#and then when I bring it to her she says ''you should get therapy'' as if I'm crazy. I'm going to hurt myself. I am going to hurt myself.
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mostowa · 16 hours ago
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After 7x06
So basically my relationship with The Rookie after 7x06 is a bit like Tim and Lucy's after conversation. I did watch. I did rewatch. I still don't understand some stuff. I really think I should say something, but I don't know what. Since I try to be good communicator (as opposed to Lucy) let me just try to collect my thoughts about stuff in a chaotic manner. Tl;dr as usual. SPOILERS.
It is very clear to me that Melissa is trying really hard to give us mad Lucy, which screenplay clearly doesn't. She tries to salvage Lucy, I think. Praise her for that, but I am still mad about the writing.
Am I the only one that didn't feel a lot of tension between them leading up to the hook up? 4x22/5x01 were way more hot, steamy and erotically packed than this. This felt random and out of character for them.
There is one scene that I absolutely love and I think it's not given enough credit in this ep: an interrogation with Tiger Guy. Particularly at the end when Chenford argue between each other and the guy and you can clearly see that Tim still feels that he should've been punished for his actions. And then there is this thing that broke my heart. When Tiger Guy says "I love her too much too hurt her. Lock me up" and TIM JUST GIVES LUCY EYES. THESE ARE THE HEARTEST OF EYES IN THE WHOLE EPISODE FOR ME. BECAUSE HE TRULY BELIEVES THE SAME WORDS ARE APPLICABLE TO HIM. MY GOD.
It was like a Best of Chenford with parallels. And I'm really grateful for that. I'm just hesitant the way it was put in the screenplay. Way too much banter and flirting. The idea of bringing positivity around them (thx Alexi Ig) feels like a regress from S6B.
I will say one thing here though. The whole 7x06 was for me an episode to prove that they really like each other's company with the Grumpy/Sunshine dynamics and with the eroticism. And I'm happy we got that. But I jumped onto Chenford train for the emotional load and this is still unresolved until we get The Talk.
The after scene was amazing, was amazingly heartbreaking and everything Eric did there deserves an Emmy. Oscar. 13st prize. Whatever. I felt his regret and inability to communicate through my bones. Tim still needs therapy. Lots of it. I hope we see this.
Remember these small posts after 6x06 that said that Lucy was also part of the problem in this relationship? Yeah. That's why she avoided the talk.
I still think that the outro was way underwhelming for those of us that sought emotional resolution here. I hope we will even get it this season, cause at this point I'm not sure. But have we ever gotten the emotional part done properly for Chenford? Hmmmm...
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doofnoof · 3 months ago
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Dunno why I fucking bother. My mom starts on her whole "things were better when people got married before having kids, the new generation doesn't do that" (she will side with whatever her environment says is Right and when a Republican is in office she starts sounding like a Republican)
I bring up what kind of shit Marc did to her. She agrees and she brings up how she couldn't leave my father. I agree. She didn't have the means. My uncle starts hovering menacingly in my view because he is constantly looking for a chance to kick my feet out from under me, and he believes that I will look for any excuse to rile my mom up when she's the one that fucking started this conversation, I haven't even said anything inflammatory, nor raised my voice, just talking.
She says "well I would have left if you had told me he was abusing you" I told her often for years what he would say and do to me and she would say "oh that's not right that's awful of him" and when I kept up her response would be anger, "what do I want her to do, she can't just fucking leave," and then it would be that I was selfish for "tormenting" her about it when her hands were tied. So I shut my fucking mouth and let him say and do whatever he could get away with in silence. Because it upset her to hear me talk about my father in that way, and she didn't believe me most of the time.
So I say "well I tried to tell you" and her response is complete denial that I did any such thing because she doesn't remember it so it didn't happen. My uncle is in my periph and he's getting redder and angrier and staring at me harder and harder because he wants me to stop talking. So I say "okay" and go back to my room.
I wish I had the gumption to just fucking blow my brains out like I should have months ago.
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prisonhannibal · 7 months ago
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the loumand relationship was actually crazy I can’t believe it lasted for 77 years. like imagine dating a guy who’s clearly not over his ex to the point that he hallucinates him when the two of you are on dates and even in bed with you and he says no when asked if you’re companions and you don’t really have compatible lives because you are a coven leader and he doesn’t really gaf about all that or the theater AND he has a daughter/sister but you don’t wanna be a step parent and told her she should die. then you massively fuck him over and try to get him killed bc you don’t trust that the relationship will last, but he survives (because of his ex) so you apologize and he tells you he will never forgive you, and then you guys meet up with the previously mentioned ex (who is also your ex, allegedly) who calls you a gremlin and your boyfriend rubs it in his face that he’s gonna stay with you forever just to hurt his feelings. right in front of you. and you literally got his daughter/sister killed so there’s that elephant in the room forever. then you stay together for twenty more years while you lie to him the entire time about what happened in paris and he fucks and kills 100+ guys and you’re clearly mad about it but won’t tell him. you get into the worst argument ever where you’re both horrible to each other and intentionally bring up each others worst traumas to hurt each other and he reveals that he finds you boring and that spending twelve hours talking to some guy he just met about his ex was more interesting than being in a relationship with you for decades. so obviously you hold the guy hostage and psychologically torture him and then wipe both of their memories. then presumably the relationship continues in the same deranged fashion for fifty years, where you do stuff like build shelves he can’t even reach because you can fly and he can’t, but at least you got an ipad to play on in bed when the two of you are lying half a meter apart in bed. then he decides to bring back the same guy from 50 years ago to do another interview and you listen to him talking lovingly about your (allegedly) mutual ex and how good the sex was for hourssss. and somehow your solution to all of this is to make the marriage work by constantly lying, manipulating him, deleting memories from his brain and spinning a whole web of lies that you had to keep going for more than seventy years just so he wouldn’t leave you for the ex. WHY ARE THE TWO OF YOU TOGETHER! why do you want to make this relationship last!! can’t even go to couples therapy because this is a whole new type of fucked that they don’t even teach in therapy school
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cottonlemonade · 2 months ago
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Fake Dating Your Ex
word count: 2852 || avg. reading time: 12 mins.
pairing: University AU pining ex!Kenma x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff + angst
warnings: bullying
request: For a midnight snack I’ll get a 15 and 24 and go back to sleep with kenma please || fluffy-angsty, fake dating + jealousy, ex Kenma
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“Question.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask yet.”
