#learning to find life and joy again

[ptolomeia]

Who wants to hear my thoughts on how my disability, fatness and grief all intersect?

If the answer is not you, please press j to continue to the next post!

So, we're coming up on a year now since our disability meant we had to come to terms with the fact that we would never be able to work and had to drop out of school for our dream job and become a housebound/bedbound lump person. Now my dream job was in construction, it was unionized and extremely well paid and I was three months short of graduating when reality became undeniable. I was never going to be able to do this.

I may have been the only person in my class who had to double check the weight capacity of my harness and shock absorber, but I was fucking good at the work. One of my teachers had me tutoring classmates before the brain fog made that impossible. And while it was hard to find clothes that fit me, mens clothes typically came in larger sizes, which worked for me.

And then came MECFS, slowly robbing my life of, well, most things really. Including, but very much not limited to, my sense of identity and my dream job.

Being a poor student, I didn't really have many clothes that didn't fit with that life. And being very fat, i couldnt exactly go to a mall and buy fast fashion that suited me better for cheap. So, I find myself almost a year down the line with still not many clothes that make me feel good or happy or non additional grief.

Which brings me to my next set of issues. Due to sensory and temperature regulation issues, I can only wear natural breathable fibers (another thing that cuts me off from fast fashion). Between the exhaustion from my ME/CFS and my sensory issues, shopping is hard on me.

But HAHA! I think. I've been sewing on and off for near two decades now (ow my brain). I can just sew myself a new wardrobe! Besides, the non construction worker styles I like (vintage 40s-50s) is even harder to find plus sized, well fitting anyway. If I can't do my dream job, at least I can enjoy some expertly sewn (eh, close enough), perfectly (that could probably use some quotes) fitting clothes in a style I've long loved but thought impractical!

Except, here's the thing. Sewing requires energy. Laying out and cutting out fabric requires energy. It requires precision and focus and when I only have a few good hours a day and have to take care of myself and my home on top of my sewing ambitions...

Last summer I made a pair of shorts (two front pieces, two back pieces, a fly, a waist band, belt loops, 4 pockets and facings) in three days at the start of my decline, and that was on top of doing some basic renovations at my parents house. Last month, an extremely simple t-shirt (front, back, two sleeves and a neckband) took me... a week? More? And there's so much more I want to make working through my stash. Pj's that aren't falling apart. A new raincoat and a new fall coat. A simple 1950s style dress in a wonderfully loud plaid that would just be so much fun.

But this morning I was trying to get my jersey to lie flat and nearly ended up crying (knits are the devil fabric. Curse them and their comfort and stretch). There are days where it feels like there is nothing this disease won't take from me.

But at the same time... even if a year ago I could have trimmed assembled and cut out a pattern in one day, at least today I got to trim the papers? And even if cutting out that jersey took more fabric that it strictly needed to, at least I'm one step closer to having some new, hole free pjs.

So, even as i grieve the many many things I lost, I try to hold to what I still can do. And also rail against the world for making things harder for fat people than they need to be. Because seriously, I'm having to learn to make my own patterns (and yes, they will fit better but that is not the point) because most patterns (and definitely none of the big commercial ones) come in anything close to my measurements. This makes me extremely annoyed.

But yeah, to sum up, disability, fatness, grief, and hope all make a very complex ball. And I wish it could be easier

[son-of-avraham]

Person with no whimsy: Why are you trying to trick g-d with loopholes? 🙄🙄🙄🙄

[papayasector]

screw the leafs have auston’s side profile instead

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Look, I knoooow right, I knoooow I've been talking about Wyn too much, but like. my god. I couldn't have known how much Curse of Strahd was going to be exactly the right setting for her, and it's making me a little insane.

I mean, of course there's the aesthetic of it all. Gothic horror + sad, necromancy-based cleric magically infected with divine mushrooms is a pretty sweet union. But it occurred to me last session that, in a weird and fucked up way, Barovia is also probably the only place that could have made Wyn want to live again.

Because she had already signed off on most of the rest of her life, you know?? After everything that happened with her brother, she had dedicated herself to DYING, and to dying exclusively. She spent all of her time, energy and forward momentum on trying to make it so her death was WORTH it, that it MEANT something in the end. She wasn't thinking about living; she was thinking about how much her soul would weigh when she finally put her burdens down. Even when she staggered into Barovia and got told that she was expected to be part of the solution to its problems, she looked at her ragtag little party and went, "Oh. So we're not getting out, huh?" She was SO convinced that she was going to die there that she had already started to accept it, and while she wasn't planning to just roll over and let herself go, she certainly went through a rapid processing of the stages of grief! After all, what could this place be but the fitting test of her character? After she meddled in the affairs of the dead, what better way to repent than to do whatever she could for this twisted and broken land, up to and including dying for it? That's just business sense.

But then, we found out that Barovia doesn't let its dead go. We found out that there is no rest for those that die under the Countess's grip, that they are dragged into an endless whirlpool of death and undeath and reincarnation. We found out that the chances of reuniting with lost loved ones outside of Barovia were slim to none, and that any hopes of peace at the end were childish little daydreams. Wyn, specifically, found out that her tiny, secret hope that one day she could put everything down and be with her brother again was functionally impossible.

Which means that, now? Now, she has to live.

[wraithsoutlaws]

you know i had a fun little vp idea i wanted to do for the cyberpunk anniversary but i haven't had the energy to even touch it recently so i'll just settle with saying that this game impacted me in ways i never thought it would when i first picked it up 3 years ago. i knew i would enjoy it, i had been looking forward to it for a long time, and despite a ~controversial~ launch, i had a fucking blast from day 1 (on ps4 no less). regardless of bugs and memes and public dunking, the story grabbed me like nothing else could at the time, and it reignited so much of my passion and motivation for art that i had lost in the clutches of mental illness and i'll always be grateful for that. it introduced me to so many wonderful people (some whom i carry very close to my heart), and maybe most personally surprising, it gave me an outlet to understand parts of myself that i had been too afraid to acknowledge for a long time, the courage to accept and embrace myself as non-binary, and allow myself to just BE without trying to convince myself i'm crazy. that's not what i expected from the get-go but it's been a really fun journey to be on ngl

[fionnaskyborn]

pros of learning how to play fighting game:

undergoing a learning experience, trying out something entirely different from anything i have previously played

i get to look at a little guy do cool things on my screen :)

cons of learning how to play fighting game:

i am clumsy as all hell with the inputs

the order in which you press and/or hold buttons to create inputs is less like trying to get a sequence of movements right and more like playing a rhythm game (down then while not letting go of down press forward then let go of down and THEN press an attack button on the other side of the keyboard). i suck at rhythm games. hell world

sometimes, the damn things just... won't register? at all? you do a half circle to forward input and the game says "half circle forward? oh, sorry, that's ensenga :)" or, worse, "too slow, that's a regular heavy slash move :)". brother. why must you do me like this.

the area between the knuckles of my ring and little finger hurts like a motherfucker (though this has hurt in various areas since at least this morning, but i'm willing to bet that practicing quarter and half circle inputs for at least an hour did not make the situation any better)

[mariacallous]

Democrats in the U.S. Senate on Monday evening blocked a Republican-led attempt to enshrine discrimination against transgender athletes in federal law. The lawmakers rejected the Protection of Women and Girls in Sports Act. The bill, part of a more considerable conservative effort to roll back LGBTQ+ rights, failed to garner enough votes needed to advance.

After senators voted to confirm President Donald Trump's pick for education secretary, professional wrestling magnate Linda McMahon, the upper chamber considered moving forward with the anti-trans legislation. The bill was stopped by a cloture vote, which is a procedural motion that requires 60 votes to end debate and move forward. The vote was 51 to 45.

