you used to look at him like he hung the bloody moon. Now I see you in catering pretending not to notice when he walks in. And when you do look at him, it’s like your chest physically aches.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, eyes glossy.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“I know you, Y/N. Better than you think. You keep everything bottled in until it eats you alive.” Drew stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Whatever’s going on between you and Cody… don’t let it break you before you’ve had a chance to fight back.”

“I am fighting,” she snapped quietly, voice cracking. “I have been. Every single day. But you can’t fight someone who won’t meet you halfway.”

Silence stretched between them.

Drew’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her—shoulders drawn up like she was holding her world together with both hands, just waiting for one more wrong word to make it all collapse.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he admitted, eyes softening. “You don’t deserve to become a stranger to yourself just because someone else forgot who you are.”

Y/N’s eyes stung. She bit her lip hard enough to leave a mark. “I just want it to go back to the way it was. Before all of this. Before I had to wonder if I was enough.”

“You are enough. Always were.”

She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

Drew let that sit there for a moment before stepping back, nodding quietly, as if he understood all too well.

“If you ever need someone to remind you who the hell you are, you know where to find me.”

Then, after one last glance at the photo frame, he left.

The second Drew stepped out of Y/N’s office, the door clicking shut behind him, a breath left his chest that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His footsteps echoed faintly down the hall, the weight of everything she didn’t say pressing down harder than the words she had managed to get out.

He had known something was wrong.

But now, he was certain: she was breaking. Quietly. Elegantly. In that terrifying way strong people fall apart—only when no one’s looking.

Drew didn’t go back to the locker room. Didn’t bother with the script changes she’d handed him. He was already moving, heading toward catering where he knew he’d find the one person who could pry open what Y/N kept sealed shut: Jessica Woynilko.

He found her perched at a table, platinum hair swept over one shoulder, AirPods in and phone in hand as she scrolled absently through social media. Her heels were kicked off beneath her chair, a cup of iced coffee melting slowly in front of her.

“Jess.”

She glanced up, brow lifting in surprise as she pulled one earbud out. “Hey. What’s up?”

Drew didn’t waste time. “It’s Y/N.”

That got her attention.

She straightened immediately, her playful ease vanishing in an instant. “What about her?”

“She’s not okay.”

Jessica blinked, slowly setting her phone down, the full weight of his tone sinking in. “What do you mean?”

Drew folded his arms, lowering his voice. “She’s trying to act like everything’s normal, but she’s worn down to the bone. Said she’s sleeping, but her hands are shaking. Said she’s eating, but I doubt she’s had more than coffee all day. That photo of her and Cody’s been facedown for who knows how long.”

Jessica’s expression hardened.

She had been watching it too, from a distance. The way Y/N stopped sitting with them at catering. The way she started staying back in her office between segments. How she laughed less. Smiled less. How her presence had dimmed.

But hearing it confirmed by someone as observant as Drew made it all feel real. Tangible.

“Has he done something?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Drew admitted. “But whatever it is, it’s killing her. She won’t say it, not yet. But you can see it in the way she moves. Like she’s carrying the weight of both of them alone.”

Jessica stood up, already gathering her things. “Where is she now?”

“In her office. But she’s got that look—the one she gets when she’s on the edge but doesn’t want anyone to see it.”

Jessica nodded, jaw set. “Then I won’t let her be alone.”

She slipped her heels back on and tossed her empty coffee into the bin before brushing past Drew.

“Oh, and Jess?”

She turned halfway back.

“If it is Cody, which I’m sure it is,” Drew added, his voice lower now, clipped and tight, “I don’t care how good his intentions were. If he let her get like this without noticing… he doesn’t deserve to be near her.”

Tiffany’s eyes flashed. “He won’t be. Not unless she says he can.”

Then she disappeared down the hallway, leaving Drew standing there, tension still coiled in his chest.

Because if there was one thing more dangerous than a woman hurt—it was the people who loved her stepping in to pick up the pieces.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The silence in her office had become a living thing.

It breathed alongside her, settled into her bones, wrapped around her like smoke. The faint hum of the computer, the gentle tick of the wall clock—none of it pierced the fog in her mind.

Y/N stared blankly at the monitor in front of her. The email she was meant to be responding to blurred out of focus, the cursor blinking endlessly like a reminder she was still here. Still functioning.

Except she wasn’t. Not really.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving, until her vision glazed. Her gaze dropped to the framed photo still facedown beside her mousepad. She reached for it but stopped halfway, her hand curling into a soft fist instead.

And just like that, she was somewhere else.

The hotel room was dimly lit by the lamp beside the bed, casting long shadows on the carpet. Y/N stood frozen by the sink, toothbrush idle in her hand, her eyes locked on the soft glow of Cody’s phone screen across the room.

She hadn't meant to look.

She wasn’t the type to snoop. She respected privacy—respected him. But she’d heard the soft chime. That familiar vibration against the wood. And when she glanced over, her stomach dropped.

Madeline.

A newer girl on RAW. Bright-eyed. Athletic. Still finding her place. Cody had mentioned her in passing before.

Her message was right there on the lock screen.

"Kinda missed you today. You gonna come say hi before call time tomorrow? You owe me a story from the plane 😘"

Y/N didn’t move for a moment. The emoji. The tone. The casual warmth. It didn’t scream affair, but it whispered something close. Something intimate. Something that used to belong to her.

The bathroom light behind her flicked off with a quiet snap.

“Hey babe,” Cody said as he stepped out, rubbing a towel through his hair, shirtless, relaxed.

She didn’t respond right away.

“Cody,” she said finally, slowly. “Why’s Madeline texting you this late?”

He paused—half a beat too long. She noticed. She always noticed.

He glanced toward the phone, saw the still-lit message, and his jaw tensed before he smoothed it away. “She’s just reaching out as one of the newbies to talk to veterans about ring advice” he said easily, shrugging like it meant nothing. “She’s cool. Young. Ambitious. Reminds me of what it was like to be starting out.”

Y/N turned slightly toward him, voice quiet but steady. “Didn’t seem like she was messaging you for advice. Sounded a little… personal.”

He chuckled. “She’s just friendly.”

“Cody…” Her fingers tightened on the counter edge. “That’s not how it reads. She misses you. Wants stories from the plane. Why is she comfortable texting you like that?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise his voice.

“Because she gets it. She understands what this life is. The pressure. The grind. She’s in it. Every day. She’s on the road. She’s tired and sore and still has to smile through press.”

He stepped closer. “You used to get it, too.”

That cut deeper than anything else. He said it like she’d aged out of relevance. Like her pain, her past, her sacrifice didn’t qualify anymore.

“I do get it,” she said, her voice cracking despite herself. “You think because I wear heels and book segments now that I forgot what it’s like to wake up sore, to miss birthdays, to be exhausted but still go out there and perform?”

He looked at her, jaw flexing. “It’s not the same anymore, Y/N.”

She blinked, as if struck.

“You’re not active,” he continued. “You don’t train the way we do now. You don’t have to get in the ring and cut a promo with jetlag, or eat a clothesline ten minutes after touching down in a new city. You just don’t… live it the way we do anymore.”

We.

Him and Madeline.

Not them—not anymore.

She swallowed, hard, her throat suddenly raw. “So that’s what this is about? You have more in common with her now?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples, already tired of the conversation. “No, it’s not like that. You’re twisting it.”

“I’m not twisting anything. I’m just trying to understand why you don’t look at me like I matter anymore.”

That made him pause. But only briefly.

He reached out, pulled her into a loose embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.

“You do matter,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “You always will. Don’t let your head make up stuff that isn’t real.”

But it was real.

His arms were around her, but his mind was somewhere else. Maybe still in the arena. Maybe still with her. His kiss didn’t linger. His hold didn’t tighten. And when he pulled away, it felt like a relief for him—not her.

She stood in the bathroom doorway after he turned off the light and crawled into bed, feeling hollow.

Because that’s when she knew.

It wasn’t physical.

But she’d already lost him.

He didn’t need to touch Madeline for it to count.

He’d already given her what used to be sacred—his softest voice, his attention, his light.

Back in her office, Y/N blinked hard, pulling herself out of the memory. Her hands were clenched in her lap, nails leaving new crescent shapes in her skin.

She used to wake up every morning excited to see him. To hear his voice. To be in the same room.

Now, when people looked at her, they didn’t see that woman anymore.

They didn’t see the softness, the warmth, the light that used to follow her like a second skin.

They just saw a woman slowly disappearing.

They saw disgust in her eyes when he spoke. And maybe it wasn’t even for him. Maybe it was for herself—for still loving a man who didn’t see her anymore.

And then a knock pulled her violently out of her own head.

“Y/N?” Jessica’s voice.

She took a shaky breath. “Come in.”

The door eased open and Tiffany stepped in quietly, her signature pink heels unusually muted against the floor, as if she was trying not to startle her. Her usual bright energy was toned down, carefully measured.

Y/N didn’t look up at first. She was still staring down at her hands, silently willing herself to get it together before she had to.

“Hey…” Jessica said gently, closing the door behind her.

Y/N’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat quickly and forced her voice to stay even. “Hey. Something wrong with your segment?”

Jessica blinked, then let out a soft, exhale-laugh. “No. Not a thing. Andrew just mentioned you seemed a little… off today, so I figured I’d check in.”

Y/N’s jaw tensed. “Drew’s being dramatic,” she murmured, grabbing a random pen off the desk just to give her hands something to do. “I’m fine. Just a long week.”

Jessica didn’t answer. She just walked slowly toward the desk, those ice-blue eyes taking in every inch of her. The slouched shoulders. The distant gaze. The thin smile that never met her eyes.

“You haven’t been fine in weeks.”

That hit harder than Y/N expected it to. She looked up sharply, but Jessica wasn’t accusing. She was just there. Solid. Soft. Concerned. And it made something ache behind Y/N’s ribs. “I’m just tired,” she tried again, shaking her head, as if the motion alone would convince them both. “It’s a lot of responsibility. It catches up sometimes, that’s all.”

Jessica leaned on the edge of the desk, one hip perched, hands folded neatly in front of her. “That’s not all.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. Her eyes burned before she could stop them. She blinked quickly, glancing away like the filing cabinet had suddenly become riveting.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Jessica said without hesitation. “I already know.”

That was the worst part. The knowing. Because she hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t said Cody’s name in this context out loud, not even once. But it was obvious. It lived in the way she carried herself. The way she didn’t walk the same anymore. How she didn’t crack jokes with the talent as often. How her backstage segments seemed shorter to avoid being out of her office. The way she was going through the motions with every bit of her but her heart.

She used to look at him with so much love, it made other people believe in forever. But not anymore. Things changed between them, and it showed. Not in her words. Not in dramatic gestures. But in the silence. The way her eyes dulled when he walked into the room. The way she always found something else to focus on when he spoke.

“I’m still trying,” Y/N whispered, voice so raw it scraped her throat. “I keep trying. But I feel like I’m screaming underwater, and he doesn’t even notice I’m drowning.”

Jessica reached across the desk and gently took Y/N’s hand in hers.

No big speech. No forced advice. Just steady, grounding warmth.

“If you ever need a break,” she said softly, “you can come stay with me. Doesn’t matter how long. You don’t even have to call. You just show up, and I’ll be there.”

Y/N finally looked at her. Really looked. And in that moment, the tears welled too fast to catch. She blinked again, a single one slipping down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away.

Jessica didn’t mention it. She just squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Even strong girls deserve to fall apart sometimes,” she said. “Especially the ones who hold everyone else together.”

Y/N nodded once, small and quick. Like if she did it too slow, she might break open. And maybe she will eventually, but at least she has friends like this to be there when she falls.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The hallway lights felt too bright.

Y/N’s boots echoed down the concrete floor of the backstage corridor, each step measured, precise, like she was holding herself together one click at a time. She’d slipped her headset off in her office, trading it for the persona everyone knew—the unshakable General Manager of SmackDown. The woman who ran the show with clean efficiency and an iron spine.

She could lie with posture. With presence. It was the only thing keeping her upright right now.

Her upcoming segment was just ahead with Solo Sikoa and Jacob Fatu—easy enough. Both men respected her deeply. They were warm, loyal, and more protective than most people gave them credit for. A couple of minutes, smile, play the part. Then she could disappear again.

She turned the corner—

And the world tilted.

There he was. Cody.

Back leaned against one of the gear crates, laughing. That deep, unrestrained laugh that used to be hers. That used to bubble out of him when she’d whisper something ridiculous in his ear during commercial breaks, when she’d tug him closer by his tie in the Gorilla position, when he was still hers.

His voice rang out. Not loud. But clear. Low and soft, like it always was when he wasn’t wearing his performer’s mask. It was the voice she used to hear whispered against her skin. The one he hadn’t used with her in weeks.