“Fine. What?”
“How would you, as a person… as a…. as a human person”, you shook your head for a moment but then decided to roll with it, “feel about accompanying another human person to an event?”
Your ex finally looked up from the console in his hands with profound confusion written all over his face.
“What?”
Bracing yourself you tried again, spelling it out this time, “Would you please come with me to my high school reunion?”
You expected him to frown, sure, but instead of the immediate shot down he asked, “Why?”
Not a No. Okay!
Pulling up a chair from the adjacent lunch table to sit down across from him, you used your hands in a nowhere near helpful fashion to explain, “I got invited and originally I said No because why would I want to go but then this girl who used to bully me-“
“Momoka.”, he added.
“Yes.”, you said in surprise, “Her. Anyway, she messaged me and asked if it’s because we broke up.”
“How would one correlate to the other?”
“Because while we were dating I may or may not have bragged pretty excessively about you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you were all over my social media for two years and well, now you’re not, so she was asking if we split up.”
“We did.”
You tried not to click your tongue, thinking any sass would lower the likelihood of him agreeing to play along. “I know, but I don’t want her to know. So I may or may not have kinda sorta said that we are doing better than ever and just because you gained so much more popularity that we are trying to keep it on the down low and”, you took a deep breath, “she said I should bring you then and I may or may not have said Yes.”
“Y/n.”, he groaned.
“I know, I know! But I will get you SlimeBlast2 and the new Counterforce if you just pretend to be my boyfriend for one more evening. We can even leave early!”, you offered, spurred on by the fact that he hadn’t yet simply gotten up and left, “You can say that you have a planned stream that night and be back home before you know it.”
He thought about it for a moment while he resumed his game.
“Why have a reunion three years out of high school anyway?”
You mimicked her voice. “Because she is moving to America with her doctor fiancé and wants to say goodbye to everyone before she leaves. - Tch.”
He paused the game again and regarded you with a studying look. You, on the other hand, were focused on kneading your chubby fingers and not meeting his gaze.
“When is it?”
“So this is what all that streamer money can get you, not bad, not bad.”, you said as you slid into the passenger seat of his new car. Kenma didn’t comment on that. Nor did he compliment your little black dress that had him do a minuscule double take the way it hugged you in all the right ways. You broke up six months ago and instead of wallowing in a dark room as you had done, Kenma chose retail therapy - to the extent that every other day another out-of-breath mail carrier was ringing his doorbell and handed him anything from new consoles to games to figurines and even a body pillow because, thanks to you, he was now incapable of sleeping without something soft and squishy in his arms. This car was one of those more recent purchases, an impulse that surged in him around the same time he watched you flirt with a TA. He also felt the forgotten price tag itch in the back of his black button-down and matching dress pants he wore tonight.
The drive to the venue was mostly silent due to a mixture of old comfort and new awkwardness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you play with your fingers, twirl your hair, scratch at your neck, and chew your lip.
“No one forces you to go to this thing.”, he eventually said. His GPS announced that you’d arrive soon.
You stopped scrunching your dress, sighed, and looked out the window onto the well-lit row of restaurants and bars you were driving past.
“I know. Social pressure does, though.”
“You never really cared about what people thought.”
“Ha! Good one.”, you countered drily.
“I mean it.”
“You only think that because we didn’t know each other in high school. This devil-may-care attitude”, you gestured vaguely up and down yourself, “was carefully curated once I was finally free of these people.”
“So, why not just ignore the reunion and go do something fun?”
“You know, if you’re gonna keep being right and logical, this night is not gonna work.”
He smiled and rolled to a stop in the parking lot among many other cars.
“We can still leave.”
You scratched at your neck again. He reached out to grab and trap your ever-busy hand in his, laying it gently on the middle console. He waited.
“Yeah… maybe you’re-“
“Hey!”, a muffled call accompanied by knocking on your window cut you off. Outside stood one of your former classmates waving excitedly.
Kenma grimaced.
“Look who I found getting all cozy in the car!” The large private room in the restaurant was filled with a whole bunch of people you hoped to never see again. They sat on the floor around the long table, apparently a couple of drinks ahead already.
“Oh my god, Y/n! I can’t believe you came!” Momoka got up to greet you like an old friend. Her cheeks were pink and she was clearly not too steady on her feet.
“What’s this? - Is that a hickey?!”, she squealed with mock scandal, pointing at your neck.
Your hand shot up to cover the reddening mark.
“I-uh-“
“Yeah, I just… couldn’t help myself.”, Kenma said in a tone that wouldn’t convince anyone sober. Luckily no one was.
She turned to him and as if she’d known him for years she slurred, “Well if it isn’t Kodzuken! I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think you were real. I mean, of course you’re real but what would you ever want with our Y/n, when you could have anyone!” She laughed and ushered you both to sit next to her.
“I’m so sorry.”, you whispered to Kenma while cups of sake were pushed into your empty hands.
“Tell me, because I’m dying to know”, Momoka said, leaning forward, “how did you two even meet?”
The handful of former classmates in your general vicinity stopped their conversations to listen.
Kenma and you looked at each other.
“We just met at uni.”, you shrugged and pulled a platter of food closer to have something to do.
“Oh come on, Y/n-chan, there’s gotta be more to it than that.”, Momoka playfully pushed your shoulder.
“It was our first day actually.”, Kenma said, “I was sitting in the cafeteria playing a game and she came up to me with her tray and asked if she could join me.”
You caught his eyes and smiled, touched that he remembered.
“Of course, you met over food. Our Y/n loooves to eat, doesn’t she?” Momoka giggled into her sake.
Unfortunately, your mouth was just full of maki roll.
Kenma frowned.
“So, Kodzuken - or should I call you Kenma? You’re probably so tired of people addressing you by your username. Like hello, I’m a human being, too! So Kenma, what is it like being a streamer? I, personally, love YouTube. I think if I hadn’t gotten engaged”, she raised her hand to show off her ring, “I would have also gone into streaming. It looks so fun. And you’re just playing games all day. I love playing games. You could say I’m a gamer girl myself.”, she laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear like she was confessing something embarrassing, “I have played Animal Crossing over 100 hours. I know it’s too much, but what can I say, you understand, right? Sometimes you can’t put a game down for months.”
“… right.”