The legislation, introduced in the House of Representatives by Florida GOP Rep. Greg Steube and passed by Republicans earlier this year with the support of two Democrats, sought to rewrite Title IX protections by defining sex in athletics solely based on “reproductive biology and genetics at birth.” If enacted, the bill would have effectively barred transgender women and girls from participating in federally funded school and college sports.

The bill also called for federal studies on the impact of transgender inclusion in women’s sports and potential “adverse psychological and developmental effects” on cisgender athletes. There is no evidence that transgender athletes are a danger to cisgender peers. While it did not mandate physical examinations to determine an athlete’s sex, critics warned that its enforcement could lead to intrusive scrutiny of all female athletes.

The bill’s failure comes amid a broader, coordinated effort by Republicans to legislate transgender people out of public life. Just last month, Trump signed an executive order titled “No Men in Women’s Sports." Trump used the signing ceremony as an opportunity to spew inflammatory rhetoric, falsely claiming that men have “invaded” women’s sports and that male athletes are “beating up and injuring” women—a claim that has been debunked time and time again.

Human Rights Campaign president Kelley Robinson applauded the Senate’s rejection of the bill, emphasizing the damaging impact of such policies. “Every child should have the opportunity to experience the simple joys of being young and making memories with their friends. But bills like these send the message that transgender kids don’t deserve the same opportunities to thrive as their peers simply because of who they are. And they are impossible to enforce without putting all kids at risk of invasive questions or physical examinations just because someone doesn’t look or dress like everyone else,” Robinson said in a statement to The Advocate.

Trump’s executive order, which threatened to strip federal funding from schools and colleges that failed to comply with his ban on transgender athletes, has already triggered legal challenges. Civil rights advocates and legal experts have pointed out that executive orders cannot override federal civil rights protections, including those under Title IX, and the order is expected to be tied up in court for months.

“We should want all of our kids to have the chance to be on a team, problem solve with others, learn valuable skills, and find places to belong,” Robinson said. “Thank you to the leaders who stood up today, pushed back against those playing politics with young people’s lives, and declared that ours should be a nation where every child feels valued.”

[coldweatherhater]

i dont feel like dating like not at all lmao but i do wish i had someone i could just spend my entire day having conversations with ..

[mutalune]

Hey there

I don’t know you and I understand you never asked for an Opinion or anything

But I saw your post on waking up with 0 pain

I’m a doctor, and I’ve been treating a patient for several months now

Several weeks ago was the first time in months they slept through the night without painkillers

They got like super excited but the next night was painful again

However, a couple weeks later we had a painless night again

Then again and again and you get where I’m going

It’s like in True Detective, if you ask me - the light’s winning

Again, I don’t know you, but I wanted you to hear from a random tumblr weirdo that there’s the potential for you to get better, whatever it is you’re going through

Every time you feel okay will add up to a massive number of okays and then it’ll become your norm

I can’t promise that, but it’s quite very possible

first off thank you for wanting to spread a bit of hope, I think that’s very kind of you and I appreciate it very much 💕

second off I love hearing from random tumblr weirdos (I’m just generally god awful at answering messages and miss notifications) so thank you for that as well

I’m def trying to straddle the line between “stay hopeful and have faith that things may get better, keep trying” and “things might never get better, I may need to adjust my lifestyle to support that, AND I can still live life and find joy”, because I think both can and need to be true. I’m gonna keep trying, and I’m also gonna do my best to be kind to my body for doing its best, ya know?

Sending love to you and your patient - that’s such an accomplishment to be having more okay-days after a long time of having none, and I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed that your patient continues to stack up those okay days 💕

[garez19]

a lot to share

rich! yandere x thief reader.

reader steals from her richie rich friends, yandere male, manipulation, subtle blackmailing, class distinction, 4.4k wc.

you had always wondered how it felt to be a rich kid. a real rich kid. not the upper middle class, i mean, rich kids whose parents could afford anything and everything for them. kids whose parents invest in their children’s education, their passions and aspirations without having to worry about paying the bills.

growing up you met a handful of them, and you even befriended some. you witnessed the fact that everything they -and you, for that matter- ever wanted had always been between their lips.

you were envious, even when they were certainly generous to you. why would they not be? they always had more. they could’ve always had more. and it pissed you off. the fact that you were never, no matter how hard you tried, on the same level as them made you turn into a grumpy kid most of the time. you wanted that one toy eliza had, and you didn’t want to play with it and give it back to her when the playtime was over. you wanted it to be yours. a belonging of yours.

your mother wasn’t happy in the slightest when she found the toy in your backpack. she was angry, for sure, but there was a different kind of emotion in her face; disappointed and embarrassed. still, you could only assume how much patience she needed to have to be able to have a normal conversation with you. she tried to seem understanding, and did her very best to explain what you did was not acceptable, and how eliza must’ve been very upset that her favorite toy was gone. you remained still, but your mother could see the way your upper lip was quivering.

“eliza’s mom can buy her a new one.” you said right before bursting into tears. what was the big deal? why did she have to ruin everything for you?

“that doesn’t mean you can get your hands on their belongings.” she replied, her voice sharp and stern this time. “i’m sorry.” was all you managed to let out. she gave you a sympathetic look. then she talked a bit more, and you agreed you’d give it back to her tomorrow.

“you shouldn’t do that again.” she reminded you once more. you hummed quietly. however, you still couldn’t quite understand what was truly wrong with it. even so, you did as your mother told you. but when you saw eliza with such big surprised eyes, full of joy and a beaming smile on her face, you could finally see why your mother was so upset with you.

you were happy she didn’t try to ask questions. where did you find it? why didn’t you tell me? were you the one who took it? no, none of them had crossed her mind. “thank you,” was all she said. “mom bought me a new one,” she added. “i can give it to you if you’d like.” she said while playing with the toy. you didn’t answer. you couldn’t find the right word. you were ashamed—a new emotion you’d learned very recently.

“i don’t want it.” you mastered up all your courage. the desire was always bigger. it was bigger than shame, or wrath, it was bigger than any emotion you could ever describe. but you didn’t want someone to give it to you just because it was something they wanted to get rid of.

you wanted to conquer it instead. you wanted to get your hands on it forcefully, by grabbing it and making sure that you were the one who took it.

you ended up stealing it, told your mom she gave it to you because “her mom bought her a new one.”

soon it had become a habit. you knew how wrong it was, and you knew the consequences you had to face in a scenario where you were caught. you knew you weren’t worthy of having any friends, and the excuse of “their parents can buy them a new one.” didn’t work on your conscience anymore.

but, you couldn’t stop.

you tried your best to surpass the desire. the desire to have more, to own more, and to get to have a say in what you truly wanted in this life. you tried your hardest, so much that you even avoided rich kids like the plague.

but then he came into your life with classy clothes and a car you would have only seen in your dreams.

materials don’t mean anything to me, you reminded yourself. sure, they didn’t; what got on your nerves was the fact that they had the chance to have it, maybe. maybe it was the only reason you were angry.

none of it means anything to me. you reminded yourself.

but it was hard to do so when he was there. he was kind, charismatic and intelligent. truly an overachiever, and he certainly got it all.

you have never had such desire in a long time. the last thing you had craved something so painfully was eliza’s toy.

when you ran out of patience, you already found yourself seated next to him, glancing at the notes he took in class. first it was small remarks. then you became a familiar face for him. then you were talking to him, sharing stories and making stupid jokes, asking stupid questions.

you were weird. he could almost sense something was off with you. acting sweetly and bubbly all the time, yet he could see your eyes were dull when you looked at him. it was nothing he hadn’t seen as he had always been surrounded by people like you. sly and ready to fake any kind of demeanor.