And he wasn’t alone.

Madeline. The new blonde who'd been traveling more and more lately. NXT call-up. Young, talented. Had just been transferred to SmackDown from Raw for storyline reasons, a trade Y/N wasn’t too happy about. The one Cody had insisted was "just cool to talk to."

She stood close to him. So close their shoulders nearly touched.

Y/N ducked behind a side curtain instinctively, her chest tightening as she caught their voices.

Madeline laughed first, and it was the kind of laugh meant to be heard. Light, teasing. Intimate. “You always lean in like that when you’re about to say something real, y’know that?”

Cody chuckled under his breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Madeline said softly. “It’s endearing.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t see them from where she stood, but she didn’t need to. She could hear it. That slow-rolling tone in Cody’s voice. The ease. The warmth. The attention.

It used to belong to her.

“How’s your shoulder?” Cody asked her next.

“Better. You were right about that stretch,” Madeline replied. “See? I listen when you give advice.”

There was a pause. “Wish more people did,” he muttered, almost too low to catch.

Madeline stepped in closer; Y/N could hear the shift in her voice. “Is this about Y/N?”

Silence.

Y/N’s hands gripped the clipboard so tight the metal clip dug into her palm.

“She’s just… different lately,” Cody finally said, and his voice carried a weight it hadn’t in weeks. “I don’t think she gets how much pressure I’m under sometimes.”

Madeline gave a breathy hum. “Because she’s not in the ring anymore?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “Exactly. She used to understand. But now it’s like… everything I do is under a microscope. She’s constantly asking if I’m okay, if I’m tired, if I’m ‘still here.’ Like—”

“Like you’re being guilt-tripped for doing your job,” Madeline finished for him.

Y/N’s throat went dry.

“She used to be proud of me,” Cody said. “Now all she sees is what I’m not doing.”

“I see you,” Madeline whispered.

The words cut like glass. Y/N stepped back, breath shuddering in her chest. Her nails bit into the clipboard hard enough to leave crescent marks in the wood. She blinked fast, fighting the sting building in her eyes. She couldn’t cry now. Not here.

She wouldn’t give them that.

Her feet moved before her brain could catch up. One step. Then another. Until she rounded the corner and—

Slammed her shoulder straight into Cody’s.

Harder than necessary.

His eyes snapped up, startled. Madeline’s smile faltered as Y/N brushed past them without a word, her face impassive. Professional. Untouchable.

But inside? Inside, she was screaming.

Y/N swallowed hard, blinking the blur from her vision as she moved through the next hallway like a ghost, her stilettos clicking too loudly over concrete.

The voices behind her faded, replaced by the thrum of adrenaline and lighting cues. Blue strobes flashed from the entrance curtain, her cue. She adjusted the jacket of her fitted navy pantsuit, ran her tongue along her teeth, and bit the inside of her cheek until the sting chased off the ache in her chest.

She was still the SmackDown General Manager. Even if she felt like a stranger in her own body.

“Y/N.”

Solo’s deep voice cut through the noise as she stepped into gorilla. His brow furrowed immediately when he saw her face. Beside him, Jacob Fatu leaned forward from the equipment case he’d been perched on, brows raising in sync.

“You good, sweetheart?” Solo asked lowly, his tone rough around the edges but concerned.

Y/N gave a tight smile. “Fine.”

She always said it the same way. Controlled. Too quick.

Jacob stood, his wide frame casting a shadow over the monitors. “You sure?” he asked, tipping his chin toward her. “’Cause looks like you bouta kill somebody.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, jaw stiff.

Solo folded his arms across his chest, the Samoan tattoos flexing with the movement. “You don’t look fine.”

Y/N blinked hard, then exhaled through her nose. “I just need to get through this segment. Don’t worry about me.”

Jacob exchanged a glance with his cousin. “Someone botherin’ you?”

She didn’t answer.

Solo leaned in, voice gruff. “Say the word. We’ll handle it.”

Y/N finally turned to them. Her shoulders sank, just a little. It wasn’t a full crack in the armor, but it was something. She gave them a tired, grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate it. But I can handle myself.”

Jacob muttered something under his breath. She didn’t catch all of it, but she heard enough to know it involved someone getting their jaw rocked.

Solo didn’t speak again. He just stepped slightly in front of her, like a human wall, shielding her from wandering eyes backstage as her music hit and the crowd roared.

She stood behind him in the gorilla position, breathing deep, her hands shaking slightly at her sides.

He used to look at me like that. That’s all she could think. Cody used to look at her the way he looked at Madeline. And now he barely looked at her at all.

The red light above the entrance blinked. They were live.

Y/N plastered on a smile, lifted her chin, and started their segment.

Her heart stayed behind.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody’s eyes remained locked on the hallway where Y/N had disappeared. His brow furrowed, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold something together.

Madeline tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. “C’mon, it’s not that serious. She barely even touched you.”

Cody shook his head slightly. “It’s just… not like her, that’s all. Normally she would say something.”

“She’s been moody for weeks, Cody,” Madeline said, voice dropping to something sugar-sweet and venom-laced. “Let’s not pretend she’s been this ray of sunshine lately. Maybe if she lightened up a little—”

“She’s under a lot of pressure,” he murmured. “So am I.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “Exactly. We are. She’s not the only one who’s allowed to be tired. You can’t keep breaking yourself in half for someone who doesn’t even see what you’re giving.” Her eyes rolls as she tries to calm the man, “I mean, I’ll give her her flowers or whatever, she did what she did for the business, but that was years ago. The landscape has changed. She can’t be mad just because she can’t keep up anymore.”

Before Cody could respond, a low voice cut in behind them.

“Oi.”

Cody turned around to see Drew McIntyre heading their way, broad shoulders squared and gait deliberate. He didn’t look pissed exactly, but he sure as hell didn’t look friendly.

“Hey, what’s up, man?” Cody greeted, offering a casual half-smile.

Drew stopped a few feet away, eyes flicking briefly to Madeline before settling on Cody with a weight that could crush stone. “Was just wonderin’,” he said, voice quiet but steady, “how long you’ve been actin’ like a right knob.”

Cody blinked, unsure if he’d heard him right. “What?”

Drew gestured vaguely down the hallway where Y/N had gone. “She just walked past me lookin’ like the world collapsed under her feet. Eyes glassy, like she was hangin’ on by a bloody thread.”

Cody’s smile faded. “I… I don’t know what’s goin’ on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

“Aye,” Drew said with a nod, “and why d’you think that is?”

Cody shrugged, caught off guard. “Drew, I didn’t do anything—”

“Exactly,” Drew cut in, stepping forward. “You didn’t do a damn thing. Not when it mattered.”

Madeline huffed. “Oh for god’s sake—”

“D’you mind?” Drew snapped without even looking at her. “If I wanted the opinion of a homewrecker I’dve asked sweetheart. Though I s’pose desperation has no bounds.”

Madeline took a step back, bristling, but went quiet.

Drew turned his attention back to Cody, voice quieter but somehow heavier. “You know how many times I’ve seen her sat in that office late as hell, starin’ at her phone like she’s waitin’ for it to ring? Seen her fake a smile so no one asks what’s wrong?”

Cody frowned, defensive. “Drew, come on—”

“She used to glow when you were around, mate,” Drew said, jabbing a finger toward him. “Now she walks through this place like a bloody ghost. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t breathe right.”

Cody looked away, jaw tightening.

“You think she doesn’t notice you whisperin’ with her all the time?” Drew jerked his chin toward Madeline. “You think she doesn’t see the way you look at her like you used to look at Y/N?”

“That’s not fair,” Cody muttered.

“What’s not fair,” Drew said, stepping in closer now, voice low and firm, “is makin’ a woman like that feel like she’s not enough. What’s not fair is watchin’ her give up everythin’ — her career, her family, her goddamn confidence — just to be with you, and you treat her like a bloody inconvenience.”

Madeline finally found her voice again. “Maybe she should’ve toughened up if she wanted to be with someone in this business.”

Drew’s head turned slowly toward her, and the glare he gave her could’ve frozen a bonfire. “Maybe you should shut your gob before you say somethin’ that gets your ass dropped backstage.”

She blinked, stunned silent.

Then Drew turned back to Cody, shaking his head slowly.

“You were supposed to be the dream, aye? The man with the legacy, the heart, the bloody purpose,” he said. “But lately, you’re just a coward in a nice suit, hidin’ behind excuses and cheap smiles.”

Cody’s voice was tight now. “Drew, this isn’t your business.”

“It became my business the second you broke her,” Drew growled. “And believe me when I say — if we weren’t live right now, I’d have put you through the floor by now.”

Cody stared at him, speechless.

Drew didn’t wait for a response. He turned, but not before delivering one last blow.

“You don’t deserve her,” he said, eyes cold. “You never did.”

And with that, he walked off down the corridor, leaving silence — and guilt — in his wake.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The Atlanta air hung thick and still, the early evening sun casting a golden haze across the quiet suburban street. The usual hum of the neighborhood felt far away as Y/N stood in the center of the living room she’d once called home — their home.

Cody hadn’t come back since the show wrapped a few hours ago. Jess had known he wouldn’t. That’s why she’d insisted they do it now.

“He’s probably still out with her,” Jessica said softly as she taped the last box shut, her words gentle but edged with protective fire. “Let’s just get your things and go before he gets the chance to stop you.”

Y/N didn’t respond at first. She just stood there, eyes fixed on a framed photo of her and Cody from last year’s WrestleMania afterparty — her sitting on his shoulders in the middle of the ring, champagne in hand, the brightest smile on her face. That version of them felt like a lifetime ago.

“I saw them,” she finally whispered.

Jess paused, eyes flicking toward her. “You mean backstage?”

Y/N gave a small, shaky nod as she wrapped the picture in a towel and placed it in a box, not because she wanted to save it, but because throwing it away felt too heavy in that moment.

“She was leaned in so close,” Y/N said, voice thick with the memory. “Laughing at everything he said. And he let her. He let her be close. He looked… happy. The way he used to look at me when we were just starting out. Before everything.”

Jess moved to her side, gently placing a hand on her back.

“They were talking like they’d known each other forever. I heard her say she gets him — that she understands him. And he didn’t even correct her. Just smiled like she was right.” Her voice broke slightly. “I wanted to scream at him. Remind him that I used to wrestle. That I do get it. But none of it would’ve mattered.”

Y/N looked down, tears brimming in her lashes but not falling yet. “He hasn’t seen me in months, Jess. Not really. He kisses me out of basic relationship expectations. He talks to me like I’m a schedule to manage. I don’t know when I stopped being enough for him.”

Jessica didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled her into a hug, arms strong around her shoulders as Y/N finally let the tears fall.

“You didn’t stop being enough,” she murmured fiercely. “He just stopped seeing the gold in what he had. You deserve more than scraps of love, Y/N. You deserve the whole damn thing.”

Y/N wiped at her cheeks again as she and Jessica carried the last of the boxes out of the house. The sun had nearly dipped below the skyline now, casting long shadows over the driveway of what had once been a home. It felt empty already, even though the walls were still standing.

They reached the cars, and Jess moved to open the back of her SUV when the distant rumble of a truck made Y/N freeze mid-step. Her heart thudded. For a terrifying second, she thought it might be Cody.

But then the familiar black pickup rolled up and came to a gentle stop by the curb.

Drew.

She didn’t even need to ask how he knew. Jessica had always been her ride or die — and when it came to Drew, the loyalty extended far deeper. He killed the engine and stepped out slowly, his expression unreadable as he took them in — the packed boxes, the way Y/N looked like she’d cried herself hollow.

Y/N stood still, arms wrapped around herself. Her fingers clenched the hem of her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her from unraveling. She hadn’t planned on seeing him tonight, not like this — not when she felt so raw, so undone.

But Drew didn’t speak at first.

He just walked up and wrapped his arms around her.

And Y/N broke.

Her fingers dug into the back of his flannel shirt as a sob ripped silently through her. There were no loud gasps or hysterics — just the kind of grief that made her body fold in on itself. Her face pressed into his chest as he held her tighter, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice thick and low in his chest. “I’ve got you, hen. Let it out.”

She did.

It was all too much — the way Cody smiled at another woman like she was his light, the way he used to smile at her. The way he made her feel like a burden for just wanting to be seen. Like she was always too much, or not enough.

She’d been holding it in for weeks. But now, in Drew’s arms, it crashed out of her in waves.

“I loved him,” she whispered, her voice so small it almost didn’t carry. “I loved him so much I stopped recognizing myself. I changed everything for him. Moved here. Stopped seeing my family as much to spend time with his. I gave him everything I had, Drew.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his blue eyes stormy and soft all at once.