When he didn’t answer as bright-eyed and infatuated as she hoped, she turned to you with a devious smile, “Our Y/n should definitely do some of those… uh eating shows! You know, the ones where they just eat ungodly amounts of food at once. She’d be so good at that. Honestly”, she chuckled behind her hand, “I could have sworn she was training for that in high school.”
“Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” You pushed your untouched sake further away, stood up, and walked quickly out of the room, sliding the door closed behind you. Muffled voices, cheers, and laughter could still be heard. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a few deep breaths. Slipping back into your shoes you walked over to a corner with an open window that looked over the quiet courtyard that was closed for guests because of the snow. What a horrendous idea to even come here. Why did you think it would be any different? People didn’t change. As soon as you were in the company of your bullies suddenly you turned back to the timid little fat girl that was pushed into cold showers with her uniform on, that was tripped in the hallways, hackled in class for a wrong answer. The girl that was pointed at whenever she ate something. It didn’t matter what it was.
Normal lunch? - What a glutton!
A homemade salad? - Who is she trying to impress? As if that is gonna do anything.
It was only in university that you found people who accepted you for who you were and not what you looked like. And Kenma had made you feel loved and wanted for the first time in your life. Until he didn’t. You vividly remembered the night you broke up with him. His genuine shock when you told him that just hanging out and watching him stream was not how you envisioned your relationship to be like. After over two years of dating, you realized that you wanted more than dry texts and being the one to initiate intimacy. Kenma was a great listener and didn’t rush you into anything. He let you grow on your own and was truly happy when he saw you smile. But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t regret breaking up with him. It was the right thing to do. But whenever you felt stressed or overwhelmed you did seek out his streams. His calming voice and deadpan comments still helped you truly relax. You wondered if he missed you too sometimes.
“You’re gonna catch a cold.”, Kenma said behind you.
“Hey.”, you sighed, “Sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Don’t worry.” He came to stand next to you, close so that his arm was touching yours for a sliver of warmth. You both watched the snow fall for a moment.
“You really toned down just how obnoxious those people are.”, he noted, “I understand that you’re upset.”
“Oh, I am not upset. I am way past upset. I’m freaking miffed, that’s what I am.”
He gave a playful gasp. “Damn, not the m-word. - By the way, that girl hit on me the second you left the room.”
“Oh god, really?”, you scoffed.
“Yeah, apparently I’m on her list.” He put the last word in air quotes. “Like she can sleep with me and her fiancé would be fine with it.”
“Wooow, congratulations. Doesn’t that make you feel extra special.”, you said sarcastically.
“Absolutely.”
“Truly the bedrock of any good and healthy relationship.”
He chuckled under his breath. “I know, right? As if I’d ever want anyone else when I have you.”
A pause followed in which you were trying to find covert ways to push your face in the snow to cool it down and Kenma regretted ever learning to speak.
“Listen…”, he said after a minute or so, “why don’t we get out of here? You made an appearance, proved I’m real and now you can go enjoy your night. Maybe… maybe we can head to your place, get some pizza, and watch a bunch of those trashy Christmas rom-coms? I know Netflix is flooded with them right now.”
You stared at him for a moment, then squinted suspiciously. “I’m gonna yell at the TV, you know that.”
He smiled and his eyes softened.
“I’m counting on it.”
You looked down at your arm that was still gently pressed against his, thinking.
“Alright.”
“Alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go get your stuff then. - Here.”, he fished his keys from his pocket, “You can wait in the car, I won’t be long.”
You turned the keys over in your fingers as you watched him go, shaking your head in an attempt to smother the bubbling feelings in your chest. As you walked out towards the car, you tried to remember in what state you had left your living room when-
“Y/n?”
Very confused, you lifted your head and saw a young man standing a few meters away. He was maybe a head taller than you, broad shoulders were well hidden underneath a soft sweater and coat. Nothing about the man seemed familiar, not the glasses or the styled black hair. He must have noticed your confusion when he put a hand to his chest and said, “Izumo.”
Kenma was very glad that he wasn’t raised to be polite so he just gathered your purse, scarf, and jacket, said you both would be leaving, and closed the door behind him. Even though at most 20 minutes had passed since your arrival, it felt like you and he had stood by that window for hours watching the snow. He should tell you that he wasn’t over you.
He should tell you that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again if you’d give him another chance.
He would ask you to take him back.
His steps lengthened at the thought of being back at your place, cozy on the couch and having an absolute ball listening to you rip the movies to shreds. Pulling his puffy parka tightly around him he hurried in the direction of his car and saw you talking to someone. At first, he was worried it would be another bully but then you laughed. His steps slowed.
N…no! He was not about to lose his opportunity to get you back to some random hunk with a sleeper build. Picking up the pace again, he thought hard about what to do. What happened next was not one of his proudest moments. Kenma came to a halt next to you, lay your jacket over your shoulders, and said, “Here you go, babe.”
“Oh, hey, you’re Kodzuken!”, the guy said and had the audacity to give him a genuine smile, “I’m a big fan! I’m glad to see you two are doing well. I wondered if you might have broken up because you haven’t posted about him in a while, Y/n.”
You laughed nervously.
“No, nothing like that.”, Kenma said, and, developing a life of its own, his arm naturally wrapped around your waist, “Everything’s great.”
“That’s what I thought.”, the guy said brightly, his eyes flitting momentarily to the mark on your neck and to Kenma he added, slightly flustered now, “You got yourself a good one.”
“Did you want something?”
“I- uhm.”, Izumo blinked, perplexed, “No, just catching up. But I see you’re on your way out. Have a good night you two. And Y/n, we should totally have coffee.” Kenma pulled you closer to him. “You know, when you have the time.”
Very glad his much-practiced glare was still hitting the mark, Izumo bowed to both of you and went inside.
Once in the car, Kenma looked at you, mentally preparing himself for a scolding but found you smirking and nodding your head.
“What?”, he asked.
“Nothing just…. Didn't have you being jealous on my bingo card this year. Interesting.”, you clicked your tongue in amusement, “Very interesting.”
“I wasn’t j-“
You met his eyes and cocked your brow.
He mumbled something and turned to focus on his steering wheel so you wouldn’t see the hue of pink blooming in his cheeks.
“Izumo was bullied in high school, too.”, you explained, “So he was one of the few people I got along with. We weren’t ever super close or anything but I’m glad he seems to be doing well.”