no,

what he didn’t understand was you were still trying your best to do as your mother said. just because someone is rich doesn’t mean i can get my hands on their belongings. you reminded yourself as you found a better place for your -eliza’s- toy. more than a decade had passed, and you still didn’t grow out of it.

how laughable you were.

you observed the toy very carefully, adjusting its position and rechecking again.

as i said, the desire to own something was bigger than any meaningful sense of accomplishment. and, fairly enough, rich kids could never make sense out of something so sentimental. he could never understand such emotion. he never truly craved anything. nothing ever was over his reach, which is why he could never figure out motivation of people with tenacity.

he always knew he could get whatever he wanted. his parents didn’t hesitate to spend hundreds on toys he would play with only once. he didn’t have a favorite toy, because at the end of the day, none of them was special.

he didn’t have close friends that would truly care. he didn’t know how to forge unbreakable bonds with people, because at the end of the day, he didn’t crave anything including meaningful human connections.

he didn’t have a life-time goal. sure, he had got the best grades, but it wasn’t truly because he had the motivation. he simply had endless opportunities and didn’t have anything better to do than learning new stuff that seemed somehow entertaining.

an overachiever with no real ambition in his life.

how laughable he was.

and yet you were really getting on his nerves. it was nothing new for him really, being surrounded by girls who didn’t know how to take no as an answer. girls who wanted to taste how it felt like to be with him, to be him. girls who wanted pretty boys with a lot to share.

he hated people like you. he hated that he was only a symbol of achievement and acceptance to people with materialistic values. that was exactly when he decided to go along with you. he started agreeing with whatever you wanted to do. you had a stupid idea? all ears. you wanted him to be your project partner? sure thing. you had seen a funny video? show him.

because he really wanted to see where this was going for once. he wanted to see how much you were willing to go just so you could get what you wanted. you couldn’t decide if the change was good or not. it was unexpected, and unexpected things would make your stomach upset. you enjoyed his company, true, yet you still couldn’t get your eyes off of eliza’s toy. and you sure wouldn’t try to avert your gaze on his belongings. he should’ve known better, but you could still hear your mother’s voice in your head.

hanging out with him was fun. he was only there when you actually asked him to. he didn’t need you to check up with him because, fairly enough, he couldn’t care less about you. he didn’t consider you a friend, and he most certainly had lots of things to do. the comfort of such dynamic made you feel lighter. he made you feel comfortable unlike eliza and your other friends who found you distant the moment you tried to have some time by yourself.

hanging out with you, although hard to admit, was fun. you didn’t ask about his ambitions and such topics he wouldn’t want to answer. you were just so busy with telling him how much you hated your boss and your family matters you weren’t supposed to tell anyone. you had a lot to share. you had funny stories about high school. you had recommendations on books and songs about love. you had laughs and joy to share, even when it didn’t seem genuine to him at all.

“my friend made it, wanna taste it?” you told him. he didn’t answer. you still gave him a small piece of it anyway. he could see you actually liked sharing, and it wasn’t special to him. you were annoying, sure, but you still had qualities he liked about you.

he liked not having to talk about serious matters. he liked he had someone he could be stupid with.

and unlike he had assumed, you weren’t trying to pursue him romantically. you weren’t flirting with him, and you weren’t interested in knowing his current relationship status. some compliments here and there, small jokes about how your eyes were blinded by his light, and that was pretty much it. and weirdly enough, you didn’t appreciate it when he tried to treat you to your favorite dessert.

“how do you even call this shit a dessert?” you asked him while tasting what he had. he frowned for a second. “you’re jealous it tastes like heaven.” he said. you grimaced at him before tasting it again.

you had gotten even closer by the following months. he wasn’t quite sure if he still didn’t consider you a friend. and you were happy you didn’t catch anything you wanted to own. except his car, of course, but you didn’t want to play GTA in real life anyway, so you were good.

“are you going to come to the library tomorrow?” he asked, “for the project, remember?”

you checked the date. you rechecked it.

“i’m ditching school, can we do it the day after tomorrow?” you answered.

“oh, sure. did something happen?”

“it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

he frowned. then he also checked the date. turned out, you’d never talked about the dates of your birthdays. but he was still… annoyed for some reason. the fact that he learned about it just before the day made him uneasy. why did you not tell him? who were you going to celebrate it with? why wasn’t he invited? why was he upset over it?

mom makes a big deal out of birthdays, that must be the reason.

“okay, that’s good. what are the plans tomorrow?” he tried his very best to seem uninterested. so much that he hadn’t even said ‘happy birthday in advance’ or ‘ why didn’t you tell me?’ he was unbothered. he was completely fine.

“well, i’ll just celebrate it with my friends.” you replied. he still couldn’t hear what he wanted yet. you still didn’t offer him to join. not that he cared, no, he just. it was just an old habit from his mom. that was all. yeah. nothing else.

“oh. cool.” he said, the awkwardness taking over you thanks to his 2 worded answers.

“wanna come?” you doubted he would say yes as you remembered him talking about how much he disliked such concepts due to his mom’s exaggeration.

“yes,” to your surprise he didn’t hesitate, “sure,” nor did he waste a second. you couldn’t really hide your surprise, and he felt like he was supposed to disappear from the earth for a while.

“what? was i supposed to stay and do your stupid part too?” he laughed.

“oh and, you don’t need to bring a gift,” he lifted his eyebrow as you continued, “i mean, i don’t accept gifts. so just, bring your shiny self, okay?”

he looked at you with pure terror. no gifts, on your own birthday? his mother would’ve gone crazy. but he didn’t persist. it wasn’t easy for him to understand your perspective in many cases anyway.

the next day he truly felt bad for listening to you, because even though none of the guests had any gift for you, you truly deserved anything you wanted with that elegant outfit and your lovely smile. well, not anything. the exaggeration of birthdays was passed down to him from his mother. yeah. surely that was it.

your friends wouldn’t stop asking who he was and where you met him. was he single? wait, were you seeing him? no? good. well, happy birthday, dear.

the day ended with peace and happiness. you were thankful to your friends for being there and sharing the joy. the guests were leaving, and they didn’t forget to wish you the happiest birthday one last time. everyone left, everyone except him since he needed to answer a phone call real quick.

when he was done with it, he made his way to the kitchen to let you know he was ready to leave. that was the moment he saw it: a box wrapped in glossy yellow paper, tied with navy ribbon.

“so you accept gifts?” his voice was stern, for the lack of a better word.

“uhh, i don't,” you glanced at the present. “it’s from eliza.”

“so you accept gifts,” he said once more.

“well, what, are you jealous?” you grinned. that wasn’t the deal. his mother’s weird habits was — whatever.

“of what?” he sounded defensive, “anyway, nevermind, do you want to open it?” now he was like a little boy asking his friends to open their gifts out of curiosity. “let’s see what she got.”

you nodded slowly, gently unboxing it as he watched your hands. his gaze shifted to your expression once you were done—your mouth shaped like the letter o, your eyes glossy almost like you were crying.

he had never regretted anything as badly as not getting you a present. he knew there were times his mother was right, and yeah, he really should’ve known better.

he came up with a solution the next day: another package for you. and he certainly wasn’t any different than eliza, if not worse. even though you loved him and eliza, you still didn’t want expensive stuff from them. the little kid in you still thought it wasn’t truly yours if you weren’t the one who wanted it. when he saw you hesitate, he rested his hand on his chin. “i know you accept gifts,” he said with a faint smile.

his sharp gaze was lingering in the eyes of yours. you did your utmost to get it over with as quick as you could.

you didn’t have to know how hard it was for him to pick the ideal gift out there. you didn’t have to know he went as far as asking his old classmates from highschool to help him out. he didn’t have to tell you he kept annoying his mother—telling her she was the only one he could trust on this. she was taken aback by the sudden request as she had never seen him this excited for such occasions before. normally, he would buy whatever that seemed decent enough.

it was the prettiest bracelet you had seen. simple, and very elegant in its simplicity.

it wasn’t a gift you would -or could- buy your friends, to be honest. it was probably something you could only see on top of the counter. but, you knew rich kids had a different view on such matters. eliza never hesitated to get you such presents too, and she didn’t care which brand it was (or if it even had a brand, for that matter) as long as it seemed to look good on her.

you contemplated selling the bracelet before even getting to wear it. but his eyes were focused on your wrists, leaving you little to no choice.

you wore the bracelet, gently shaking your hand to make sure it wasn’t too loose.