“And he gave his attention to someone else,” he said grimly. “I saw it. Tonight. Clear as bloody day.”

“I don’t think he even knows me anymore,” Y/N choked out, shaking her head. “And the worst part? I still love him. Even after all of this.”

Drew exhaled hard through his nose, jaw tightening. He reached out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering against her cheek.

“Of course you do. Love like that doesn’t just vanish overnight. But love’s supposed to build you up, not gut you like this.” His voice softened, thick with emotion. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, but even the strongest need someone who’ll fight for them — not make them feel invisible.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glossy and full of guilt and heartbreak. “I don’t know how to be okay without him,” she confessed.

Drew stepped closer, his forehead gently pressing to hers. “You don’t need to be okay tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight you just need to breathe. I’ll be here. Every step of the way. And I swear on my mother’s life, I’ll never let anyone make you feel this way again.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said it — so certain, so sincere — made something break wide open inside her. But this time, it wasn’t pain. It was relief.

She nodded, closing her eyes against his. They stood there for a long, quiet moment as the sky darkened above them.

Eventually, Jessica gently cleared her throat.

“We should go,” she said softly, eyes damp with her own emotion.

Y/N stepped away from Drew, just enough to meet his eyes again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me for giving a damn about you, lass,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek with a tenderness that made her want to cry all over again. “That’s what love’s supposed to look like. Even if it’s just from a friend.”

She didn’t reply — just gave him the faintest, most broken smile. Then she turned toward the car.

As they pulled out of the driveway, she looked back once — at the house where she once believed forever lived. Her heart ached violently in her chest. Not because she hated him. But because she didn’t.

Because despite everything, she still loved him.

But she couldn’t keep living like she was less than what she gave.

So she turned her gaze forward, to the road ahead — and drove away.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody fumbled with the front door key, still rattled from Drew’s outburst earlier that night.

The confrontation had hit something deep. He couldn’t shake the anger in Drew’s voice, or the words “You don’t deserve someone like her.”

Cody had replayed it in his head the whole drive home, trying to convince himself Drew was being overdramatic, or misinformed, or both. He was going to talk to Y/N — figure out what the hell was going on between them. He still didn’t fully get why she’d looked at him like that backstage. Like she didn’t recognize him. Like she hated him.

The lock clicked open and he stepped inside.

The silence was immediate. Too immediate.

No soft music playing from the kitchen speaker. No lights left on. No smell of her favorite lavender candle she always lit after a show.

He stepped deeper in, his boots heavy against the hardwood.

Then it hit him.

The coat rack by the door — empty.

The shelf by the stairs where she kept her keys and lanyards — bare.

His heart dropped.

He moved fast now, heading toward the living room, the hallway, the bedroom. Every room was the same — clean, untouched… and hollow.

Her stuff was gone.

All of it.

The dresser drawers she used. Empty. Her makeup bag on the bathroom counter? Gone. The framed photo of the two of them at Mania, the one where he was lifting her up, both grinning like fools? Removed. A faint square of dust where the frame had been.

It was like she had never lived there.

Cody stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom, throat tightening, pulse starting to race. “Y/N?” he called out instinctively, even though he already knew.

She was gone.

No note. No message.

Just... gone.

His heart thudded in his chest like a warning siren. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He sat down on the bed — their bed — and buried his face in his hands.

And that’s when it hit him. Everything. Every moment he’d dismissed. Every time he told her it was “nothing.” Every time he told himself she was being insecure when she was just trying to be seen.

The flirtatious messages. The way he smiled when Madeline got his jokes. The way he let her linger too close, too long. And worst of all — the way he’d looked at her backstage tonight, like she was the only person in the room.

He hadn’t cheated, right?

Had he given another woman parts of himself that Y/N had been starving to reach?

Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t realize what he had done to push away the love of his life. And now… she was gone.

He stood up in a daze and grabbed his phone, texting her.

CODY: Y/N. Where are you? Can we talk? Please.

No response.

He texted Jess. Nothing.

He tried again. Called her. Voicemail.

Then he started texting everyone. Joseph. Kevin. Pamela. Jonathan. Trinity. Paul. Anyone who might’ve known where she went.

Nobody knew.

Only one clue stood out — Jess hadn’t even opened his message. And she always opened her messages.

So he figured it out.

She was with Jess.

And there was only one place talent was staying in Atlanta tonight.

He remembered exactly which hotel it was, Y/N pretty much having to beg the higher ups to allow them to book with this hotel. It was closer to the arena than the other one they had wanted to stay with.

That was always Y/N’s thing, fighting for the benefit of others even when it had nothing to do with her.

Cody rushed through the lobby the minute he got there, barely acknowledging the concierge as he made his way to the elevators. He knew the floor. Knew how Jess told Y/N the exact room she’d be staying in when she booked the room. And he’d remembered meeting her in this exact hallway at the beginning of their relationship.

The night he first kissed her actually.

When he reached the door, his hand hovered.

He hesitated — just for a second.

Then he knocked.

It opened a beat later. Jessica stood there, arms folded, expression hard as stone. “Why are you here?” she asked coldly.

“I need to see her,” Cody said. His voice cracked. “Please. Just… just for a minute.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had years of minutes, Cody. And you wasted them.”

“I just—” His voice faltered. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize she was hurting like that.”

“That’s the problem,” Jess snapped. “You didn’t notice. You never noticed.”

Cody’s mouth opened to respond when a familiar voice interrupted.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Drew stepped into view from deeper in the room, his posture tense, shoulders squared like a wall of fury barely contained.

Cody’s chest tightened. “I just wanna talk to her.”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Andrew growled. “Especially not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Cody shouted back.

“Aye, but that’s the bloody point, isn’t it?” Drew snapped. “You didn’t do anything. You let her wither away while you smiled at another lass like she was the center of your world.”

Jessica put a hand on Drew’s arm, trying to keep him steady, but it was Y/N’s voice that cut through the tension.

“It’s okay.”

Everyone turned.

Y/N stood behind them, quiet in the doorway of the room. She wore a soft hoodie and shorts, bare feet tucked slightly together, arms wrapped around her middle like she needed to hold herself together.

She looked so small. So tired. And so heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Jess. Drew. It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said quietly, eyes lingering on Drew with a look of silent gratitude.

They stepped aside.

And Y/N stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door quietly behind her before turning to face him. She looks like someone who has spent every ounce of strength holding it together — and she’s still doing it, even now.

Cody can barely breathe as he looks at her.

"You’re really gone," he says again, quieter this time. Like maybe if he says it softly enough, it won’t be real.

She nods, her eyes glassy but dry. “Yeah.”

“I—I came home and it was like you’d vanished. Not a note. Not even a—” He stops himself, a shaky breath catching in his throat. “Why didn’t you leave me something?”

She gives a broken smile. “Because I knew if I wrote anything down, I’d stay. And I can’t keep staying in a house where I don’t recognize the person I built it with.”

His face falls. “Y/N, please… just yell at me. Be mad. Hate me, even. I deserve it. But please don’t do this. Just come back home.”

“I can’t come home, Cody.” She shakes her head slowly, lips trembling. “But I’m not angry at you.”

"Then what are you?" he asks, voice nearly cracking.

“I’m heartbroken,” she breathes. “But not angry. Because how can I be mad at you for giving yourself to someone else… when I’m the one who just watched you slip away piece by piece?”

Cody’s eyes shut tight. “Don’t say that.”

“I begged you,” she continues, voice rising just a bit, raw around the edges. “I begged you without ever saying a word. I touched your hand and waited for you to hold it back. I looked at you and waited for you to see me. But your eyes always drifted somewhere else. To someone else.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Cody says quickly, almost defensive. “I didn’t touch her. I never crossed that line.”

Y/N’s smile this time is heartbreaking. “There are worse things than touching, Cody.”

Silence.

“You used to look at me like I was your home,” she whispers. “Now everyone just sees distance in your eyes when you look my way — and that’s if you look at all.”

He swallows hard. “I never meant for it to get like this.”

“But it did,” she says, her voice cracking. “You stopped choosing me. And I stayed. I stayed and twisted myself into someone quieter, someone easier to love. I gave you every piece of me I had left.”

“I was stressed,” Cody mutters, stepping forward. “Between the title runs, the travel—”

“No,” she cuts him off. “Don’t you dare blame this on your schedule. I was there. Always. I didn’t need grand gestures. I needed you to talk to me. To look at me the way you looked at her tonight.”

He flinches. “That wasn’t—”

“She leaned in so close,” Y/N whispers, more to herself now. “And you let her. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t flinch. You smiled.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did,” she says, her voice sharp now. “You hurt me every time you brushed me off. Every time I said ‘I love you’ and you kissed me like it was just… Like it was part of the routine, not something you felt.”

Cody is crying now. He wipes his face roughly.

“I still love you.”

She looks at him, wounded, gentle. “I don’t think you even know what that means anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” he begs.

“You want me to be mad?” she says, stepping closer, her voice dropping. “You want me to scream? Shatter something? I can’t. Because I’m not angry that you loved someone else. I’m devastated that you stopped loving me… and I didn’t even notice when it happened. That’s how slowly you left.”

He drops his head, sobs shaking his shoulders.

She exhales shakily, reaching up to wipe a tear of her own. “You kept looking for someone who understood your world. And I did, Cody. I thrived in this business. I lived it. I still do — just not in the way you do anymore. And when I tried to talk to you about it, you made me feel like I was just some ghost story. Like the time, the toll my body took meant nothing just because I can’t do it anymore.”

“I never wanted you to feel like that—”

“But you didn’t stop it, either,” she says. “You didn’t stop anything.”

There’s a long, weighted silence.

Finally, she whispers, “I would’ve done anything to make you happy. But you never paid close enough attention to see that I was trying.”

Cody’s voice is barely a rasp. “I didn’t know I was losing you.”

Her lip quivers. “You didn’t even know you had me.”

That’s what finally breaks him.

He steps back, one hand clutching his chest like he’s trying to hold in the ache. “Please… please don’t go.”

“I already did,” she says softly. “And it came down to this for you to finally notice.”

She looks at him one last time — really looks at him. And then she turns. “Goodbye Cody.”

Then she walks back inside. The door closes behind her. And Cody stands in the hallway, alone with every word he never said.

The door clicks shut with a soft click as she re-enters Jessica’s room. The silence that greets her is thick, humming low in the aftermath of everything that was said in the hallway.

Jessica’s nowhere to be seen — the muffled sound of running water from the bathroom the only sign she’s still here.

But Andrew is there.

Sitting in the corner chair near the window, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced, waiting like he promised he would.

He looks up as she enters, and when he sees her — red-eyed, fragile, shaken — his entire frame softens.

“Hey,” he says, low and warm. “You okay?”

It’s such a simple question.

But it’s asked with such honesty that Y/N has to pause before answering. Her throat tightens.

“No,” she admits quietly. “But I think… I’m breathing again.”

Drew gives a small nod, like he understands more than he lets on. He stands slowly, not rushing her, not pushing. Just being there.

She doesn’t move at first. She’s still holding onto the tension from her conversation with Cody — the ghost of what once was pressing against her chest.

Drew takes a small step forward. “C’mere.”

Y/N doesn’t even hesitate.

She walks straight into his arms.

And he catches her like he’s done it a hundred times before. His embrace is firm but gentle — arms around her back, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as she presses her face into his chest. The scent of him is familiar now: crisp cologne and warmth. The kind of safety you don’t realize you’ve been craving until it’s wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small. “For all of this. For dragging you into it.”

“You didn’t drag me,” Drew murmurs into her hair. “I walked. Gladly.”

Y/N lets her eyes close. His heartbeat is steady against her cheek.

She’s quiet for a long beat before her voice finds her again. “He said he didn’t know he was losing me.”

Drew pulls back just enough to look at her. His hand stays gently on her jaw, thumb brushing just beneath her eye, catching the tear that slips free despite her efforts.

“He lost you the second he stopped making you feel chosen,” he says softly. “And anyone who can look at you and not know what they’ve got in front of them… doesn’t deserve to hold onto you.”

Her breath shudders, “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” Drew says. “People are the ones that complicate it.”

Their eyes lock. And something in the air shifts. Just enough to be felt. His hand is still on her face. She doesn’t pull away. Neither of them do.

Y/N blinks slowly. “Why do you always know what to say?”

“I don’t always know what to say,” he says simply. “I just know you.”

That lands harder than she expects. She exhales a laugh that’s more of a sigh — sad but grateful. Her hands are still on his chest, fingers curled slightly into his shirt like she’s afraid to let go too quickly.

“Stay?” she asks softly. “Just… sit with me for a bit?”