“Oh. Well… okay then.”
“So no need to be jealous, babe.”, you echoed his tone with the last word perfectly.
His face felt even warmer.
“In my defense, he looked like he was about to ask you out.”
“Uh huh.”, you became, if possible, even more smug and clicked your seatbelt into place, “I mean, could you blame him?”
It was remarkable how quickly your confidence bounced back by simply watching Kenma squirm for an answer.
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art: 8.amidori_RN on Twitter
a/n: thank you so much to the anon for this absolutely juicy request. I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you everyone for waiting 🌱🌟
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heavyhitterheaux · 4 months ago
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Wife and Mother To Be
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Synopsis: While you and Joe are shopping for a friend's baby shower, he has a realization about his future with you.
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader
Requested by @hoodharlow 😘💕
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Standing in the baby section of Target and holding up two different onesies to compare them, your phone started to vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. Placing one of them across your arm, you pulled your phone out to answer it and was greeted by a frantic boyfriend.
“Baby! Where did you run off to this time? You said we were coming in here for toothpaste and face masks. Next thing I know, I turn around and my girlfriend is missing! Are you at Starbucks again?! You ALWAYS do this when we come in here.” You heard your boyfriend say as you picked up and didn't wait for a proper greeting.
“You were literally standing there for fifteen minutes comparing different ones so I walked away. I'm in the baby section looking at clothes. And no, I already went to Starbucks and my drink is gone so I'll need to make another stop before we leave.”
“No, no, and no. I am literally taking you to lunch so no more stops and wait a minute, why are you in the baby section? Is there something you need to tell me?” Joe asked and you immediately rolled your eyes.
“For Gabby! Her baby shower is tomorrow, remember? Just come over here and help me pick things out for her.”
“Oh, right. Be right there, I'm walking over now.”
It was another two minutes when you saw Joe coming towards you and he greeted you by placing a soft kiss on your lips.
“Wait a minute, why do you have a cart? We got a basket when we came in here. What did you plan on buying her? The entire section? Am I paying for this?”
“Joseph, will you relax!? I'm just getting her a few things and then we can go eat. Now what do you think about these?” You asked as you held up the same two onesies to show him.
“Hmm, what is she having again?” Joe asked as he was looking at both of them.
“A girl, Joe. Both of these are pink.”
“So? What's your point? I wear pink too.”
“But not something that says princess on it!” You responded to him as you laughed.
“At least not yet anyway and I like both of them.”
“Okay good. Both it is and I’m ignoring you.”
“I should ignore you for leaving me by myself.”
“Oh, that's right. I forgot that you need supervision all the time.”
“No, that's you. I'm a responsible adult. You're the one who comes in here for one thing when you tell me you'll be back in twenty minutes but an hour goes by and you're nowhere to be found.”
“And you use whatever I bring back home so you benefit from it so I don’t want to hear it.” You told him with a smirk and now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Come on and help me. Sooner we finish, the sooner we get food and go home.” You told him and he quickly agreed as he started browsing the baby toys.
Before you knew it, another thirty minutes had passed by and the two of you had a cart full of different things for Gabby. You were satisfied with how much you had gotten, but Joe was still browsing.
“Babe, come on. This should be enough.” You told him as you came up behind and wrapped your arms around him as he was now comparing two different diaper brands and you suddenly got a flashback to the toothpaste situation.
“You can never have enough diapers though, right?”
“Sweetheart, we got her four packs already.”
“Yeah, but are those really the best ones? I think that these might be better in case she has a blow out. My nephew did that to me and I still have PTSD. Therapy was needed after that.” Joe told you as he put the other diapers back and you couldn't help but to laugh.
“Not funny, babe. I didn't realize how much shit could come out of someone so little.”
“It is funny, Joseph and I wish I was there to be able to see your face when it happened.”
“Keep going and I'm not feeding you.” Joe told you as he put the diapers you had gotten in the cart back and replaced them with the brand that he wanted.
“But, I need energy in order to ride you later.” You replied and Joe immediately turned a bright shade of red as you began to laugh.
“BABE!”
“What? What'd I say?”
“You know what you said. Come on so we can go.”
Later on that night you were sitting on the middle of the floor in your shared bedroom with Joe when he walked in to see what you were doing.
“You run away from me in Target and at home. Did I do something?” Joe playfully asked as he sat across from you and began to help you wrap the gifts for Gabby.
“Nothing at all, Joey. Doing this so I can spend the rest of the night cuddling my amazing boyfriend whom I love to the moon and back.”
“Just the moon, not further?”
“Well we aren't going to the sun unless we want to burn to a crisp so yeah the moon.”
“I'll take it.”
You were folding the onesies when Joe was simply admiring you. Before he could stop himself, he blurted it out.
“When are we going to have one?” He asked and your mouth instantly hit the floor, but you tried to compose yourself.
“Um, have a what?” You asked clearly flustered and Joe simply laughed.
“You know what I mean.” Joe responded as he pulled you to sit in his lap as he kissed the top of your head while his arms wrapped around you.
“You want a baby? With me?” You asked with your voice dripping with uncertainty.
“I want everything with you. I thought that much was obvious. And not just one baby, multiple.” He answered and you turned around to look at him.
“You're serious?”
“I love you and I'm as serious as a heart attack.”
“Well you low key just gave me one.” You muttered against his chest and he laughed.
“Don't you want that with me?”
“Of course I do. I want nothing more than to make it a reality. I just didn't really know how to tell you or if you were ready. I mean you are literally at the peak of your career.”
“Baby, you can tell me anything and everything. You know that. And so what? If this is something that we both want, we're going to make it work.”
“You're not messing with me?”
“Now, why would I do that? I want to make you my wife too whenever that time comes. Mrs. Sheisty has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”
Now it was your turn to shy away and hide in his chest and all he did was laugh.
“In that case, I can't wait for you and our daughter to have matching pink outfits.”
“Oh, so you want a girl first?”
“Of course, girls run the world and she is going to have you wrapped around her little finger just like I do now.” You told him as you poked his nose.
“If that's the case, you want to get started? I heard that making the baby is the fun part.”
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4vanaa · 1 month ago
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WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 14
summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.
cw: none | masterlist | 13 | 15 |
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rafeupdates 13h
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liked by cameronstan and 54,000 others
rafeupdates rafe talking about going to therapy, working on himself, and fixing his relationship with his dad... idk if i'm crying or what 🥺 i attached the clip transcript from the interview!!