“it’s pretty,” you said, still ashamed of the attention from him. you couldn’t find the correct words, and you hated the awkwardness of such words, “thank you, it’s… it’s so beautiful.” you said while looking at your bracelet. he liked your expression, and was most certainly satisfied with the reaction.

“of course, i picked it, after all,” he said with a boyish grin, certainly proud of himself.

the next day he couldn’t see the bracelet on your wrist.

did you not like it? that couldn’t be it because there was no way you could fake that type of expression. you liked it, no, you adored it, there was no way you didn’t. his eyes were on your bare wrist the whole day. the day after that, and the next day too. he hadn’t said anything, but his eyes were still.

“you think she didn’t like it?” he asked his mother. she was truly confused. there was no way her son, of all people, was nervous over a birthday gift.

“she probably just doesn’t like wearing bracelets.” she said with indifference. “some people are sensitive to how things feel on their skin.”

“she could’ve just told me.” he mumbled. he would’ve get you another gift if you asked him to. it was stupid of him, really, thinking too deeply over a stupid bracelet. but, in his defense,it was for you. from him.

even though you considered selling and getting rid of it, you couldn’t get yourself daring it. you knew he had tried to play it off, but you were able to see his content expression. and just because you felt awkward wearing it, you wouldn’t just do that to him. turned out even you had principles and some ethics. you put the gift right next to eliza’s toy as they brought a similar type of discomfort to you.

he had started to pay more attention to your sense of fashion. noting what you had wore and how you styled your hair, what accessories you wore, if you did. he tried to understand your preferences in perfumes and shampoos. you -and even he himself- didn’t even realize he did it. he kept asking his mom what type of gifts girls would like. he kept keeping track of every single piece of clothing you had. but there was still no trace of the bracelet. it was completely gone. he didn’t care if you wore accessories or not, all he cared was whether you wore that one single item he had for you.

“oh, it looks so pretty,” your friend pointed at the bracelet. “is it new?”

“oh, well, it’s been a while, my friend’s given it to me as a birthday gift.” you said, looking at the accessory.

“you should wear it,” she suggested. “it’s soooo beautiful!”

you didn’t answer. the weight of the item -of the feelings included in it- made it unable to lift your arm. but, you acknowledged you were making it a big deal. nothing wrong with using what your friends gave you, no?

no one including you could find out the reason he was so cheerful and ecstatic that day. not even his mom. he kept giving kind words to his friends whenever he had the opportunity— not something people caught him doing often. he even offered help to troubled people whose assignments were due. he greeted his mother so enthusiastically that she was almost 100% sure her son was finally losing it.

he was finally losing it, but your wrist looked so pretty with his gift on it. he couldn’t shake off the feelings of craving. he wanted your attention. he wanted you to think of him whenever you looked at your wrist. throughout his life, he finally had something to hang on to, to want, to desire. and it finally made sense to him when people had their lifetime goals they wouldn’t stop thinking about. people with undying ambitions and their dedication to do whatever it would take.

he wanted to be the subject of your attention. he wanted it bad.

you were finally losing it. because the more time you spent with him, the more you realized all that character development had gone straight into the trash—and that you weren’t fixable by any means. his company was comfortable, and you liked being around him. but, still, you could sense how envious you were. how jealous you were of his stupid car, his classy outfits, his big house and his mother who had mesmerizing eyes that were identical to his. you were upset he had everything, and you were upset there was no way you could drive that stupid car once your little hangout time was over.

you were finally losing it, because he had everything you had ever dreamed of. because he had everything, and the desire made your soul rotten.

it had started off slowly. like an old crow who adored shiny objects, you started off with a glamorous ring. it was his favorite, as you recalled correctly. and then it was his pretty bracelet, though not prettier than yours. then it was the jacket from that one luxury brand. and the list was getting longer. normally, you wouldn’t go as far as this because normally, people would start grumbling about how their stuff kept getting lost.

he was confused at first, though not exactly upset. he didn’t understand your motives as he had made it clear he was okay with sharing pretty much everything he had. he liked it when you had stuff that would remind you of him. why… did you feel the need to do that? was he not clear enough?

you didn’t accept his gifts, but you were completely okay with taking whatever you liked that belonged to him. you didn’t want gifts, but you didn’t stop pocketing his stuff. he was confused, but maybe, just maybe, you wanted little things in your house that’d make you think of him? maybe you were just too much of a loser and lacked good manners to ask like a normal human being.

no matter what the case was, he wasn’t bothered at all. even if you had ill intentions, it was no big deal, because at the end of the day, it wasn’t stealing if he was aware and okay with it.

he kept getting new jackets that seemed to fit your style. he got new bracelets and made sure you saw them.

the fact that he was totally unaware made you wonder if he was truly stupid, or just richer than you had imagined. he kept getting more and more stuff, and never mentioned anything getting lost. you were completely lost because… because it didn’t make sense at all. it had started to get annoying for you. that there was no way this man wouldn’t look for his items, nor was he even aware they were gone.

it started to piss you off. and you could feel your body getting tenser whenever you glanced at his figure. there was nothing you could do that’d affect this guy. you felt yourself distancing yourself from him. at the end of the day, the only person who was losing it was you. there wasn’t a single thing he would care about losing.

well, the only exception being you.

he could see you were annoyed, though not entirely able to tell the reason. he could see you drifting apart. and worth mentioning he didn’t take it well. things were getting more complicated day by day, and understanding you had never been harder.

there was no way you could walk away. not when he finally had someone to hold onto.

“my ring got lost again,” he mumbled while you two were working on an assignment together. you looked up at him, panic in your eyes lasted only a millisecond.

“oh…” you said, not managing to form a coherent sentence.

“it’s like… the third time this has happened in two weeks.” he peered at your wrist, the bracelet was still there. he smiled softly.

“you should’ve just told me if you had wanted a ring.” his voice was warm. it was genuine, and made you terrified of such warmth.

you didn’t answer, mouth going completely dry.

“you know how hard it is to deal with authorities, right?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound threatening at all—he was still smiling, and his voice was still the softest you’d ever heard from him.

“i…” he didn’t let you finish. “it’s okay, dear,” reassured, “sharing is caring, y’know,” you looked at his expression to catch a glimpse of contempt— to your surprise, there weren’t any.

“i just… don’t think you should be distant to people when you have their ring,” he cooed, “isn’t that right?”

he made it sound weirdly romantic. like he was the one who gave it. you had his ring, that was true, and it was almost like he was happy you did.

“i’m sorry,” you finally managed to speak up. he shaked his head. “nothing to apologize, dear, the only problem we have is,” he gazed at your hands—stripped of any jewelry, “we need to find a ring that actually fits your finger.” he smiled.

you didn’t know how it came to this, but it was too late to reject any gifts.