Drew smiles. “Aye. As long as you want.”

He leads her to the bed, sitting beside her — not touching now, just near. Close enough that she could lean on him if she wanted. Close enough to feel his presence anchoring her.

And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, Y/N doesn’t feel quite so alone.

Outside the window, the city hums.

Inside, she breathes.

And Drew stays — a steady presence beside her, saying nothing more.

But somehow saying everything.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 20

This one is a bit shorter than the last 🫠

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 20 >>next

The interaction between you and Nolan was still awkward. It was weird to see him this soft and you still felt on edge like you couldn’t quite believe all it took for him to try and do better was some talking to- Bruce didn’t even let you say more than a sentence in his presence, let alone get emotional about things and try to have a conversation about it.

Overall, the past week you’ve been kind of disassociating while working on rebuilding, occupying your time with that and helping Andressa take care of the baby, occasionally texting Debbie anything from updates to “I miss you”, to “I miss your food”, to cute pictures of the little menace being funny, kept you somewhat present-minded.

Your eyes drifted to Andressa, who has been aging more and more. Her movements were slowing down, she was getting more tired, and she was having more problems with her joints. You noticed that with everyone. The kids who helped you sometimes were now teens, the babies were slowly becoming toddlers, and yet your little brother was still in the baby range.

Andressa calling your name brought you back to reality. Your eyes meet as she sighs, sitting on an armchair while you keep playing with her baby’s hair, twirling it into spikes and horns. “I… I need to ask a big favor out of you and your family.” She starts softly, her finger tapping nervously. You stop and give her all the attention as she continues speaking.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Debbie’s day has been… better. It’s all getting better. Slowly, but she’s getting there. She wanted to be petty and give Nolan’s things away, but she had a feeling he’d be coming back with you and Mark, so she did the next best thing and moved his stuff into the smallest bedroom. Well, it was more of an office with a beat-up couch; he didn’t deserve an actual bedroom.

And in hindsight, she was glad she did. “Well… he is cute.” She concedes while smiling softly as the toddler cooed up at her, all coddled up in her lap. Her hand gently ran across his small back. Andressa just smiles. “Thank you. And thank you for wanting to hear me out and for letting me into your home. I know I’m asking for a lot, for way too much even considering everything- but Nolan isn’t exactly the best at being present enough for a kid.”

Debbie laughed at that. “Yeah, I know. Can’t count the times I had to step in for things he promised Mark.” You smiled softly as the two women got along, laughing at Nolan’s actions and awkwardness towards raising the babies. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve gotta go back and make sure the men don’t find us plotting against them.” You joked while opening a portal.

“Bye, sweetheart, make sure your brother eats lunch! Oh, was Nolan scared of holding him? Because he was terrified of holding Mark as a baby- you should have seen him- I think I have some photos-“ You snickered, finally leaving the two to their gossiping.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark and Nolan were too busy helping rebuild buildings to notice you and Andressa being missing. Granted, some men are the biggest gossipers known to mankind. “Yeah, so your dear daughter took a plate of these mini cakes and just smashed it across Bruce’s face- mushing it around. Lex was having a field day. It was so weird to see him so genuinely happy.”

“Is there video footage of it? I would love to see that.” Nolan laughs along. “Dude, there’s so much footage- Lex has like fifteen to thirty cameras in a room, he made compilations of it!” Mark looks at the smiling man. “He even had a camera in the buttons of his suit. He gave that first-row view of the cake smash to the highest bidder.”

“And he still shares the memes on his social media.” Your voice cut through their laughter, making the young man snort. “No! He still does? Is he set on never making Bruce forget that?” Nolan looks at his cackling son. “Would you let the man forget that?” His smirk only gets wider as his son beams with a no.

Nolan gently nudged you away as he told Mark to take a break. “We need to talk.” You pouted at his words while landing on a rooftop. “We talked.” Your grumble was met with a raised eyebrow. “No. We fought, and then you interrogated me about the Justice League.” He chides. “We need to have a serious talk.”

The old Viltrumite could see the nervousness and doubt in you. So, he wanted to make sure you knew where you stood. “I know my actions hurt you in ways I don’t think will be fully salvageable. I won’t try to justify myself, I won’t try to tell you that you’re wrong for feeling any negative sentiments towards me. You have every right to because you are correct in your points. I was a coward, I should have gone to the guardians and faced their ire. I should have trusted that you and Mark had my back.”

“No matter what, if you hate me, if you don’t want to see me again, you’ll always be my daughter, my baby.” The hand he put on your shoulder was warm and slightly shaky, betraying how nervous he actually felt. “I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what, no matter how hard you try to push me away. I’ll make sure to repent for my mistakes towards you, Mark, and Debbie for the rest of my life.”

“Stop it.” You sniff. “You’ll make me cry again. And damn right you’ll repent for what you did. I’ll make sure of it.” He smiles as you gently slap his arm. “I’ll hold you to it.” His eyebrows furrowed, asking if you had seen Andressa since she hadn’t come to check up on them in a while. “She’s taking a nap. Don’t disturb your baby mama, ass.” You roll your eyes while lifting off the ground, flying away as the man pouts.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Harvey Dent raised an eyebrow at the message he received, a shit-eating grin overtaking his mug. “Looks like our little magic girl is coming back to the planet in a few days. With a few stowaways.” Two-Face shows the message to Jason. “How mad do you think Bruce will be?”

Jason just gives the man an evil smile. “Very.” The young man almost purrs as he begins giggling, laughing as if he was snorting Joker Gas. Roy Harper just looks at the scene with a shaky smile. “Ok… I think I need someone to spill some tea about what’s happening.” Harvey just scoffs. “Take a seat if you really want to know. It’s a long story.”

Roy just shrugs, pulling the chair out and dropping into it. "I think you're just exaggerating there, law man." That seems to only make Jason laugh harder, creating doubt into the young father. "Oh- you'll regret saying that by the time we're done." Our favorite crime lord counters, snickering as he pours his friend a glass of whiskey.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

How aware is Dragon!Ford of how dragon-brained he is regarding Stan? 🤣

Just imagining Poor Fiddleford dealing with a dragon who is able to find justifications for everything Stan does, and then some, AND verbalize it, is making me laugh so hard.

Fiddleford: What were you even tryin' to accomplish! Letting him wander around breaking things!

Dragon Ford: First of all, my Stan can do whatever he wants(except leave), second of all, my belongings are his belongings, third of all, he's only destroying things of little value(because of the Stan Effect everything is worth so much less in comparison to Stan), forth of all--

Fiddleford: 🫠

(Due to the Stan Effect, everything in the castle appears to be of low value. This is because Stan is a statistical outlier, and should not have been counted./ref)

Dragon Ford's awareness of how dragon brained he's being is like the nagging feeling you're forgetting something, but not sure what. Every now and then Ford will have a moment of 'Wait, Stan's my brother, I can't keep him here if he wants to go?" that is immediately crushed by the thought of 'what am i saying! Of course i have to keep him here! He's my brother!' That little piece of his original human mind is constantly yelling at the rest of him to get it together and work on breaking his curse. The greater part of him is too busy trailing Stan like he's the axolotl's gift to the world to care about his silly curse.

Fiddleford (and Emma-May to a lesser extent, as she interacts less with Stan due to not having a physical body and therefore can't prevent him from escaping without possessing him which doesnt make anyone happy) hate Fords train of logic and neverending list of excuses for Stan's behavior. Mostly because half the time they can't even argue with him about it. Yes, nothing in the castle that Stan is that valuable, and its also Fords so its fine, and they did kidnap him and are holding him prisoner so its a little much to expect him to be cooperative all the time.

Doesnt make Stan any less of a nuisance at times.

(The Stan effect is the bane of Fiddlefords existence. Yes, Stan's very important and special and your brother. Now please stop giving him swords to swing at all the furniture. Other people live here. Some of them children.

Ford: No.)

[th0rnback]

Do you have any headcanons that tend to translate into your writing?

Oooooo, that is a good'un. I’ve been in this fandom so long sometimes I forget what is headcanon and what’s canon 🫠

Buuuuut, I’m sure some of these might be shared with lots of folks, yet off the top of my head:

⭕Edward wears gloves not so much to hide his automail, but to soften it. Metal joints pinch. He learned this the hard way when shaking someone’s hand. It genuinely upset/embarrassed/made him self conscious for a while after that event. ⭕Alphonse always like the barn cats since he was small, yet moreso after Trisha’s death. He liked to entice them into the house of an evening for the warmth and comfort. The house didn’t feel quiet so empty when filled with a patter of paws or rumbling purrs.

⭕Ed’s an ugly crier and he is SUPER self aware of this fact, while he is trying to ‘keep a stiff upper lip’ he also has the worse poker face known to mankind (which I guess can be canon? Because the sweet bean was a mess at Trisha’s funeral, howling at the sky with snot) ⭕Al, even when human and back when kids, is the better liar. He’s got a good poker face (even without the helm) and the street cred of polite sweetness.

⭕Roy hides it well and because irony is key: Roy gets anxious around horses. As a kid a mounted MP’s horse nipped him and Chris presumed this is why he is still Not A Fan of the hooved beasts…. In reality, watching a group of Ishvalan’s get trampled when the cavalry arrived on scene made him realize how terrifyingly powerful such animals are (cue his anxiety over FoM!Ed being so tiny around an animal with hooves bigger than the kids skull)   ⭕ Riza doesn't like being ignored. She can deal with it, but it does make her hackles rise. There is something about being so blankly disregarded she finds as rude yet know, deep known, its because she spent too much of her youth with a father who barely spared her a glance, absorbed in his work... until he suddenly was like ''yo lovely daughter, need to borrow that skin on your back for a second'' ⭕Riza is very good at leg sweeping, hip checking, or just thwacking the back of Roy's knees because when he came to live as her father's apprentice at their crumbling rural manor house, she took great joy tripping him up in the corridors to the point it became a game.

⭕Havoc was nominated for first aider training for their unit. He drew the short straw. Hated every second of the weekend long training he got shoved into. The team make frequent jokes they were hoping to improve his experience, as his dating life is piss-poor and doing CPR would be is only form of ‘kissing’.

⭕ Riza’s a tea-a-holic (which could be canon? Girl be drinking tea in a lot of manga panels). She likes tea due to the variety of scents and finds the method of brewing/preparing it as a form of decompression/keeps her mind blank and hands busy because there are only many times she can dismantling and cleaning her service weapons to a pristine condition before someone presumes she has OCD.

⭕Roy isn’t very good with the scent of fatty meat being cooked. He can deal with it, but sometimes, on The Bad Days™the scent can send him reeling. (This was mostly inspired given how my paternal grandfather was a tank-man during ww2 and my uncle had the horrors of playing with flame throwers in other dumb-mens-wars and neither of them could cope with the smell of smoked bacon of fat-heavy meat).

⭕Fuery is blind AF without his glasses…. Probably me projecting like hell as poor sighted dweeb with thick glasses and also how I HATE that characters in fiction get their glasses off and can FUNCTION DURING CHAOS??? LIKE, NO. EVERYTHING IS BLURRY AND SCARY. MATE, I ONCE LOST MY GLASSES IN THE AMAZING MAZE OF MAIZE AND I FELT LIKE I WAS IN THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE. Also, during a paintball match, I had to forgo my glasses because the eye protective googles didn’t like me wearing them, so I was just blindly taking people out and running into trees, but that’s another story. Rant over.