#sunshinepromo #rafeupdates
user men who go to therapy>>
user who could he be talking about?? 👀
user probably the same girl he’s been talking about in all his songs
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You stare at the chalkboard menu, your eyes scanning the options but not really reading them. The familiar hum of The Wreck—the quiet buzz of conversation, the scrape of chairs, the clink of silverware—feels strangely distant, like you’re in a bubble of your own making. You take a deep breath, trying to shake the weight in your chest.
“Still staring at the shrimp basket like it’s some life-changing decision.”
Your stomach drops before you even turn your head. You don’t need to look to know who it is.
“Rafe,” you mutter, a sharp exhale escaping your lips as you glance over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”
He’s standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, his blue eyes trained on you like you’re the only person in the room. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s run his fingers through it one too many times, and he’s wearing that same infuriating half-smirk that used to make you weak in the knees.
“Getting dinner,” he says casually, gesturing around the room. “Same as you, I guess.”
Your jaw tightens. “Then order and leave me alone.”
His smirk falters, his eyes softening. He takes a step closer, ignoring the clear dismissal in your tone. “I saw you sitting here, and… I don’t know. I thought maybe we could talk.”
You turn back to the menu, gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing keeping you steady. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s a lot to talk about,” he counters quietly, his voice threading with a kind of desperation that makes your chest ache.
Your resolve cracks, and you spin around to face him fully, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “God, why do you do that? It’s been years, Rafe. Years. Why can’t you just move on?”
He flinches, his jaw tightening as he looks at you. “You think I haven’t tried?”
“Try harder,” you shoot back, your voice sharp but trembling. “This isn’t fair. Not to you, not to me. I have a life now, Rafe—a good one. Stop showing up like this and pretending like we can just pick up where we left off.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m just… I don’t know how to not want you, okay?”
Your breath catches, and for a second, the fight drains out of you. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. “You’re the one who ended it, Rafe. You made your choice. And I had to live with it. You don’t get to come back now and act like I’m still… like I’m still yours.”
Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you keep saying that. You’ve moved on. You’ve got your perfect little life now, right? But me? I—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Forget it.”
Your voice softens, but you keep your resolve firm. “Rafe, I’m happy. That’s what matters. You should want that for me.”
He stares at you, his blue eyes searching your face like he’s trying to find something he’s lost. “I do. Of course, I do. I just… I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I saw you again.”
Your heart twists painfully, but you don’t let him see it. “That’s not my problem anymore.”
He stares at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, he looks completely lost. “You’re right. It’s not. I just… I miss you, Sunshine. God, I miss you so much.”
“Rafe,” you sigh, your voice softer now. “You can’t keep doing this to me. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
His shoulders sag, and he lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know how to stop. Not when it’s you.”
You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you grip your phone. You force yourself to stand your ground, even as your heart begs you to give in. “You have to. For both of us.”
Rafe nods slowly, like he knows you’re right but can’t bring himself to accept it. “I hope he makes you happy,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blink, your throat tightening. “He does.”
“Good,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you one last time before he steps back. “You deserve that.”
He turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Your chest feels tight, your heart aching in a way you haven’t felt in years. You blink back tears and force yourself to focus on the menu, even as the world around you blurs.
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a/n: going to therapy, so you can get your girl back?!!! i was unfamiliar with your game rafe 😏 also how much angst is too much angst 🫣
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🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous1313 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa
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mrsparrasblog · 9 months ago
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POLY 141 when you die because of being in a relationship with them.
Tw: Angst, dead, alcohol
No, I won’t pay for your therapy after reading this.
Kyle: Instead of feeling hurt, he felt rage. He was eager to kill everyone responsible. He didn’t hold back punches, and he didn’t kill with just a bullet wound. This wasn’t a mercy you got, so why should they? He tortured them until they begged for death. After everyone was dead, he realized that he couldn’t bring you back, that he missed your funeral because of this, and he cried for hours at your grave, begging for forgiveness. He wished he had been there with you.
Soap: He didn’t have the luxury of grieving and despised John and Kyle for that. Someone needed to take care of their kids, someone needed to hold everything together, and he did. He didn’t allow himself to grieve for you. He talked to your kids about you so they would never forget you. After he got all the kids to graduate, married off, or whatever they wanted in life, he allowed himself to cry for the first time.
John: He was always too close to the bottle, and your death only made it worse. For the first few months, Johnny brought him back home, but after three months, Johnny stopped, and Price’s home became the pub. “Don’t have a reason, she’s gone, Simon’s gone, Kyle’s crazy, and the kids—they know I’m not their real dad. They don’t need me.” Five years later, he made peace with everyone before he died happily of liver failure. “I’m going to see her again.”
Ghost: He knew dating him was a mistake; he knew it all along. So when he came home from his deployment with the boys and saw your dead body on the ground, covered in blood and ripped clothes, it was over. He didn’t even seek revenge. He knew what to do after Beth’s, Tommy’s, and his mom’s deaths. He was gone, left everyone behind, sent all his money to his kids, and disappeared without even saying goodbye to his boyfriends, much to Johnny’s hurt. He lived the rest of his life alone, in fear that someone else would get killed because of him. He couldn’t deny himself the chance to stand hidden in the crowds at your daughter's graduation and wedding. Seeing Johnny walk her down the aisle was his last straw.
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sunburnhurts · 7 months ago
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Tired || Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader (Battinson)
Summary: Y/n has been supportive of her husband's secret life, but she is exhausted. A year after their separation, they are reunited at Don Mitchell's funeral. The beginning of the story is before the movie, and ofc the mayor's funeral is an event in the movie. The mayors funeral scene isn't exactly like how it was in the movie, but somewhat close.
Words: 2,426
All My Stories
A/n: Hey guys! I haven't posted in a while, I'm so sorry!! I've decided to start doing batman stories, but I'm still doing Cedric ones too! Requests are open! I also wanted to add I have a lot of drafts, so I haven't posted in a while, but I have some stories in the process!
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Y/n listens as her husband, Bruce Wayne, shuffles off their bed, onto his feet. She hears his feet against the hardwood floor echoing the dead silent room. She hates it, him waking up in the middle of the night to be Batman.
Ever since he started being Batman, he's been distant. He slowly stopped touching her over the years. He's always be in a different room, on a different end of the couch, different end of the bed.