[sadburntbread]

BATFAM X NEGLECTED! MALE READER

----- Warnings before you read ----- Child Neglect, Bullying, Death, Violence, Slight swearing, Angst

"My child, my pride and joy" your mother's voice was soft and quiet, she touched the side of your cheek still chubby with baby fat "should there ever be a day when I am not here with you, then you must learn to care for yourself. You must never give your heart to those unworthy". Her words carrying the weight of years of personal experience. She was the wife of the Bruce Wayne, although it was because of an unwanted arranged marriage. her long hair framed her face as she sat in the bay window, overlooking the rain falling down on Gotham, the moonlight casting a soft glow on her face.

"Mama?" your confused face caused her eyes to soften, she picked you up and sat you in her lap. She casted a sad look at you and hugged you tightly.

"M/n, listen to me" Her voice turned stern, you nodded and focused your childish doe eyes on her "you are only eight my boy, you do not yet understand how cruel this world is.", She let out a sigh "I pity you; your father is a busy man, who never spares us the time of day. Your mother is weak in both will and heath. You only have Alfred to truly rely on". Tears were streaming from her eyes as she looked out the window, no longer being able to look you in the eyes. "I wish for you to break out of these chains that bind me. Live a life where you can smile freely. promise me that, m/n".

Over the next few years Bruce brought in many children. Dick was nice, he was cheerful but never had time for you, much like father. Jason was the best brother, you two always spent time together, however, one day he died. Tim... was ok... you were still grieving from Jason's death, and Tim never cared to look your way. Cas and Steph were just... there, Bruce was always training them, and they didn't think you were worth their time. After all, you were simply the spoiled young master Wayne. Lastly, Bruce, he never spent time with you other than at galas. When you went to the galas with your parents and adopted siblings, Bruce would treat you as his precious son. However, your mother could never look at the scene for long, knowing the true neglect that you didn't even know you were experiencing. Aside from that, life was fine. You still had your mother who loved you more than anything, and you had Alfred. Alfred thought of your mother as his own daughter and treated you as his grandson. You did good in school, always wanting to see your mother's smile when she saw your grades.

However, your whole life turned upside down the year you turned 12. Your mother died; her health had been deteriorating ever since you were born.

"Baby..." her voice was shaking, you held the had she reached out, watching as her dazed eyes couldn't find you. The only other person in the room was Alfred, " 'm sorry" Her voice broke into a sob "I'm so sorry for bringing you into this terrible place, please... Please forgive me". Her hand trembled in your grasp; tears streamed down your face.

"I could never blame you mom" you promised, at your words she smiled. With the last of her strength, she spoke again.

"Remember.... don't give... your heart to... these people". Her voice faded and her hand went limp in your hold.

"MOM!", you yelled "MOTHER PLEASE!" Alfred pulled you away from your mother, you cried in his shoulder. Your sobs echoed through the halls of the manor.

Your light was gone.

Her funeral was miserable. Bruce and your adopted siblings came, but only for appearances. As soon as the basic courtesies were over, they all left. You stayed there for the whole day and deep into the night, until Alfred made you get some rest.

After your mother's death, Bruce had you train like all your adopted siblings, it was grueling. He never taught you one-on-one, he had you watch him train the other then practice on your own. He always got so disappointed when you couldn't match pace with the others. However, you wanted to please them. Make them proud. "Foolish child" you could hear your mother say

It was around this time when Jason returned, you were so excited. finally, someone who you could spend time with, you were so lonely. But he was never the same boy you once knew, he was now cold and distant. He looked at you in annoyance... Just like the rest of them.

Days in the Wayne manor passed slowly, you followed your regular routine day by day. Wake up, got to school, go home, do schoolwork, do night watches, sleep and repeat. Things changed when father brought in your half-brother, Damian. Sure, at first you were upset that your father cheated on your mother, but now you had someone you could spend time with and relate to. You thought he would go through the same neglect, instead, he was loved, welcomed. Nothing like you.

"He's had a hard life", they'd say "you wouldn't understand, you've had everything handed to you and all the love you could want". It repeated in your head, all you did was ask why he got more love than you.

It wasn't fair... IT WASNT FAIR!

No... Calm down, take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it. Repeat.

Your mother taught you that when you'd start throwing fits, she was right. There was no use in getting upset over something you couldn't change... You'd just have to prove them wrong, be the best vigilante there ever was.

Damian was the worst. He thought of you as competition, you just wanted to be his friend.

"You know", Damian began, you had asked him to hang out, he was your younger brother after all, and you have to be a good brother like Jason used to be "It's your fault your pathetic mother died".

"...What" It wasn't a question. It was a dare, "Say that again. Do you have a death wish?" Now you were standing right in front of him, your frame towering over him. The empty living room became even more silent.

"I said", He didn't back down, instead, he stood tall "You caused your mother's death. I mean, think about it. If you hadn't been born than your mother wouldn't have fallen ill". you pushed him against the wall, pinning his shoulder with enough strength to break it, if he were a normal person. "Never mind, it wasn't your fault" Oh? was he back down? No... his smirk spread "it was your mother's fault for being so weak"

WHACK

you punched at his face; he moved but you still hit the side of his cheek, then he started punching back. it became a back and forth of fists. The two of you scuffling on the floor before a voice rang out.

"What the hell is going on here!?", you both looked over. It was dick, he was followed by the rest of your adopted siblings. Both of you let go of the other, your breathing ragged. You noticed Damian's breathing was steady, as if he hadn't just been fighting. Monster

'"He-" You tried to explain yourself, but Dick cut you off. He stormed up to you, his expression was furious, and he smacked you...hard. You stood shocked, your head turned to the side and your eyes wide in disbelief, you put your hand to your burning cheek.

"You are older than him! I don't care what excuse you have, you should know better!" Dick yelled, he grabbed you by your wrist and began pulling you. "We're going to see Bruce, you can explain yourself to him". Dick dragged you to Bruces's office, his grip was painfully tight. When you two stood Infront of the doors to his office you felt dread fill you. It wasn't your fault. It was Damian's. you repeated in your head. Dick pushed the doors open quickly, Bruce looked up at his arrival, waiting for an explanation. He always just ignored you; he'd say that he was too busy and to come back later. "He was fighting with Damian. The kid just started punching him." Dick explained. You froze as your father's disapproving eyes turned to you.

NO! that's not how it happened! You had to defend yourself, say something...ANYTHING. "He-he said mother was weak! That I was the reason she died!" You stuttered as you tried to explain. He'd understand, surly. However, your hopes were crushed when Bruce's expression didn't change, when it didn't soften in understanding.

"Dick, Leave us. I'll talk with him". Bruce instructed. Dick sent you a quick disappointed glare then left, the door closed with a slight slam. The office was quite before Bruce let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I understand that you were upset. However, that is no reason to hit your younger brother". His gaze turned to you, then back to the papers on his desk. "Aside from that, I've been meaning to talk to you".

Oh? He wants to talk to you? That has never happened before. You felt yourself getting excited, forgetting all about the scuffle with Damian.

"I have decided to make Damian the heir to the Wayne Enterprises". Bruce didn't even look at you. He never does.

"...What?" You couldn't stop the question from slipping out. No, you had to defend your position, Mother's position. Consequences be damned. "No, you can't! He is an affair child; I am supposed to take over the company!"

That was a mistake. Bruce glared at you, his piercing eyes shutting you up quickly. "Do not fight with me child. The decisions already been made. Now go get ready for your night watch". That was it. The conversation was over. When you walked to your room you passed by the living room full of your adopted siblings, all joking with each other. You watched them for a moment before made eye contact with Damian, then, he smirked.

After it became public that you were no longer going to take over Wayne Enterprises, people outside the manor stopped being kind to you. After all, you were no longer the heir to the company, why should they care about you?