⭕Maes & Gracia had experienced pregnancy loss before they finally had Elicia: its why the two of them cherish her so much

Annnnnd... I'll stop. Otherwise we are gonna end up with a sickeningly large amount and I fear I'll bore you. 💖

[xo-cod]

would you write something about casual intimacy with simon please??🥹🫠

i'm in love with casual intimacy :") hope you enjoy babe <33 i couldn't pick one so i did a bunch but lmk if you'd like a specific scenario 🤍

rushed/ooc as usual.

affection and attention had been something the masked soldier had struggled with for years. he naturally had been closed off and reserved at the start, he didn't care much for intimacy having never truly finding it in his life. but when you entered his life, it'd all changed him completely

simon riley who disliked being caught in hugs and being squeezed, who grew to become incredibly uncomfortable and awkward around hugs and physical touch now came home from a long and hard day of work to actively seek you out and just collapse onto you in a heap, cuddling you close to his chest falling asleep on you. feeling as safe as ever between your arms

simon riley who was an incredibly observant man, who was known on picking up on the small habits others around him did even if they weren't aware of it casually and silently handing you glasses of water or food throughout the day because he knows you might tend to forget or you didn't have a good habit of remembering when to do so.

simon riley who had an intelligent yet busy mind, filled to the brim of placements on how to take down the target as efficiently as possible and how better to inflict the worst torture on his enemy carried space to memorise your coffee/tea order, making sure it was just the right temperature for you to drink and the correct amount of sweetener (or none) so you didn't have to top up

simon riley who everytime you both spoke couldn't help but fidget slightly with you purely out of love. who noticed everytime a strand had been out of place and delicately brushing it back as you spoke to him, continuing to listen intently but making sure your hair remained as perfect as ever

simon riley who was a natural born leader and protector, who lead his team along with price through countless battles and ensuring every last of his men came back to safety now couldn't stop protecting you no matter what. holding your hand securely with his fingers toying with yours or a gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you through the crowd of the streets, keeping you safe and close by at all times

simon riley who didn't laugh much through his youth or a fair share of his adulthood, never being able to find that connection and keeping to himself now gently nudged your calf with his foot under the table everytime soap and gaz did something stupid knowing it was funny but wouldn't give them the ego boost so he kept it to you solely. or his linking his foot with yours from the opposite side even if it was unknowingly because his body craved your warmth, some part of him having to touch you no matter what

or simon riley who was incredibly strong and who scoffed at the sight of couples, who thought he didn't need someone else now enjoyed resting his head gently on your lap whenever he had the chance. his fingers laced with yours as he brought the back of your palm for a soft kiss, still not used to the fact that you were his and he was yours.

simon riley loved different than most, initially he had been too worried to even reciprocate any feelings because he was damaged. some parts of his past couldn't be healed and he swore up and down he could never do to uou what his father did to his mother. some days were easy and others were hard, some days he sought out your touch other days he needed to be alone for a while to decompress.

but even in those silent moments, there was love.

he learnt that perhaps love itself didn't have to be made of grand gestures or explosive displays. it didn't have to be chaotic and mind numbing, it didn't have to be so terrifying and confusing. you were the anchor keeping him steady and grounded

love was made up of the little things and simon was so full of them, he might've not been the most romantic person in the whole world but he was always there and he cared for you in ways that couldn't fully explain himself. it took months of him adjusting around you, it took time to fully trust and let you in, to break down the walls that guarded his heart so fiercely but your life had intertwined so deeply with his, his heart was yours simply all along.

he thanked his lucky stars everyday when it came to you because he didn't have to pretend or make a charade, this love came easy. your love came easy and it wasn't for a price it wasn't something you snatched and dangled in front of him only to watch him fall and break. you kept him steady and in return, he cherished you well.

you truly were the other half to his soul <3

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[gurobitsu]

Post-canon Mista thoughts mayhaps?

OKAYYY YAY

- personally, i think mista begins to form complex and conflicting feelings about giorno at some point. i don’t think he’d view giorno as a “friend” like he did with the others. yeah, maybe he was quick to trust giorno and count on him, but he only knew him for a week. it’s more of a duty than friendship. while there is respect, there is also a quiet bitterness. they also probably have argued a few times (“i hate you” has definitely been said to giorno once. but i don’t see mista as the hater type so he takes it back eventually. but he is Angry) i feel like mista wouldn’t willingly open up to him for a while. mista is also a petty mf so just imagine.

- mista misses the days when bruno led them with heart, not calculation. it gets to a point where he becomes strictly about business. he’s not the same loud, goofy, trigger-happy guy we saw in GW. that version of mista still exists, but now it’s shrouded by grief and responsibility

- survivor’s guilt 🫠 mista’s lost everyone he cared about, and even his sense of being part of a family. and from what we see canonically, bro doesn’t even HAVE a family (although i hc he ran away from his family and never came back and already experiences guilt from that but represses it, so imagine the damage now). as far as we know, his team was all he had, or at least, all he could get. he feels like he took everyone for granted, as someone who never got to fully open up to any of them, not even really his family (maybe bruno tho).

- he’s definitely the type to avoid emotional intimacy, so now it’s just amplified. he represses everything a lot and always has, because he just doesn’t wanna think about it. he becomes more reckless as well, because what’s he got left to lose?

- he’s saddd and lonelyyyy. he literally just picks up missions and tasks to distract himself. he talks to himself (or the pistols) a lot.

- kinda becomes an adrenaline junkie? but also no, because he doesn’t have the energy for it half the time.

- he keeps all of the other guys’ old memorabilia. mostly narancia’s stuff. he doesn’t look at it because it makes him upset but he doesn’t throw it out.

- while grieving, he smokes and drinks a lot more (i hc he does already). his emotions get all over the place, dopamine deficiency gets worse (also hc him as neurodivergent duh), lack of stimulation, it’s hard to remember things or get things done. his temper is worse and he snaps a lot, is a lot less careful when doing things, and he either can never sleep at all or sleeps as much as he can to forget. same with eating, he either starves or binges. he just doesn’t care for himself as much, and it’s hard to remember to.

honestly i’m kinda rusty on PHF lore (it’s been a while) so i didn’t write this with it too much in mind. but uhh i’ll probably update this. though i think i covered most of the general bases

(i also have some ideas for any aus that involve shipping - i had this concept for myself but it can apply to anyone who has an oc that’s shipped with him and dies in GW. basically involves him trying to get with new people, mostly to cope/as a rebound, and it’s just… not the same. he’s sick of having the same conversations over and over again, he’s sick of people “getting to know” him. although most of the time they’re just one night stands. he feels like shit doing it, but he feels like shit either way. he might as well pretend to be happy with someone else.)

um… ON THE LESS ANGSTY SIDE 😛

- he does NOT wear that ugly fucking purple or anything cunty (i honestly dislike most of the post-canon redesigns i see of him) (also jk i don’t hate the purple). they STRIPPED him from showing tummy in phf. (this reminds me i should do a post-canon mista redesign becauseeee who else but me)

- him and trish are bestiesss for the restiessss. they grow close over the years and he’s really protective over her and idk i just think they are cute.

- his hair grows longer and he has more facial hair. he’s less fit also. dad bod type shi

- i think he’d get a dog

um, i haven’t come up with anything else. i hope you enjoy my (VERY LONG) blurbs :3 !!!

[dearweirdme]

"I said that their multiple hangouts then were out of opportunity not priority"

Except this narrative doesn't make sense because (predictably) whenever Jikookers try to say this, they forget about Taehyung and what HE was doing. Tae had originally been working on his solo stuff before he even started preparing Layover and we know he scrapped what he was working on. So throughout solo era Tae was very much working for most of it, even if we didn't always see the results. Jungkook did take a bit of a longer break but we know he started working with CK in February 2023, and then I believe he started working on his solo debut in April/May. And guess what? Taekook were still hanging out and mentioning the other. Since anon brings up Jimin, he was also super busy with his solo work, yes. But he mentioned that he kept in contact with Hobi and Yoongi the most despite both of them of them ALSO being busy. What about over half a year before solo era started and Taekook were positing photos of each other on their new Instagrams and were acting like /that/ at the Harry Styles concert? What about Tae laying on Jungkook at the 2020 GDA? What about Jungkook hugging and comforting Tae during MAMA 2018? How far back should we go? Why would Tae invite Jungkook to join him and Wooga, his closest friends outside of BTS, if their closeness was only out of convenience? Why not invite any of the other members, especially the member he refers to as his soulmate? Jungkook's not some lonely person they need to take pity on. He has his own friends. He doesn't need to seek out his bandmate he's apparently not close with just for some human interaction. What about the times Taekook have talked about talking on the phone with each other? What's convenient about that if Jungkook himself has said he's not a fan of calling or texting normally? What's convenient about taking a spontaneous flight to another country because you missed someone? You can watch BTS' content over the years and you'll find that an undercurrent of Taekook's closeness has always been present.

What about Taekook military era? That's when Tae posted the Hawaii photos with the infamous "so pretty I could die" caption. What about Jungkook talking about how Tae showed him the Winter Ahead MV while he listened and sung along. What about a chef referring to Jungkook specifically as Tae's friend, suggesting they went to the restaurant together? What about them working out together during their very limited free time? What's convenient about any of that? And notice how it's not confined to solo era?

This essay probably means nothing to anon because they refuse to accept that Taekook are just close with one another, but coming up with excuse after excuse is pathetic. You aren't "right," you aren't smarter than Taekookers, you're just seeing what you want to see

Hi anon!

Sorry for posting late (in busy times like this I do struggle to keep up with asks.. real live and whatnot also needing my attention..)!

Very much agree! I tried to look up the ask they say they sent back in 2023.. but I haven’t found it (something to do with over 8000 posts on my blog 🫠 and a crappy tagging system).

I mean, they’re basically stating that Jm and Jk don’t prioritize each other right? You see basically two coping strategies for that. One is that they were having issues and made up in time for AYS. The other is that Jm was so strict on how he spent his time during recording his album that he had no time for Jk. Neither make sense. What we saw for the first time ever was members in separate schedules and Tae and Jk consistently (no matter how busy) spending time together.

[iluvchick3nz]

i needdddd more teacher finn!!!! like him talking to his students about his hockey husbands 🫠🫠

Happy V-Day to all who celebrate! Have some Fish-reflections on young love while he falls in love more and more each day. :)

Love your prompts, keep them coming! I've got almost all of them written. :)

All credits to @lumosinlove <3

“Okay,” Finn said with a sigh. He fell back into his chair and looked at his students. “Time's up. Pencils down.”

There was a light clatter as they all dropped their writing implements, a few rubbing their foreheads against the inevitable headache. Finn smiled at them and clapped his hands once.

“Well done. I'll give you an MCQ packet for the break, and don't forget your Pride and Prejudice essays that are due the week we get back, on the Friday. I want your drafts by the Monday, please, for feedback.” He stood. “This AP test doesn't know what's coming.”

There was a light chatter as they all stood up to hand in their practice FRQ exams and took the packet Finn handed them. They looked tired and worn out, but they were ready. They always were- Finn made sure of it. 

“What did you think?” one of his students, Robbie, asked his classmate, Marianne.

She looked at him over her round glasses. They suited her. “We can't talk about it, you know that, Robert.”

Finn hid his smile behind a packet. She never called him by his nickname. He heard Robbie sigh and looked up to find him watching her longingly as she and her bouncy curls left the room with her friend, Claire, throwing a thank you! over their shoulders. Robbie sighed again and turned towards his backpack, catching Finn’s eye. He blushed. Finn raised his eyebrows at him.

“You okay there, Robbie?”

He nodded, but his smile was forced. “Yeah. Got a basketball tournament over break down in South Carolina. Pretty excited.”

“Well,” Finn said, standing to approach him at his desk. “You’re doing really well. You're still on track to be top of your class.”

Robbie shook his head. “I don't think so. Marianne has a higher GPA. Her entire life is academics, and the school newspaper, and the cello.” He counted each one off on his fingers. “I might get salutatorian, though.”

Finn bit the inside of his cheek in amusement. “Well, she's an honorable competitor to lose to.”

Robbie let out a wistful, airy chuckle. “Yeah. She is.” He paused and looked at Finn quizzically. “Mr. O’Hara, I have a question.”

Finn tried to hide his surprise. “Shoot.”

Robbie was chewing his lip nervously. “Did people ever,” he started. “I don't know, not take your academic achievements seriously, just because you were good at sports?”

Finn tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Robbie huffed. “It's just- sometimes people ask me why I even bother with school, you know? When I've got a scholarship to play basketball in college and everything. Especially stuff like English. They don't understand.”

“Well,” Finn said, resting his hands on the desk. “You can always just enjoy school. That's not their business. My teammates teased me all the time, but I found a purpose in retirement outside of hockey, you know?” He glanced at the shelf of books he kept at the back of the room. He let students check them out, and they were filled with his own annotations. Some of them even had Leo’s, from all the times he'd read and reread Finn’s books from college. Finn smiled. “And even if I hadn't made it to the NHL, academics gave me something else that I would've been happy doing.”

Robbie’s eyebrows shot up. “You would've still been an English teacher?”

Finn nodded, smiling widely. “Oh, I absolutely would've. But I'm grateful I played hockey. Met my husbands.”

Robbie considered this for a moment. “And do you think that you and your husbands would've still gotten together, even if you hadn't played hockey?” At Finn’s silence, Robbie’s eyes widened. He spoke nervously. “I'm really sorry, you're not supposed to ask a teacher that.”

Finn laughed. “No, it's okay.” He thought for a moment. In his head he could imagine him and Leo running into one another in a bookstore, both reaching for the same trashy romance novels they read when they were really tired. “They definitely would have. Leo loves to read as much as I do, we would've gotten along really well. And Logan…” He paused again. He could picture Logan’s green eyes and smile so vividly. “Well, he'd be hard to get rid of in any lifetime. He's pretty stubborn. And he likes to be read to.” 