At first, she excused it as him being tired from saving the city. She would curse herself for being selfish, why should she be complaining when he is saving human beings, bringing good to Gotham? Then she got tired of making herself feel bad.
Y/n tried having conversations with Bruce about his sleep schedule, how much he eats, how much time he spends worrying about being Batman. These conversations always ended in arguments or Bruce not responding to whatever his wife said because he was too busy working on his suit.
Alfred of course noticed Bruce's distance from his wife. He would try talking to Bruce about his worry for Y/n, saying she is lonely during the day without her husband. Bruce would always brush off what Alfred said, worried about 'more important' things to him.
It's not like Y/n was a lonely house wife, she was an actress who was on break. Before she met Bruce, she was in big movies, making just enough money to start a family. When she met Bruce, of course her popularity spiked more. A big actress and a billionaire getting married was big news in the press.
She was now on break from her job because everything became too much for her. Her depression grew from lack of love from her husband. She put herself in therapy, which made her realize she wasn't being selfish. She of course didn't tell her therapist about her husband being batman, covering it up as his new job.
Now, she was listening to her husbands feet taping against their hardwood floor. She let out a breath, listening to him step into the elevator that leads to the 'batcave'. She made up her mind, she didn't want to be trapped in her life, in this mansion.
Half an hour later, she got up, walking over the the same elevator and going down.
"Bruce, we have to talk." She said, stepping out of the elevator, walking over to her husband. She had a calmness in her voice. She heard no answer. As soon as she was behind him, she stopped walking. He was working on something on his desk, she didn't care enough to know what he was working on. "Bruce."
After a hum of a response came from her husband, she hesitated with what she was about to say. This scenario seemed much more easier in her head, the countless times she replayed it in her mind. But once she saw him, it was a lot harder than she was expecting.
"I want a divorce." She plainly said. She watched as her husbands head moved, but didn't turn to look at her. "I've been thinking about it a lot-"
"Are you serious?" He said, fully turning his head around to look at his wife. His voice sounded more angry then upset.
"I've been thinking about it a lot," She repeated, ignoring his question. "and I can't do this anymore."
"Do what?" He angrily asked.
"Be ignored!" She shouted, feeling her eyes swell up. She hated that he didn't already know what he's been doing. A clenched jaw was all she got in response. "Bruce," She started. "you haven't touched me in so long."
"I've been busy, you know that."
"You know you're just saying that as an excuse." Hearing this made Bruce turn his body fully to the vulnerable, standing girl. "God, Bruce! I don't even recognize you anymore!"
He shakes his head, scoffing. He moved his eyes everywhere but his wife, his breathing heavy with anger. A ding was heard on his computer, indicating Batman was needed.
"Are you going to get that?" Y/n said, making Bruce's eyes lay on her.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, if you don't be Batman for one night, and you take me back upstairs and show me you love me, I'll take back everything I said about divorce." It was true, one kiss from him would change her mind, she was so desperate for affection and she hated it. She prayed in the back of her mind for him to get up, swoop her in his arms, and take her upstairs. But he stayed still.
He turned his head at the computer, taking a moment to decide. She watched as he got up from his chair, walking over to his suit of armor. Her heart ached. She angled her head to the ground, biting the inside of her lip and bringing her hand up to rub her philtrum. Tears stung her eyes as her throat burned.
She wanted to run to him, grab his face, kiss him. She also wanted to run to him, push him, yell curses at him, ruin all his batman equipment. But she knew better.
Beyond heartbroken, she made her way over to the elevator. She had a slight feeling of selfishness, making him choose between her and a job of a hero, but then she squashed that feeling almost immediately. It should have been obvious to pick his wife, he shouldn't have even had to think about it.
Once Y/n made it back upstairs, she started packing everything. Her clothes, shoes, anything she found that was hers. She couldn't stay there any longer, she couldn't look at Bruce any longer. She was a mess now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hiccuped her breath.
It wasn't even close to morning, she had no idea where she would be going. Her family didn't live in Gotham, they lived on the other side of the country. She had actor friends that lived near, maybe she could try them. She thought of a girl, Nicole, she worked with that she grew very close with, hoping she could crash at her place for the night.
Y/n took out her phone, clicking on Nicole's contact, and pressing call. She listened to the phone ring while she kept packing her things. "Hello? Y/n?"
"Nicole!" Y/n said in a voice that anyone could tell she was upset. "Um- I'm so sorry for such a late call, I really could use your help right now."
"Of course! What's wrong, sweetie?" Nicole said over the phone. Y/n was younger that Nicole, Nicole was like a mother figure to her.
"I just need a place to stay, only for tonight. I will be out by the morning, I promise." Y/n closed her suitcase, zipped it up and sat on her and Bruce's bed. Her head was in her hands as she tried calming down her tears.
"You can stay for as long as you would like!" Nicole's voice calmed her down, giving her the strength to walk out of the mansion.
After Y/n made a plan to meet Nicole, she hung up and made her way to the kitchen with her bags. Her memory flashed to Alfred, it wasn't fair of her to leave Alfred without saying anything. She didn't want to wake him, so she decided on making a note for him.
She grabbed a note pad and a pen, writing Alfred, thank you for everything you've done for me, I love you so much. - Y/n. Tears stained the sheet of paper, she didn't want to leave Alfred, the man who took her in and loved her when Bruce wouldn't.
When Alfred saw the note, his blood boiled. He knew this was going to happen, but he hated that Bruce let her leave. Alfred immediately busted into Bruce's room, waking Bruce up. "What did you do?" He angrily shouted, holding up the note. "Why did you let her leave?"
Bruce sat up and stretched, waking himself up before he took the note in his hand. He read it, heart beating harder. He thought Y/n just went to sleep in one of their guest bedrooms, he didn't know how serious she was the night prior.
~~~~
Months after the divorce finalized, Y/n was feeling a lot better. She now owned her own house, had a new big movie she was working on, and was happier. She of course never told anyone about Bruce Wayne's big secret, she still respected and loved him. There was no way she couldn't not love him.
Her mind would wonder off, thinking about what would have happened if he did actually pick her up, took her back up to their bedroom, loved her. She wonder if things would have changed, if he actually would have taken her seriously and been better for her. She then would bring herself back to reality, dealing with the harsh reality that that didn't actually happen, and it wasn't going to.