That leads us a couple years in the future, to tonight, the night was hauntingly beautiful. On this night Batman and his crew of sidekicks were all out because the Joker had gotten a new toy. Some beasts with something akin to tendrils. You all had to split up, Cass and Steph, Dick and Jason, Tim and Damian. you were sent off on your own, like always. But it was fine, you were used to it. You had gotten stronger, both emotionally and physically.

but tonight was different, you couldn't handle it. you and Batman were in the same general area; however, you were both distracted with your own fights. Then a quiet voice could be heard, one that was not the joker's, you looked over and saw an elderly lady in the middle of the shopping district you were fighting in. A tendril flew at you before you could run to her, you blocked it and turned to the lady.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?", you yelled at her, she looked at you, a helpless look in her eyes. She was confused. "EVACUATE!" At your yelling, Batman looked over to you two, his eyes widened as he noticed the lady. Batman quickly finished off the beast he was fighting then turned to the lady, a tendril rushed towards her. Batman rushed to grab her first, it was close, but he successfully caught her and dropped her nearby safely.

However, the tendril turned and rushed towards you. Too fast for you to react, all you could do was yell. "DAD!" The first time you had said that in such a long time.

It was too late. The tendril pierced through your stomach.

It went quiet. You couldn't hear or see anything. Couldn't hear Batman's yell of your name, couldn't see him rushing to you. All you could see was the black tendril in your stomach. your vision got hazy, and you dropped.

You were caught, but you couldn't see who. It was terrifying, the cold you felt. Did mother feel the same way?

There was a voice... Who's? Their tone was begging. Was there anyone who cared enough to beg you to stay?

You were so, so tired... Then you saw her....

Mother

"DAD!!" Your voice cut through the air; Batman looked to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you being pierced through.

"M/N!!" Batman didn't even know he could sound so desperate. His son was going to die, just like Jason. He rushed to your side, pulling off his cape to wrap the wound. when the cape was tight enough, he grabbed you, carrying you to a distant building, one untouched by the enemy. He had to fight his way through the area, it was difficult with you in his arms, but he made sure you didn't get hurt any more than you already had. "Don't you die on me, m/n! I promise to treat you better. Don't leave me, not like your mother". He mumbled pleas as he carried you, and even more after he set you down. After he was sure you were still breathing (Although shallow and rough) Batman spoke into the communication device all of his children shared. "M/n is injured. Clear your area and hurry to [-----]. I have him resting safely in an abandoned building, we need to take him back to the manor, I'm not sure how much longer he'll last". It was less than a minute before multiple worried voices came though the mic, promising to be there soon. Batman pushed the hair from your sweaty face, "I won't let you die". With that he rushed back to the thick of the battle.

It was less than 20 minutes later when the rest of the Batfamily arrived, with them all working together they were able to take down the beasts and the joker relatively quickly. As soon as the battle was over Nightwing turned to Batman.

"Where is he!? Where is M/n?!" Nightwing's voice was rushed and out of breath from the fight, the others behind him listened closely for Batman's answer, they were all in a similar state as Nightwing. Batman pointed to an abandoned building, still untouched by conflict. No words needed to be spoken; they all took off in that direction. However, they paused as a laugh cut through the air, they all looked over to the source, it was the Joker. In a weak voice, Joker spoke.

"Boom" At his word many nearby buildings exploded, including the one batman set you in.

"NO!" Red Hood yelled, he felt terrible, he took his anger for Batman out on you, his baby brother. The same brother he swore to protect. They all took off, rushing to the building, holding onto hope that you somehow survived. The building you were set in was completely destroyed, but they all keep searching, they needed proof you were truly gone.

Damian paused his search, before quickly moving stones. His sudden hurry caused the others to all join him. they found something...

bits and pieces of batman's cape, then.... an arm... your arm...

You were gone, and they never had the chance to apologize, to spend movie nights with you, to take you out to eat, to celebrate your birthday.

It only took your death for them realize they failed you.

TO BE CONTINUED

[xinganhao]

🍨 svt spoiling their partner.

★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful

ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡

🍨 read more?

seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.

jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.

shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.

junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.

soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.

wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.

jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.

seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.

mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.

minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.

seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.

vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.

chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[alexiroflife]

Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤

“promise”

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: see above

to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt

WC: 5,668

Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.

Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.

You’re pregnant.

You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.

But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.

And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.

You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?

You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.

His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.

“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”

“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”

“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”

You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.

Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?

It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?

You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.

Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.

Not the way you have.

Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.

…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.

Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.

You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.

Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.

You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.

You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.

It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.

The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.

And therefore, you know what you have to do.

After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.

But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.

You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.

It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.

The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?

He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.

His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.

He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.

Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”

His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.

Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.

He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:

This isn’t working out.

Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls.

The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.

Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?

Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.

Dear Toji,

This is not working out.

But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.

But in this case, that love is not enough.

I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.

By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.

Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.

Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.

And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.

You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.

With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.

Love,

Your doll

You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.

You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.

Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.

Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.

But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.

You shift. “What are you doing here-“

“What the fuck is this?”

Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.

“Toji, I told you not to come…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.

“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.

“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.

“…I am,” you mumble.

Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”

“I said… I am.”

“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.

“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.

“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.

“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”

“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”

“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”

Your face falls. “…what?”

“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”

You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”

Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.

You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.

“Toji!” you exclaim.

“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”

“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.

“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”

“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.

“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”

“No, Toji.”

“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”

“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”

“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.

You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.

“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”

You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”

“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”

“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.

“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”

You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.

“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”

Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.

“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”

“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I know, but-“

“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”

You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.

“Out with it, now.”

You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.

You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.

His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.

He’s going to leave you.

You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.

“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”

He twitches. “Hold on-“

“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”

“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”

“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”

“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”

“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.

Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”

“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“

“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”

“No, but I want you to have what you want.”

“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”

“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”

“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”

“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”

You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.

He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.

“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”

A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”

[readwritealldayallnight]

Learning

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“Said it would’ve made too much of a mess. Waste o’ his money.” Simon says, slopping another spoonful of pumpkin guts into the large bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. Your usual table cloth has been switched out with an array of this weeks newspaper, the black and white print covered in the sticky remnants of your idea of fun on a Friday before Halloween.

“Not even one?” You attempt to pose the question casually, hoping to disguise the sadness in your tone, concealing the way your heart breaks at the thought of a young Simon Riley having never carved a pumpkin, his father not even allowing him to partake in that simple tradition so many others enjoy.

“S’alright, lovie.” He says, seeing right through you and recognizing the hurt you hold for him, an indication of your longing to only see love and joy in his life. If only you knew that’s everything you give him. “Did watch a mate o’ mine shoot his pellet gun at some pumpkins one year, if that makes you feel any better.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make you laugh, digging your spoon a little harder into the sides of your own gourd as if it were the one to have wronged you.

“Well then I’m glad I ignored you and got them anyways.” You declare, giving each pumpkin a loving little pat on its side. Simon had told you outside the grocery store, seeing your eyes land on the bright orange displays outside the shop, that they weren’t necessary.

But the both of you knew he would never deny you anything you wanted, and so he ended up carrying the two large pumpkins under each bicep and to the car himself, not letting you lift a finger.

“How’s the inside of yours looking?” You ask him, coming around to his side of the table, affectionately running a hand through the strands of hair at the base of his skull, glancing into the pumpkin he tilts in your direction for you to see. You can feel a shiver go through him at your touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

You’re glad he’s home with you, where he can relax, allow his biggest stresses to be his girlfriend ogling his arms as he carved open the tops of pumpkins and gutted them with efficiency.

“You’d have to tell me, love, but I think that’s as empty as it’s gettin’.” He emphasizes by tapping his spoon on the side of the sphere, listening to the dull, hollow echo it gives.