Robbie chuckled, shouldering his backpack. “Well, he fights on the ice like he's stubborn, so I'm not surprised.”

Finn grinned, then blinked hard, eyes going to his watch. “Speaking off, I've got to get going soon. Gotta catch my husbands before warm-ups tonight.” He clapped Robbie on the shoulder. “Have a good break, bud.”

Robbie smiled. “You, too, Mr. O'Hara.”

Finn watched him walk out of the room. Just as he stepped through the doorway, Marianne approached him. She was rubbing her arm nervously and talking a mile a minute. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide, but Robbie’s smile was so big that it seemed to relax her shoulders slightly. She swung her backpack around onto one arm, reaching inside to pull out Pride and Prejudice, sticky notes sticking out of the top. Marianne pointed to something on the page and continued talking. It was obvious that she wanted Robbie to follow along, but all he could do was stare at her, a small smile on his face. When she realized this, she paused, blushing, and fidgeted with the corners of the pages nervously. Robbie said something gently and gestured towards the library, which was at the end of the hall and open until late in the afternoon. Marianne nodded and they walked off together. Finn smiled at their retreating forms.

“Mr. O'Hara?”

Finn jumped slightly. He turned to find another student, Daniel, standing by Finn’s desk nervously. Finn eased his shoulders and smiled. “Hey, man. What's up?”

Daniel blushed. “I was wondering if I could get an extension on the essay,” he said, his Austrian accent thick with nerves.

Finn tilted his head. “Daniel, I can only do that so much for you. You're taking an AP class.”

His face flushed even more. “I know, it's just- the English is harder than what I was expecting. I'm struggling to analyze it.”

Finn sighed. He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against his desk. “Tell you what. I have an idea, okay? And if it doesn't work, I'll give you an extension, but I want you to try. The exam is in three weeks.”

Daniel nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

Finn reached for a photo frame on his desk. It was of him and Logan and Leo on the Harvard campus at sunset. They'd gone for a visit to see a football game and to go to the library, where Finn had led them both to a dark corner and kissed them breathless. Finn smiled at the memory. He turned the frame for Daniel to see. 

“My husband, Logan. The shorter one,” he said. “He's from Quebec, so English is his second language.” He looked up to find Daniel staring hard at the photo. “I used to read to him in college to help him understand the hard texts. He found it easier, sometimes, to hear the words and talk about them with someone.”

Daniel nodded. “That's nice.” He looked at Finn. “But what do I do?”

Finn smiled at him. “What if you got Jesse to read to you? He's doing great in AP Lang, and he's an incredible writer. He took my class last year when he was a junior.”

Daniel blushed even harder, stark against his golden hair. Finn had suspected for a long time that he and Jesse liked each other, even if they didn't know it. When Daniel had moved their sophomore year from Austria, Jesse had taken right to him, inviting him to join the tennis team and always being an ear to listen, even when Daniel struggled to find the words. Finn felt his heart ache a little for them. He wanted to give them a push in the right direction, but he more than anyone knew that these things took time. So he settled for looking at Daniel's unsure face over his glasses. 

“I think you should try it, Daniel. He's a good friend, he'd be happy to help. He can read you passages, talk them out with you, read your essay back to you.”

Daniel nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he's a good friend.” He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, taking one last look at the photo in Finn's hands. “Thank you, Mr. O'Hara. I will try it, and let you know if I still need an extension.”

Finn grinned widely. “Sounds good.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Now get outta here. I gotta go watch my husbands play some stick and puck.”

Daniel nodded with a shy smile, saying a quiet goodbye before walking out of the room in that slightly nervous way he always did. Finn laughed softly. It seemed like years ago he watched Logan carry himself the same way, guarded against a language he wasn't totally confident in. Not anymore, though. Now he could take Finn and Leo apart in two languages, whispered in their ear in the early morning or gasped in their bedroom late at night. Or both. Even watching him yell on the ice got Finn all toasty. 

Finn sighed wistfully, taking another look at the picture in his hands. He turned, placing it in its rightful place on his desk alongside all the others. There were loads of pictures spread all around his desk area, even hung up on the wall behind him. Some were of him and his Lions or Harvard teammates, some with his family. Most, however, were of him and Finn and Leo, or some combination thereof, all wrapped up in one another and smiling in every frame. Finn hadn't known that delirious happiness could be so long lasting, but he was now falling more in love each and every day and living a more blissful life than he could have imagined. True happiness, he supposed, was one of those feelings that was almost unshakeable. 

Finn checked his watch one more time and hissed through his teeth. He grabbed the grading he'd need to do over the weekend and his bag, rushing to lock his classroom door and jog down the stairs. He waved to the secretary, Mx. Tulane, on the way out and searched frantically for his keys. Logan would've laughed at him, and Leo would've gently scolded him for never putting them in the same place, and all Finn could think about was blue eyes and dark brown hair and the greatest love he'd ever known. He was desperate for some good luck kisses.

An hour later saw him slightly out of breath and flashing his pass to the stadium security guards, jogging to where he knew his husbands would both be. He was correct, and found them on their pre-game loop around the back halls of the stadium. Logan had used to warm up on the bikes, but ever since returning to Gryffindor he joined Leo in his and Finn's old warm-up.

I don't want soleil to be warming up alone anymore, he'd said. And I've spent too much time away from you both to do it anymore than I have to now. Plus, then you always know where to find us to kiss us before the game.

Indeed, Finn had known where to find them. They were running ahead of him, both in their spandex and some shorts. They were talking happily, and Leo said something that made Logan shove him playfully. Leo just laughed. It sounded like sunshine.

Finn couldn't contain his excitement anymore and ran forward. At the last second, Logan heard his footsteps and turned, eyes widening in delight. He slowed down, expecting Finn to stop, but Finn just kept running. He bent down and wrapped his arms securely around Logan's waist, picking him up and jogging a few steps before halting and squeezing him tightly. Logan was laughing freely, more freely than he did with anyone else, as Leo slowed down, too, with a smile on his face.

“Hey, teach,” Leo said. He looked Finn up and down. “You look hot.”

“Hi, butter baby,” Finn said. “And my Lolo.”

Logan wriggled around in protest, but Finn just held him tighter and kissed his cheek a few times. Logan was still laughing and turned his head to cup Finn's jaw, bringing him into a proper kiss. Finn sighed against his mouth contentedly, setting him down on the ground so he could hold Logan's face firmly with both hands. Logan's fingers were all in his hair and tugging at the strands. Finn felt a bit dizzy.

A warm presence made its way to their sides. “Do I not get a treat, too?”

“Mm,” Finn hummed against Logan’s mouth. “One sec.” He pressed a last firm kiss to Logan's mouth before pulling back with a smile. “Hi, Lo, baby.”

Logan's mouth was red. “Salut.”

Finn kissed his cheek before turning to Leo, grabbing his hips and pulling him flush. “And how's my sunshine?”

“Good,” Leo said. He smiled into Finn's first kiss. “Better, now that I'm with both of you.”

Finn just kissed him deeper. He clutched one arm around Leo's waist and one at the back of his neck, using this leverage to dip him suddenly. Leo gasped against his mouth, grabbing at Finn's shoulders. Finn loved to do this to the both of them, to take them by surprise and romance them, no matter how cheesy they thought him to be. He loved the feeling of their bodies and skin beneath his hands. He didn't think he'd ever tire of it.

After a long moment, Finn broke their kiss, staring down at Leo's flushed face and hair that seemed like it was floating towards the floor. Leo was smiling exasperatedly and lovingly at him. “You sure know how to sweep boys off their feet, huh, O'Hara?”

Finn kissed his forehead. “I've had lots of practice.” He helped Leo stand and opened his arm for Logan to join them. “How are we feeling, lovers?”

Logan kissed his jaw. “Ready. Right, Le?”

Leo traced a finger down Logan’s jaw and leaned down to kiss him lightly. “So ready. Colorado doesn't know what's coming for them.”

Logan leaned into the touch. Finn watched them love each other and smiled. He drew them closer to his body. “I missed you today.” He rested his head on top of Logan's. “I thought of you.”

Leo kissed his forehead. “Oh yeah?”

Finn nodded. “Robbie was nervous about being an academic and an athlete. I think he has a crush on Marianne, who's the smartest girl in school. She's not an athlete.”

“What'd you tell him?” Logan asked. 

Finn closed his eyes and swayed into the warmth of their bodies. “That I have husbands who like to read or be read to, and even if I hadn't played hockey and had chosen to just go into teaching, they would've loved me regardless.” He paused, then snorted lightly. “Oh, and Jesse and Daniel are totally crushing on each other. Jesse is going to help him with the hard English.” Finn could feel Logan’s smile against his shoulder.

“Mm,” Leo said into Finn's hair. “You mean we could've had a sexy English teacher from the beginning?”

Finn squeezed his hip. “Hey, you loved when I played hockey. I was a very sexy seventeen.”

“Ouais, you were,” Logan laughed. “The sexiest seventeen.” He kissed Finn's shoulder and Leo's chest. “Allez, we need to finish our warm-up.”

“Go on,” Finn said. He kissed them both hard once more each and patted their butts firmly. “I love you, good luck, I love you, you'll be amazing, I love you. Have I mentioned that I love you?”

Leo kissed his forehead and ran away. When he was far enough down the hallway, he turned to jog backwards. “I love you!” he shouted, eyes twinkling. “C'mon, Lo, I'll race you back!”

Logan pressed a fleeting kiss to Finn's cheek. “Je t'aime,” he said, then he was off and chasing after Leo. Leo's smile was bright and toothy, Logan yelling at him in French and him responding in kind, both of them laughing hard. 

Finn couldn't help the fond feeling that arose in his chest as he watched them run away. He missed them with every step they took, but no matter- they'd be back in his arms in a couple of hours, ready to go home and read a book before bed. Finn bit his lip around a grin and turned to go to the family box.

[seijorhi]

Hey, god it’s me again. 😔 LOL

I think that at this point of my life your beautiful and flawless fic ‘means to an end’ has physical intertwined with me. It is a part of my mind, soul, and body. 😩 Everything about it is chefs kiss.

I wish I could just kiss that beautiful big brain of yours for coming up with such delicious ideas. The way it’s on my mind daily since the moment I read it is SICKENING (in a good way obvi 😏).

I will go through my day and out of nowhere something will remind me of it and along will come a question. You did this to me Rhi 🫵.

NOW I know you’re very busy with getting your new fic ready (absolutely excited btw, I love Gojo and knowing your beautiful mind , anything you write will be to die for!!!!) but I wanted to ask a couple questions (I know, shocker right?). Since I know you’re busy, don’t feel obligated to answer these questions. In fact, I’ll be very happy if you even reply with a heart. (I simply just wanted to let you know deeply I appreciate/admire your work.)

But here are my troublesome questions:

- Did the guys on their volleyball team know about their obsession with the reader?

- I know you mentioned Atsumu having girlfriends through highschool but did that apply to Osamu too? (Especially since he liked the reader first?)

- This is sort of like my first question but did the girlfriends know as well? And if they did, did they feel any jealousy? (Jealousy from their boyfriend giving his attention to someone else.)

- Since there was a long period of time of not seeing the reader, did they have hopes of seeing her again? (before Atsumu found ame)

- While in that period of time did the twins still date around?

That’s all but please if you have anything else to add , it’s definitely welcomed. 🫶 (also I’m sorry if these questions sound silly or stupid but they’ve been taking up my mind for awhile and I’m sorry to everyone for constantly bringing up ‘means to an end’ but that fic has a strong grip on me yall. Like I’m down bad on my knees for this version/fic of the Miya twins 😔.)

OFF TOPIC: I’ve been trying very hard to be more active with my favorite writers to show love and support but still find the idea to be very scary. I still get nervous sending in messages or asks but I’m trying to take baby steps. I also want to gain the confidence of not having to press the anonymous button because I want you to know who I am but as a second baby step , I will now be signing my post with my nickname since I want you to (sort of) know who I am ☺️ (and not just some crazed fan lol.)

-🌬️🌫️ katia

(I keep on forgetting which emojis I used on the previous questions I sent but I hope I got it right this time 🥲)

(Edit: you’ll probably see the same message again but that’s because I’m sending it to you again because I forgot to mention this in the pervious one 😰.

You’ve inspired me to start taking a more darker route in my writing. I began writing maybe a month ago and it’s a romance novel. (So far I’ve got two chapters 🫠).

But these past couple days I’ve been REALL REALLY wanting to write more darker content (like the kind you write, you’ve inspired me a great deal with your writing technique).