Y/n didn't see Bruce after that night, but she knew he was watching her. She knew what his gaze felt like, she would feel it when she walked on the street, even when she was in her home. Although she was mad at him for spying on her, a part of her loved him for looking after her, for missing her.
The media of course made a big deal about this separation. They created rumors and lies about why they split up, it was always something not even close to the truth. That Bruce cheated on her, that she was having a secret affair with her friend Nicole, or that they both were married as a publicity stunt. It was all stupid.
Whenever Y/n was asked about it in interviews, she would deny the rumors. "It was a 'right person wrong time' kind of thing, I still respect and love him very much." She would always say something of that sort to the public. It was true. She would never answer personal questions about Bruce. Mostly she was asked why he was so reserved for being so well known.
Every now and then, Y/n watched the news about what Batman did the night before. She hated that even after the divorce, he still was saving the city, but what was he supposed to do now? He now didn't have a wife to come home to, how else was he supposed to fill his time, how else was he supposed to take his anger out?
He hated himself for picking being Batman, he missed his wife so much. He ate less, slept less, breathed less. He always wanted to reach out, he wanted to hear her voice, smell her scent, feel her touch. He now knew this is how she felt when he was ignoring her. God, he hated himself.
He would watch over her, make sure she's safe. Make sure she's happy. He heard about her being in a big upcoming movie, he was glad she was living her life, even if it was without him.
When Don Mitchell was murdered, Bruce was invited to the funeral. Although he already knew more about the murder as Batman, he needed to be at the funeral just in case any information was released from anyone. It would be odd if Batman showed up to a funeral.
He dreaded going out. He barely went out in public as Bruce Wayne before the divorce, but now he avoided it even more.
Bruce drove his car through the crowd of people, following where ever he was told to go. Once he was there, he got out of the car and handed the keys to the valet and hands him some money. He hears the press screaming his name to come over to talk to them, but he of course didn't. He was there for one thing.
Bruce followed the other known people into the building, listening to any conversation he can. His eyes stayed on the ground, as if not looking at anyone would make it easier to hear. His eyes glanced up for a quick second, catching a glimpse of a girl whose back was turned to him.
He fully turned his attention to the girl, recognizing her. He stopped in his tracks, heart starting to ache. Y/n stood before him, talking to her friend who he recognized as Nicole. He watched as Nicole noticed him, nudging Y/n, bringing her attention to Bruce. It was the first time since the divorce that they made eye contact.
Y/n's eyebrows furrowed in a mix of surprise and longing. She gives Bruce a closed mouth smile, biting the inside of her lips. She looked behind Bruce, seeing that Mayor Reál was approaching him. Knowing that Bruce hates talking to people, Y/n walks over to Bruce, stopping right in front of him.
Bruce watches as Y/n walks to him, his heart racing, his arms longing for her, but he keeps them still. There was no expression on his face, but she could tell he missed her. Y/n watches as the new to be mayor notices her and walks away, leaving the 2 alone.
"Hello, Bruce." She sweetly says, smiling up at him.
Y/n spent 2 years in her marriage already feeling like they've been divorced, so it didn't take long for her to get herself back on her feet after the divorce. It wasn't hard to see him because of the heartbreak, it was hard to see his dark circles under his eyes, his prominent bones much sharper from lack of food.
"Hey, Y/n." His rough voice responded. He cleared his voice.
They started talking about how they've been since the divorce, Y/n could tell he changed a lot. He was more open to talking about his feelings with her, his eyes never left hers, his eyebrows pulled closer together and lowered as he listened to her talk.
"We should catch up more," Y/n starts, "not here, though." Bruce nods, hoping this meant good for their relationship. "Still have my number?"
"Of course," Bruce gave a ghost of a smile.
"It was nice seeing you Bruce," Y/n places her hand on his arm. "talk later?" Bruce finally broke eye contact to look at Y/n's hand placement. He missed her so much.
He nods while saying, "It was nice seeing you too, Y/n."
Bruce was never mad at Y/n for the divorce, he was always only mad at himself. He never wanted to watch over Y/n while she lived her life, but he couldn't ever help it. He wanted to distance himself as far away from her as possible, but he needed to know she was okay.
When Y/n walked away, back to Nicole, Bruce reminded himself of why he was here. His eyes landed on Don Mitchell's son, the one that found his father dead. He noticed that Y/n was now talking to the widow, Mrs. Mitchell.
Bloody screams came from outside, a lot of commotion from the second story of the church. Bruce looked up and saw someone standing still, not being effected by all the movement and screams. Bruce knew something bad was about to happen, he looked back at Y/n and Mitchell's kid. Y/n was facing Bruce, standing in front of the kid.
Y/n rushed the kid and the mother away from the front of the church. She didn't know what was going on, but she wanted to help. She also didn't know where to go, so she just stood there, looking at Bruce confused and worried.
A car bursts through the church. Bruce runs and grabs Y/n, saving her from being crashed into. They rolled on the ground, stopping a few feet from where she once stood. Stunned by what was happening, Y/n stayed still laying on the ground.
Bruce got up, holding a hand out for her. She grabbed it, helping herself up. "You need to go," Bruce said, still holding onto the girls hand. Before Y/n could say anything in return, people were screaming at the person driving the car to get out.
Bruce and Y/n turn their attention to the car door opening and a man struggling to get out. Something was bolted around his neck, a bomb strapped to him. "Y/n, you need to leave." Bruce said again, this time a lot more serious. Y/n nodded, letting go of Bruce's hand and quickly exited the building.
~~~~
Y/n was safely at her home now, out of the funeral clothes, and was now laying down in her warm bath, rethinking the events that happened hours before. Everything confused her, but she knew it somehow was related to Batman. She then thought about Bruce Wayne.
She missed him, of course, praying he would reach out to her. She knew that it was unfair of her to break off their marriage but then expect him to come running back to her, but she knew he changed. She could tell by the way he spoke, the way he opened up to her, the way he looked at her.
As she thought about this, she heard her phone ping. She didn't think anything of it, ignoring it until she was out of the bath. As she wrapped herself in her towel, she picked up her phone.
Messages: Bruce Wayne Hey
Her eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. She reread the message, making sure she wasn't seeing things. She bit her lips, holding the phone, smiling. She opened her phone, clicking on the message to reply. "Hey" she wrote back. She wasn't sure what else to say, she thought for a moment.