“Looks perfect. Nice work, Simon.” You tell him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping back over to your seat, leaving him looking a few shades redder than before. “Know what you’re gonna carve?”

“It’s- it’s just a face, innit?” At your question, Simon finds himself pausing. He might have had a different childhood than most, but he wasn’t daft, he knew what a jack o lantern was supposed to look like. Carved eyes, a wicked grin or large frown, sometimes even a nose in between them both.

He didn’t consider himself to be a crafty person, but he’d been a butcher for crying out loud, he could carve some shapes into a pumpkin until it resembled a face, no problem. So why are you asking him about what he’s going to carve.

“Well yeah, that’s the go to, for sure. A classic.” You reassure him, noticing the slight tension returning to his shoulders. “You can carve a face, my love. Some people just do different, they get creative with it.” Shrugging, you grab the marker you’d set aside, beginning to map out the lines for where you plan on carving your own design. You’re distracted, eyes darting between your sketching and your phone where you’ve got the inspiration photo pulled up for reference.

You don’t notice Simon’s eyes squinting ever so slightly at you before darting to the pumpkin in front of him. ‘Get creative with it’? Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re expecting him to do? Hoping he’ll do? He glances over at you again and notices you’ve got a bloody reference photo and everything??

He finds his cheeks beginning to burn for a different reason now, feeling stupid over not realizing you could carve more than the standard jack o lantern faces as a tradition. Obviously, you can carve anything you want into a fuckin’ pumpkin, he just didn’t know, he hasn’t done this before, and now he’s gone from feeling almost confident to worried he’s about to make a fool out of himself over something as childish as this.

“Simon.” You say, always more in tune with him than he realizes. “It’s okay, carve anything you want. I’m excited to see what you make.” You smile warmly at him across the table, a small socked foot going to nudge his ankle as well. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be fun.”

He scoffs at your joke but doesn’t fight the smile that etches onto his face in return. He accepts your distraction when you ask if you should put on some music in the background, walking towards the record player. As he flips through the stack of vinyls, he thinks about just that, what he could possibly carve into that bloody orange sphere sat on his kitchen table, that would be fun.

Searching through any memories he considers as being ‘fun’, he finds a common factor: you. And there’s one more reoccurring element sewn into the fabric of those treasured memories as well: your laughter.

With that in mind, it’s actually quite easy for Simon to decide on what he’ll do finally. And almost an hour later, after you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into your own pumpkin carving and deciding that the results ended up being just meh, Simon has decided that he’s undeniably the winner of the evening when he spins his creation around and has you nearly crying with laughter, insisting between wheezed breaths that he’s going to make you pee your pants, only leading to Simon’s own laughter bellowing out.