But the problem is I don’t know how to write yandere/horror/gore. So I was wondering if it wasn’t to much of a bother, if you could give me some tips or advice. (Im very new to writing and I have my struggles but I want to branch out to more darker themes, like you and fairy.) Still learning the ropes but I hope with your guidance, I’ll get there 🫡. )

hello my love!

okay so first of all if ur gonna keep being so cute and complimentary i will melt into a soft gooey puddle and be of no use to anybody so be warned.

as for your questions:

i would say that most people who spent a decent amount of time around the twins, i.e. their teammates and classmates, would have at least an inkling about their interest in bullying her. the miyas are many things, subtle isn't one of them. having said that, i think out of everyone, suna was probably the only one who saw it for what it was

hookups yes, 'girlfriends' no

again, anyone who spent a significant amount of time around the twins was bound to eventually put two and two together. which isn't to say that they were all blind going in – some undoubtedly thought they could snag his attention once they were officially dating, only to find themselves bitterly disappointed

they 100% both kept tabs on the reader, it was more a case of biding their time and waiting for the right moment

yes. not serious, long term relationships (aside from ame) as neither one of them would be capable of faking it for more than a few months but relationships all the same

advice wise, i dug up this old post which hopefully will be at least a little helpful??

beyond that, all i can really say is that for me, good yandere/horror fics balance emotion with tension, and the build up of both. the characterisation is also really important – what makes you love to loathe them, or alternatively, not see them coming until it's entirely too late. nothing bores me more in a yan fic than when the writer hasn't bothered to give their yan a personality beyond a cookie cutter obsession.

but congrats on getting started with writing! i'm proud of you bby <33

[stormyoceans]

MONICA!!!!!! The concert was so good!!!! 😭😭😭 I’m assuming you’re ok with spoilers so here goes 😬

The first half of the show was them playing and recreating the key scenes and singing in them which I thought would trigger me tbh but instead I think it did me good to see the scenes I loved again 🥹 and Jimmy, Mark and Sea were so freaking good they cried in some scenes and I cried seeing them cry and it was so emotional again!!! I really wanna go back and rewatch all the good parts now, it’s still 80% a really good series!!

And they did Blame the Stars together!!! And you saw they did the “can I have my shirt back” scene!!! 😵🫠

(They played the breakup scene but not the reconciliation, it kinda just skipped to “happy ending” and I’m actually glad that we don’t have to rehash all of that)

They did full group songs and unit songs and what got to me was that MarkNamtan and OhmFilm did songs but so did NamtanFilm and MarkOhm!!! The NamtanFilm song was 😙👌

They did a whole Vice Versa medley!!! They did it for me!!! 😄 I was so happy and excited to see it!!! I hope that gets more of the newer fans to go watch it!!!

Jimmy, Mark and Sea had solo moments too, love that for them!!

They were surprised with a fan made video in support of them!! 🥰

Their speeches at the end were emotional and everyone cried, including me 🥹 Sea went second to last and Jimmy went last and he spoke the most 😁

It was just under 4 hours long, it started a little late (as all GMM concerts do tbh) but it was so good and worth only getting 4 hours of sleep 😅 I really hope you get to see it and enjoy it too!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING YOUR LIVE STREAMING EXPERIENCE OF THE LAST TWILIGHT CONCERT WITH ME KAREN!!!!!!!!

ngl reading this and seeing all the clips on twitter is making me want to buy the ticket for the rerun so badly like i always knew it was gonna be great and that everyone was gonna give their all but damn. the concert actually felt so well organized and thought out, i love that they basically turned the show into a musical and gave space for all kind of performances and pairings!!!!!! i've always wanted a duet version of blame the stars and im so happy they finally gave it to us!!!!!! and seeing namtanfilm and markohm slow dance alongside jimmysea was such a blessing THEY TRULY SAID THERE AIN'T NO STRAIGHT PEOPLE LEFT IN THIS SHOW

i really wasn't expecting it, but tbh i feel the same way as you. i think this did me good. maybe im just saying this because i haven't seen any videos of the break up scene so i can just keep pretending it never happened, but the parts i did see are kind of healing the hurt i've been feeling over the last three episodes of the show and bringing back all the love and excitement i used to have for morkday

ALSO NOT TO BE DRAMATIC BUT JIMMYSEA SINGING THE ENTIRETY OF THE VICE VERSA OST WITH A BRIGHT PINK STAGE SURROUNDING THEM MADE ME CRY LIKE A BABY like i truly did not expect them to bring vice versa up because last twilight is what brought them the popularity they always deserved so i was afraid they would kinda forget about vice versa, but im honestly just so ridiculously happy and emotional to know that it's still in their heart. or at least that they know it's still in ours, even if we may be a minority in the fandom now

i already had a meltdown over jimmysea this morning and i really can't afford another one and i don't think i would even have the words to express everything i feel but. im just so proud of them. it's honestly insane to me that they were able to pull off a performance like this in such a short period of time and with such a busy schedule. their dedication, their hard work, their kindness..... I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS THESE TWO BOYS DESERVES ALL THE LOVE AND RECOGNITION IN THE WORLD

[fexiana]

update on EuphoriaSims

I haven’t posted in almost a week but that doesn’t mean I’m not creating 😁🧡 I see 23 votes so far and 48 hours remaining on my last post/poll. Thank you to those who participated in voting. May I reiterate that I am asking for a reason, so stay tuned 😉.

Since my last video, I realized the script I have in store for my next episode requires the New Year house and Lexi’s house. I finished the New Year house two days ago focusing mainly on the infamous bathroom that Nate and Cassie were in, the hallway Lexi asks Maddy if she’s seen Cassie in plus the hallway where Maddy pounds on that infamous bathroom door, the living room where Fez and Lexi catch up since the last time they saw each other, and the bar/kitchen where Fez beats Nate up. Although I don’t plan on including this scene in this episode, I also wanted to add that I furnished the washroom where Rue encounters Elliot “fixing the washing machine” 😆.

As of right now, I am completing Lexi’s house which is taking some time as I have to find reference videos and am constantly having to manipulate walls and rooms when I think I have the layout figured out 🫠. I’m a perfectionist and focus on the little details but today I told myself “self, it’s okay if you can’t find the exact cc you’re looking for. Just finish it already!” And even though I told myself that 🥴 I’m not going to rush to finish, but I’ll definitely stop being anal about the cc. I’ve always had the room Cassie and Lexi share completed 2 years ago (as well as Fezco’s house and Fezco’s business) but what I’ve been working on is the downstairs part of the Howard house that I didn’t touch until after the New Year house just recently.

Downstairs I have completed the paint and brick wallpaper in their right placements, as close as I could find: carpet and wood flooring, the foyer and rug placement, short stairway placements, and hallway furnishings. I don’t have the room Cassie confronts Lexi and Suze in before Lexi visits Fez done yet but I have a shell of the room and the wood panel wallpaper ready, same for the room Lexi, Kat and Maddy were in when Rue told on Cassie about messing with Nate, but I have the wallpaper and carpet done. What I am working on right now is the kitchen. I’m upset that I can’t find the wine wall art cc for sims 4 that is similar to the one Lexi was sitting in front of in the kitchen when she was talking to Fez on the phone about him wanting to be a farmer 🥹. There isn’t a single wine wall art cc for sims 4 as a matter of fact, forget I even said similar. It’s really bothering me but I’ll try to find something close to it. The dining room that Cal confronts Lexi and Cassie in about who beat up Nate is nearly done too but I’m still looking up reference videos to make sure it all sides of the dining room are covered or as close to it.

Other than the two rooms downstairs that I at least have a shell of while I work on the kitchen, I also have the wash room and patio with the hot tub to complete. So that’s four rooms I have to finish in total after the kitchen which I plan to have all done by the end of this week. Since I am done with the New Year house as far as the important rooms for particular scenes, you can expect some screenshots very soon 🙂. I will also take screenshots of Lexi’s house once I am done and share with you 🧡.

Stay tuned and please feel free to ask me any questions or leave any comments as well as send private messages. I am open to new ideas and respect and appreciate anyone’s advice or input on EuphoriaSims. Keep me motivated💌❣️

-Bless bless, one Love 🌩️

[niemernuet]

i honestly don't care which blossoming romance prompt you chose just give me the franjo/arnaud content i'm in such dying need of i'm begging you🫠🫶🏻

Thank youuu so much for your prompt. 🥰😍 Your genius truly is unsurpassed! I chose nr 22 "playful teasing", and while it's just a short text I really think I'll have to continue it at a later time because these two are just too sweet. But first of all:

And now:

The last remains of the ski slopes lie like white ribbons wrapped around the brown mountainside. The artificial snow has withstood the spring sun another day, and only the brown patches further down in the valley reveal the constant struggle to keep it that way. It is long past the operating hours of the ski lifts, and all the tourists have been chased off the mountain because tonight the restaurant at the top is closed for the public. Outside, on the big terrace overlooking the vast summits, most of the younger club members are waiting for dinner, some with a cheap little plastic trophy in their hands, some smoking, and all of them drinking. Justin and Daniel intercept Arnaud just as he steps out of the warm restaurant with another bottle of chilled wine.

“Perfect,” Justin says, and holds out his glass. “Just what we need.”

“Actually this one’s for…,” Arnaud says and points towards the group at the other end of the patio but Justin does not let him finish.

“They don’t seem to be lacking,” he says over the shrieking and laughter wafting over from the other side, and cocks his head with a pleading smile. “Meanwhile look at us!”

 Arnaud grins, and with an exaggerated sigh fills their glasses. “I apologise. I know it’s hard for older people to walk the long distance to the bar. I hope they’re not too heavy in your hands. Do you need a straw?”

“I always forget what a funny guy you are,” Daniel answers, and clinks his newly filled glass against Arnaud’s. “Have you thought about switching to slalom? We could have a blast together.”

Arnaud laughs, though the joy in it is missing a bit. “One: Why are you even here? This is not your ski club. And two: I might actually take you up on the offer, so don’t tempt me.”

Justin and Daniel shoot each other a quick glance before Justin plucks the bottle out of Arnaud’s hand, and puts it down on the nearest bar table.

“To answer your first question: Partners are invited too,” Daniel says. “Maybe if you’d make an effort you could also have someone next year.”

Arnaud snorts into his white wine. “Yeah, right. We’re not all as lucky as you two.”

“Damn, I guess you received the list for next season’s groups as well?” Justin asked.

Arnaud puts his glass down. The sun has set behind the mountains, and the soft yet cold wind manages to creep underneath his thermal undershirt. “Am I so easy to read?”

“Only when you’re wallowing in self-pity,” Daniel answers. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. I’m sure Alexis will still be there, right?”

Arnaud’s shoulders slump as he laughs. “Of course he is but he will be more than busy with whatever is going on between him and Gilles and Elian…” He breaks off, and with a frown stares into the distance.

“Are they…” Daniel begins cautiously.

“I don’t know!” Arnaud exclaims, and throws up his hands. “I’m not even sure they know themselves. Also, they’re nowhere near the worst part of next season…” He stares at them with barely hidden desperation as his sorrows burst out of him:

“We’re getting another Bernese! Can you fucking imagine, another bore like Lars? I mean, he’s a nice guy and all but he has no problems to spend an entire day in silence, and you know who has to be silent with him when Ralph’s off facetiming his kids for the hundredth time and Alexis and Elian and Gilles are off who fucking knows where doing who fucking knows what? Exactly, me! And now imagine there’s a second guy next to Lars and it will be just the three of us and every time I will try to keep a conversation going I will only hear ‘huh?’ because apparently my accent is so very difficult to understand.”

The first people are filing back into the restaurant and throw curious glances in their direction but Arnaud does not care. Not when he finally has someone who understands what he is going through.

Justin laughs, throws his arm around Arnaud’s shoulder, and softly guides him towards the door. “Let it all out, kid! We have all night.”

-----

Lodgings for the second groups, with the athletes not part of the national team yet, usually have to do with less.

“But this is a new low,” Arnaud mutters to himself as he leans deep into the closet, one of the shelves wedged between his foot and the wall, and pulls at the rusty bracket. The musty smell that lingers in the entire room fills his nose to the brim in there, and he can feel the dust bunnies under his fingers as they press against the wood.

“FUCK!” he yells when he slips off the bracket again. He pulls out his head, and inspects the damage to his skin. A short knock at the door is the only warning he gets before it bursts open, and a mountain of bags tumble inside.

“Sorry, this stuff is killing me,” the guy following behind pants as he pushes through the door, and drops his things at the foot of Arnaud’s bed. He puts his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. A few strands of his long bangs cling to his sweaty forehead.

“Third floor without a bloody elevator, are you kidding me? We really have to make it into the national team this season, this is unacceptable. Hi, I’m Franjo.” His eyes turn into two narrow crescents as a big smile spreads over his face. He holds out his hand, and Arnaud only has to extend his because the room is not big enough to keep a reasonable distance anyway.