Not too bad for his first time learning.

~~~~~~~~~~

(The kind of pumpkin I’ve decided Ghost would carve 😂)

[moonstruckme]

Hello! I've recently read your 'Remus x hearing impaired!reader' and it was sooo sweet and I adore your writing so much ;-;

Do you think you'd be up to write bf Remus x reader who was born deaf, but never had the option to afford hearing aids or a speech therapist as a kid, so they've also been mute for most of their life - but they work hard on themselves and one day, when Remus comes home, they greet him verbally, like 'Hi, Remus' with a bit of a nervous smile? Like the first thing in their life they decided to say was his name? ;-; I would melt ;-;

Take your time (and feel free to skip this ask!)! Hope you're having a great day lovely!!! <3

Ty for requesting <3

cw: reader is (mostly, or at least up until this point) selectively mute, and while reader in this fic has decided she really wants to use speech I do also want to emphasize that Remus would be perfectly happy and just as in love if she never did

Remus Lupin x hearing impaired!reader ♡ 460 words

When Remus comes home, he finds you first thing. It’s part of his daily routine. Sometimes you make it easy for him; you’ll be in the kitchen or at the table by the window, and the movement of his entry will catch your eye. Other times Remus goes in search of you, finds some gentle way to get your attention and let you know he’s home. Today, you seem to have been waiting for him. 

Your book is cornered by the time he steps inside. You set it down on the coffee table while he closes the door behind him, and Remus watches you as he sits to take off his shoes, bemused. Expectant, though he doesn’t know of what. 

He signs hello. 

You keep your eyes on his, a little smile taking you before you open your mouth. “Hi, Remus.” 

Remus freezes. His lips part, and for a moment no sound comes out. Your words were slow and unsure, but they were your words. And his name. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Remus remembers to sign only belatedly, but you must read his lips, your grin spreading as he speaks. 

He finds himself standing with one shoe still on. He walks as if in a daze to where you are on the couch, sitting across from you on the edge of the coffee table. 

He signs, throat tight, “Where did you learn to do that?” 

“I’ve been practicing,” you sign back. You’re smiling big, beautifully proud of yourself. Remus finds his own smile irrepressible. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

His eyes burn. Remus laughs, wiping underneath them. “You said my name.” 

“I wanted it to be one of my first words.” Your eyes are warm with earnestness. 

Remus is overcome. He takes your face between his hands, kissing you. It’s unlike him—not the kissing you, but affection given so suddenly, so forcefully—but you preen, so he keeps doing it. Kisses pressed to your lips, your face, until he’s working his way down your neck. Remus rests his lips over the center of your throat. 

“You have a lovely voice,” he signs when he pulls away. 

You grin. “Really?” 

Remus nods. “Will you say something else for me? You don’t have to.” 

You look eager, but shy. You wet your lips. “Hi,” you say again, softly now. Remus smiles so hard his cheeks hurt. 

“Hi,” he signs, laughing. “You sound so beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” You look pleased, as you ought to be, your cheeks appling with joy. 

“Thank you.” Remus’ eyes are wet again; he decides he doesn’t care. “I love you. Thank you for the gift, sweetheart.” 

“I love you,” you sign back. Your eyes light with an idea, a look Remus likes very much. “Maybe I’ll learn to say that next.” 

[rafedarling]

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: your 4-year-old son, rustyn, has decided that he needs a sibling—and he’s not shy about telling everyone. from grandparents to cartoons, rustyn finds a way to make his wish known, much to the amusement of you and drew.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, toddler curiosity, family humor, and loving reflections on parenthood.

au: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

It was the kind of peaceful morning that felt like a small luxury—quiet, warm, and full of simple, slow moments. Drew was seated next to you, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression, while your 4-year-old son, Rustyn, was already up and playing in the living room.

The sound of toy trucks rolling across the floor accompanied Rustyn’s imaginative play as he created stories for his toys, his little voice full of excitement. You smiled to yourself, feeling your heart swell at the simple joy of hearing him play. Life had become so much sweeter since Rustyn had arrived—a bundle of curiosity, energy, and love wrapped into one tiny human. You and Drew often marveled at how quickly Rustyn seemed to grow, learning new things each day and filling your home with laughter.

The peace of the morning, however, was soon interrupted as Rustyn toddled into the kitchen, clutching his favorite stuffed bear in one hand and dragging it behind him. His expression was serious, a little too serious for a 4-year-old, and it instantly caught your attention.

Climbing up onto Drew’s lap with determination, Rustyn placed his tiny hands on his father’s chest, his wide blue eyes staring intently up at him. “Dada,” Rustyn said, his voice laced with that innocent curiosity that always made your heart melt.

Drew blinked, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Rustyn. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, smiling as he brushed a hand through Rustyn’s messy morning hair.

Rustyn shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on Drew’s shirt as if he had something very important to say. His voice was sweet but serious as he finally spoke again. “Dada, can I have a baby?”

Both you and Drew froze for a moment, your eyes widening as you processed the unexpected request. You had expected him to ask for another story or maybe breakfast, but a baby?

You exchanged a quick glance with Drew, both of you barely containing your laughter. Rustyn, however, remained completely serious, his innocent eyes blinking up at his dad, waiting for an answer.

“A baby?” Drew repeated, trying to hide his amusement. “You mean like a baby doll, Rusty?”

Rustyn shook his head quickly, his little brow furrowing in frustration. “No, Dada,” he said with the kind of determination only a toddler could muster. “I want a real baby. A baby brother or a baby sister.”

You nearly choked on your coffee, coughing lightly as you set your mug down and stared at Drew in disbelief. Drew, still holding Rustyn, raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly caught off guard.

“Buddy,” Drew began, trying to navigate the situation delicately, “that’s… well, that’s not something we can just get right away.”

Rustyn looked confused, his big eyes darting between you and Drew. “Why not?” he asked, as if the concept of not being able to have a baby immediately was beyond comprehension.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how earnest Rustyn sounded. It was clear that he had no idea how big of an ask this was. And yet, his innocence made the situation all the more adorable.

Drew glanced at you, his eyes pleading for backup. You took a deep breath, deciding to step in and explain.

“Well, sweetie,” you began, leaning forward slightly to meet Rustyn’s gaze, “babies take time. They don’t just show up like toys or presents. It’s something Mommy and Daddy have to decide together, and then we have to wait.”

Rustyn’s expression softened slightly, but the determined look didn’t leave his face. “But I want one now,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of pure, heartfelt longing that made you want to scoop him up and promise him the world.

Drew chuckled softly, bouncing Rustyn gently on his lap. “I get that, bud,” he said, his tone affectionate but firm. “But like Mommy said, babies take time.”

Rustyn pouted, his tiny lips forming a small frown as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna wait,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You exchanged another glance with Drew, both of you clearly realizing that this was only the beginning of the conversation. Rustyn wasn’t the type to let things go easily, especially when he set his heart on something. And from the look on his face, it was clear that Rustyn had already decided that having a sibling was at the top of his list.

Drew sighed softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “How about we talk about this later, okay? Let’s get through today first.”

Rustyn nodded reluctantly, though it was obvious he wasn’t fully convinced. He slid off Drew’s lap and padded back into the living room, but not before turning back to you both with one last, pleading look.

“I really want a baby,” he said again, his voice full of hope.

You smiled, feeling your heart melt at his innocence. “We’ll think about it, baby,” you promised, knowing that this was going to be a long conversation.

As the days passed, Rustyn’s request for a sibling didn’t fade. In fact, it became a constant part of your conversations—at the breakfast table, during bedtime stories, and even when you were out running errands. It seemed like everywhere Rustyn went, he found a way to bring up babies.

One day, while you were grocery shopping together, Rustyn spotted a woman pushing a stroller with a newborn inside. His eyes lit up instantly, and before you could stop him, he was tugging on your hand and pointing eagerly at the stroller.

“Mommy, look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. “Can we get one too?”

You laughed softly, gently guiding him away from the woman and her baby, who thankfully hadn’t heard him. “Rustyn, sweetie, we’ve talked about this,” you reminded him. “Babies don’t just show up like that.”

Rustyn’s face scrunched up in frustration, and he pouted. “But I want one,” he said, his voice filled with longing.

You sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I know you do, baby. But you have to be patient.”

Rustyn let out a small, frustrated sigh but nodded, clearly not happy with the answer. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.

The next time Rustyn brought up the topic was during a family dinner at Drew’s parents’ house. You, Drew, Rustyn, and Drew’s parents—Todd and Jodi—were gathered around the table, enjoying a relaxed meal together. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and stories, until Rustyn, who had been playing with his food, suddenly spoke up.

“Gigi?” Rustyn asked, his voice full of curiosity as he turned to Jodi.

Jodi smiled warmly at her grandson, always eager to listen to whatever was on his mind. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I have a baby brother or sister?” Rustyn asked innocently, his wide blue eyes blinking up at her.

The room fell into a stunned silence as everyone processed Rustyn’s question. Todd choked on his water, coughing lightly as he shot you and Drew an amused look. Jodi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving Rustyn a sweet smile.

“Well, Rusty, that’s something you’ll have to ask your mommy and daddy about,” Jodi said with a soft chuckle, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I already did,” Rustyn replied earnestly, his little face serious. “But they said I have to wait. I don’t wanna wait, Gigi. I want a baby now.”

Todd let out a loud laugh, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Sounds like someone’s eager to be a big brother, huh?”

Rustyn nodded vigorously, his little face lighting up with excitement. “Yeah! I’ll share my toys and read them stories!”

You and Drew exchanged a look of amusement mixed with slight embarrassment. It was clear that Rustyn wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and now he was dragging everyone else into his mission.

“Well, Rusty,” Drew began, his tone gentle but firm, “we’ve talked about this, buddy. Babies take time, remember?”

Rustyn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted. “But I don’t wanna wait.”

Jodi laughed softly, patting Rustyn’s back. “Patience is a good thing to learn, Rusty,” she said kindly. “You’ll have to trust Mommy and Daddy to know when the time is right.”

Rustyn nodded, though he still didn’t look completely satisfied. “Okay,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated by the lack of immediate results.

Todd chuckled, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “You’ll make a great big brother one day, kiddo.”

Rustyn’s persistence didn’t stop there. One evening, while the three of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a cartoon, Rustyn spotted a baby character on the screen. His eyes widened with excitement, and he turned to you and Drew, tugging on Drew’s sleeve.

“Dada! Look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “Can we get one like that?”

Drew laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around Rustyn’s shoulders. “Rusty, we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “Babies don’t work like that.”

“But I want one,” Rustyn pouted, his big blue eyes looking up at Drew with a mix of confusion and determination. “I’ll take care of them, I promise!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning in to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “Sweetheart, I know you’re excited about the idea of a baby. But you have to be patient, okay? Babies don’t happen right away.”

Rustyn sighed dramatically, his tiny shoulders slumping as he settled back against Drew’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.

Drew gave you a playful look over Rustyn’s head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Looks like we’re in trouble here,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You grinned, shaking your head. “He’s not going to let this go anytime soon, is he?”

Drew sighed softly, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Nope. He’s determined. We might have to start planning.”

Rustyn perked up at the word “planning,” his eyes wide with hope. “Does that mean we’re getting a baby soon, Dada?”

Drew chuckled, pulling Rustyn into a hug. “Maybe, buddy. Maybe one day.”

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with that answer—for now. “Okay! I can’t wait!”

That night, after Rustyn had finally fallen asleep, you and Drew sat together on the couch, reflecting on the day’s events. Drew had his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned against him, both of you laughing softly at how persistent Rustyn had been about wanting a sibling.

“Can you believe how determined he is?” you asked, smiling as you snuggled closer to Drew. “He’s never been this focused on anything before.”

Drew laughed, resting his chin on top of your head. “I know. It’s pretty sweet, though. He just wants someone to share his world with.”

You smiled, nodding as you thought about Rustyn’s pure heart. “He’d make an amazing big brother,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection.

Drew squeezed your hand, his expression softening. “He really would,” he agreed. “And, you know… I wouldn’t mind giving him that one day.”

You looked up at Drew, your heart swelling with love. “One day?”

Drew nodded, his smile warm and full of love. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve got a pretty great thing going here, don’t we?”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. “We do,” you whispered.

As you sat there in the quiet of the evening, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but think about the future—the possibility of growing your family even more. Rustyn’s sweet persistence had sparked something in both of you, and though it might not happen right away, you knew that when the time was right, you’d be ready.

For now, though, you were more than happy to enjoy these moments—the love, the laughter, and the joy of having Rustyn in your life.