“Arnaud,” Arnaud says after a moment that is just a tad too long.

“I know,” Franjo says, still smiling, and begins to kick his suitcase and bags towards the other bed.

Arnaud blinks at him. He is wearing shorts, and the shirt with their organisation’s logo has wrinkles where the backpack pulled it up.

“I’m sorry, I thought I’d be with Lars again?”

Franjo looks over his shoulder. “There was…a change of plans…as I understand it.”

Arnaud frowns, and Franjo rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tell him I told you but he doesn’t want to bunk with you anymore because you talk too much. He’d rather be with Ralph because he says he talks a lot too but only to his phone…or the kids in his phone, I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Though I can’t say that you do, at least so far.”

Arnaud blinks again, his mouth still hanging half open. “You’ve been in here one minute,” he finally manages.

Franjo stops kicking his bags, and opens the zipper of the biggest one. “True, I give you that,” he concedes. “Also I’ve heard you yell ‘fuck’ out in the hallway so I guess I’ve interrupted at a very inconvenient time. Sorry about that.”

“I did not…,” Arnaud exclaims, sputtering indignantly until he realises that Franjo is laughing.

“Very funny,” he mutters, and hopes that the ancient, unsightly drapes keep enough of the sunlight out so his burning cheeks are not too visible. His hopes at his embarrassment staying hidden shatter though when Franjo turns around, and steps right next to him.

“Thanks,” he smiles, and takes in the large gap between the shelves in the closet. “Is there something wrong with it?”

The faint smell of his aftershave cuts through the mustiness emanating from the closet, and it takes all of Arnaud’s self-control to answer within a socially acceptable time. “It wobbles and tilts back as soon as I put a stack of clothes on it. I think the brackets aren’t on the same height but I can’t get them out.” He looks at the superficial scratches along his index finger, and the small scab that is already forming over it.

“Oh no, what happened to your dainty fingers?” Franjo asks, and again Arnaud sucks in air before he recognises the wide grin on Franjo’s face. “Let me try, this looks like a job for a pro.”

“Of course, as soon as I find one,” Arnaud snorts, though he does take a step back until he bumps against the nightstand.

“Ha ha,” Franjo says, his head stuck into the closet. “I’ll have you know you’re…come on you little bugger…aha!” With a triumphant laugh he stands up straight again, and holds up the rusty piece of metal that used to carry one corners of the shelf for the last few decades.

“See?” he says, and holds out his hand towards Arnaud. “That’s why you need a carpenter for a job like this. Though I don’t think we can put this back in, it is totally rusted…” He sticks his head back into the wardrobe, and examines the other three brackets. “I’m sure one of the service men will have a pair of pliers to get the rest out. And the supermarket’s still open, if we’re lucky they’re carrying a box of those…and if not we could go to Sion tomorrow after the training…”

“You really are one?”

Franjo breaks off, and tilts his head until he can look at Arnaud from the inside of the closet. The hair on top of his head is longer than the rest, and falls over his eyes.

“A carpenter?” Arnaud asks.

“Of course,” Franjo answers. “And what are you? Other than a fast skier.”

Arnaud shrugs, and awkwardly crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I work in a bank part-time in spring and summer.”

“A banker?” Franjo laughs, and takes a step back, away from the old hole in the wall. “That’s good, you can calculate the depreciation of the new brackets, and whether they fit in our budget while we go to the supermarket.”

Arnaud laughs, staring at the rusty piece of metal in Franjo’s palm. For a second he wonders what it would feel like if he put his own hand in his, and again takes too long to realise that Franjo is staring at him.

“Unless you want to stay here?” Franjo asks. “But it’s not like we have to be anywhere until dinner.”

“No, no!” Arnaud hurries to say. “I’d love to come along.”

With a grin, Franjo turns around, and tears the door open. “Cool.”

[armando-triplepapito]

Seeing your posts about the first episodes and everyone was so mean to Betty since always, and that’s only taking into account the instances where she actually heard or saw people treating her horribly or calling her ugly and whatnot, but they were even worse behind her back (Mario and even Armando lbr especially at the early stages of their affair) and when Armando dresses as a drag queen and Betty takes him to her house to help him get rid of the make up and stuff just as he is leaving he asks her if it’s really that horrible to work at Ecomoda. Dude, do you really need to ask that? 😪 At least, he has time to reflect later because when they want Betty to help them get out of debt by keeping the embargo, Armando says that if she doesn’t want to help them it won’t be because of the things that were said to her during the board meeting, but because of the things that were said to her repeatedly before that and during her whole time working there (All the things Daniel said to Betty when she had her first makeover? He’s gross). The Human Resources department at Ecomoda was simply nonexistent.

If María Beatriz que was not a Valencia, they would treat her just as bad as they did with El Cuartel tbh

Thank you for your gifs, your blog is awesome 😎

Yea it’s rough to see how everyone treats Betty and like how you said they’re even worse when they talk behind her back. They even call her names right after she saves their skin! Calling her Murciélago 🦇 de la Guarda and whatnot. Like bruh she’s doing all she can to help you guys yet y’all can’t compliment her without an insult?! Seriously! They’re dickheads! And the worst part is that Betty probably hears them all the time yet pretends she doesn’t cause let’s not forget the walls are thin in Ecomoda 🫠. (Okay side note- there’s this scene where Armando and Mario are trash talking about her and she trips into the office, I feel like she heard them but of course used her “clumsiness” to brush over the situation if that makes sense? Definitely gonna talk about that later in a post once I rewatch the scene). Anyways when I’m reminded of Armando asking Betty if it’s that horrible to work for him it seriously makes me laugh! That’s not something he should be asking! He KNOWS he’s awful 😀 I think Betty only tells him that Don Hermes heard him yelling at her on the day she made him a business proposal (or something like that, tbh when they talk stuff about the company everything goes over my head) what she should’ve mentioned is that Don Hermes heard him yelling at her on the day he FIRED HER!! Bro that scene made me soo mad! The way Armando didn’t even wanna listen to her, insulting her basically saying that if he has to have a useless secretary might as well only keep Patricia like ugh you dumbass!! How dare you!! I kinda have wished she didn’t made that business proposal for him cause he didn’t deserve it! And the worst part is that right after he told Betty to go take a lunch break he basically tells Mario he did notice that Betty was limping but he just didn’t cared! Ugh!! Idk how Betty was able to handle all that abuse! F Armando man! Betty shouldn’t had helped them not because of what was said to her during the board meeting but ALSO because of what they did and said to her before, during her time in Ecomoda! For sure Betty is stronger than me, I would’ve been so petty😮‍💨 honestly I kinda liked how Armando read Betty’s diary, he deserved to know exactly how Betty felt during her stay in Ecomoda. I loved how he felt her pain through those pages☺️ tho I wished Betty had reminded him how he fired her😒

Don’t even remind me of Daniel during Betty’s first makeover! He was such an asshole for no reason! My poor Betty 🤧 trying to defend herself😭 and now that I think about it, it was brave of her to stand up to him while she was basically cornered cause let’s not forget he attacked her while they were alone who knows what could’ve happened if Armando didn’t appear 😰. I have to admit Armando was such a sweetheart in this episode 🥹 the way he defended her not only from Daniel but from Marcela and Patricia those bitches so kudos for him but not many cause he was still trash talking behind her back with Mario😠

Seriously! Hr was definitely nonexistent in Ecomoda! The way the executives got away with everything is crazy! How Mario played with Patricia and Aura Maria, Hugo’s insults towards the Cuartel especially towards Betty, the way Marcela tried firing Betty and how she probably fired a lot of models (probably without good reasons other than they slept with Armando). There was just so much mistreatments from the executives it’s insane! And the worst part is they never apologize not even Armando who’s the least bad one from them all. He should at least apologize after yelling at the workers 💀. Omgosh that reminds me! Okay sorry for going off track but I’m remembering that time when Armando pulled Patricia’s hair!! That was so insane of him! So scary!! Patricia is an awful person but she did not deserve to get her hair pulled by her boss!! Armando should’ve definitely been arrested there!😰 from what I understand the Cuartel had worked in Ecomoda for years, idk how they handled working in such a toxic environment 😬 but then again Don Roberto was the president so things were way different, I hope😶

Omg if Maria Beatriz was not a Valencia she would’ve been treated even worse than the Cuartel! The Cuartel were treated bad because of their appearance and Patricia was treated bad cause she’s an airhead. Maria Beatriz was not only ugly but also an airhead! Everyone would’ve eaten her alive! She’s lucky that she was born a Valencia but even still I feel like everyone pushes her to the sidelines. I feel like her family and the Mendozas try to forget she even exists💀

Hehe thanks for the kind words🙈❤️ I’ll try to make more gifs but tbh I’m kinda in a hiatus on my rewatch cause it’s kinda hard to see Betty being mistreated by everyone. Everyone is so cruel to her and I’m only 10 episodes in! Just thinking about what’s to come breaks my heart😭 but Ik it’s worth it I just need more time to mentally prepare myself. Also I’m thinking of making some fanart! Idk how to draw but if I can’t do fanfics might as well do some fanart! So watch out for them😜 and hey you never know! Maybe my fanart can inspire talented artist to make some of their own for the fandom 🤭🤪 anyways thanks for messaging me! I always have fun when I have someone to talk to about ysblf 🥰 tho I apologize for taking so long to reply😭

Don’t hate me! I love ya 😚❤️

[s-b-party]

Really Late Update oof

I'm sorry for not appearing much online 🫠 I will say it's been good mentally for me (I've heard a lot of things that happened) so there's definitely at least one pro to this 😂

A lot has been going on for me that's kept me from making posts/content and interacting in general online; I got a job a while back around February (how is it almost halfway through the year already ahhhhh 💀) and since then, I've been happy that I have something to do because job-hunting daily for the past couple of years has been draining and miserable along with other events that occurred. However I'm also a bit sad that I haven't been able to keep up with everything else that I want to do when it comes to video games as it is my main hobby when I'm not working, eating, sleeping, just trying to survive in general.

I miss making my lore analyses, but with everything that's happened so far, I don't know how much I can motivate myself especially with Genshin. I enjoy the combat in Genshin a lot, but what drew me to the game in the first place was the lore and story. However, for lack of better words, I'm feeling a bit burnt out from how long we've had to wait for crumbs of certain lore/story content to be possibly answered now. For example, Mondstadt making a reappearance now with Albedo after that first Dragonspine event from a while back. A lot of lore drops/bombs are starting to arrive right about now even though a lot of people including myself have been anticipating answers for quite some time. The first event ever had brought up one popular topic of the sky being "fake" and it wasn't exactly expanded on for a long time, maybe a few mentions here or there later on but not much of an explanation for it. We got the sky being torn apart and explicitly shown to us during Natlan's story. We also have them showing recent promo material with the 3 moon sisters whom many of us were wondering about since Mondstadt. It's been a really long time since many of us anticipated for answers regarding these topics.

I've been more invested in HSR, but that's probably because since it's still a fairly young game, I'm willing to give it more time before I decide to invest less time into it. I have criticisms about its story pacing from time to time, but I still have much interest in the lore and story, so it'll be a waiting game for a bit.

Regarding Hoyoverse content that I might post if and when I have time, it'll probably be less for Genshin and HSR will be prioritized for the time being until further notice. I've been playing non-gacha games (maybe I'll look at Legend of Zelda lore more since I've been playing Tears of the Kingdom) and I want to continue writing fanfics because it's been really fun (there's an Onmyoji fanfic that I keep forgetting to copy to Tumblr which is already out on AO3 😭 I'll probably get on that soon and I'm in the middle of another HSR fanfic that I've been thinking about for weeks). I want to expand my content and my original plan was to stream again in the future, but I don't know when that'll be. For the time being, I will try my best to post content when I can. With Twitter, I haven't been on there for a while and it's been pretty good. If I end up looking at it once in a while, it won't be for too long. It would probably just be "post content/updates then go."

TLDR: My schedule has been keeping me busy. I'm not as invested in Genshin right now because it's just been a long time since I invested myself in the lore and story at the beginning so all the lore drops have been very overwhelming and overdue for me. I need some time to see if I'll treat HSR the same way. I'll try my best to get back into posting content and expand on different games. I also hope to stream again in the future.

*I don't know for certain if I'll be able to come back to Genshin and play soon since there is also the issue of storage on my phone. I will stay updated on the story content from others, so I won't be completely out of the loop.*

Sorry it took me so long to say anything at all, but I do hope everybody has been okay because I know a lot has happened during the time I haven't been interacting online outside of my close circle. Nod-Krai looks interesting and I'm happy for the people who are excited for it. Hopefully I'll be able to come back to making content refreshed :3