After Bruce sent Y/n the text, he was praying to not mess up the second chance Y/n was giving him. He sat in his batcave, hovering over his phone, waiting for a reply. When his phone lit up, he immediately saw it. "Hey" It read. He picks up his phone, unlocking it and he starts typing, "You looked really beautiful today." But then he erased it, thinking it wasn't appropriate.
Seeing the 3 dots appear from Bruce's profile got her excited, but when they disappeared, she was confused. She put her phone down, getting dressed into her pajamas. Once she came back to her phone, there was no new messages from Bruce. Sighing, she typed something.
"Thank you for saving me, I didn't get to say it earlier." Bruce cracked a smile at this text from Y/n. He was happy that even though he didn't respond, she still texted back. "It's no problem." He wrote back.
"Can we meet up sometime tomorrow, to catch up?" Y/n sent. Bruce immediately replied, "Yeah, 11 at my place?" Y/n smiled, replying with "Yeah, I'll see you then."
Smiling at his phone, Bruce gets up and exits the batcave, making his way to Alfred. Bruce informs him about Y/n coming over, making Alfred ecstatic. He then scolds Bruce about the importance of not messing this up, making Bruce roll his eyes in annoyance. "I know, I'm not going to mess this up."
~~~~
Y/n walks into the Wayne manor, smiling at the guards at the entrance that recognize her, nodding their heads at her as she passed. She turned a corner, seeing Bruce waiting for her at the entrance of the elevator. Smiling, Y/n walks to him. His smile grew at the sight of her, his eyes longing for her once again.
"Hey," She says as they both walk into the elevator.
"Hey," He said, his eyes never leaving her. As the elevator door closed and starting moving up, silence fell between them.
Unsure if the silence was awkward or not, Y/n said with a joking voice, "So, what was that about yesterday?"
"Hm?" Bruce says for a moment before responding with a sigh, "Oh, it's a really long story." He brings a hand up to rub his eyes, which looked very tired.
"So, you're still doing the Batman stuff?" Y/n asks, looking up at him.
Bruce nods, adding, "After our," he pauses for a moment, "uh, divorce, I didn't know what to do with myself." He looks at her, unsure if bringing up the divorce was still a touchy subject or not.
"Yeah," she says, nodding and scratching the back of her neck, "I wanted to talk to you about that- the divorce."
As Bruce nods once more as the elevator doors open. He was unsure how the conversation would go, what she wanted to talk about, but he prayed for a good result.
Bruce paused for a moment, almost holding his hand out for Y/n to grab so he could lead her to the table like they did when they first started dating, but he couldn't. He takes a step out of the elevator and leads Y/n to the table that Alfred set up. He pulls out a chair, allowing Y/n to sit in it, and when she does, he pushed it in for her.
She barely blushed at this action, reminding herself that she can't do that. She sent a smile at him, watching as he sat down in his own seat across from her.
"So, um," She starts, not knowing how to start the conversation. Her head was down, avoiding eye contact. "I just wanted to tell you why I did it, I know I just left and we never got to talk through it,"
"I understand why you left," Y/n looked up, listening to him. "I was a terrible husband, I hate that it took us splitting up for me to realize that." It was now Bruce's turn to avoid eye contact as he spoke, "I'm truly sorry, for everything I put you through. And I know, a sorry is not even close to enough to what you deserve." He was looking down, feeling her eyes on him.
She leans over the table, placing her hand on his, causing him to look at her. "I know you're sorry, and I am sorry too. I made you choose between something you love doing and me, that was unfair of me to do."
"No, but I should have chose you," he pauses for a moment, looking into her eyes, "I want to choose you." His hand that was beneath hers flips so that their hand was resting in his palm.
Y/n looks down at the movement of his hand, then back up at him, registering his words. "And we'll have to work on that."
"Are you saying-"
"Yeah, we'll work on it," She says nodding, "work on us."
The End
A/n: Thank you so much for reading! Request if you have any!
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yailtsv · 1 month ago
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Can you do Pazzi as moms where there daughter is a little bit older and she gets bad grades and Paige and azzi help her
Bad News - Pazzi’s daughter
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Sum: Saylor gets bad grades and her teacher calls Azzi
Warnings: based in 2044, a curse word lmao
Notes: was I daydreaming or something? Why is this all over the place? 😵‍💫 I didn’t go into to much detail about p & a helping her bc I didn’t really know what else to put so sorry about that.
Wc: 1.2k
Pair: pazzi x daughter!oc
Saylor’s Masterlist
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“Hi is this Azzi Fudd?” A girl says over the phone “Yes, and who is this?” Azzi responds back “I’m Mrs. Smith, one of your daughters teachers. Um im calling because Saylor is failing my class and two others. We have tried to help her but it doesn’t seem to be working. She failed her test for my class yesterday and it’s not looking good for the tests in the other two classes either.” Mrs. Smith says over the phone
“What? That’s not like Saylor, she normally does really good in school.” Azzi replies confused “Thats what me and her other teachers have been talking about. We didn’t know if maybe there was something going on at home to make her not be concentrating, or maybe her friend group?”
“No, No there’s nothing going on at home. As for her friend group I don’t really know. I’ll talk to her other mom and we will try to figure it out, thank you for calling” Azzi says to mrs. smith with both of them saying byes then hanging up
Azzi sighs pulling the phone from her ear and going to Paige’s contact- not knowing if she’s gonna answer or not because Paige was at a photo shoot
“Hey Az, what’s up?” Paige says over the phone after picking up on the 2nd ring “are you busy?” Azzi asks “nah, I just left the photo shoot figured I would stop at the store and get stuff for dinner and then maybe bring home some lunch? You good with chipotle or you want something else?” Paige asks
“Chipotle is fine, but um I just got a call from one of Saylors teachers” Azzi says to Paige, “What? Is Saylor ok? Do I need to go get her from school?”
“No. No, she’s fine but she’s failing some of her classes and her teachers are worried somethings going on at home or with her friends” Azzi says while packing her duffel and starting to walk to her car
“Well nothings going on at home and she should only be talking to her friends at school. She’s still grounded. So I don’t know what could possibly be happening in her friend group at school for her to be failing multiple classes. Hey I’m gonna FaceTime you I’m about to start driving”
Azzi doesn’t answer and just waits for the FaceTime call, accepting it when it appears on her phone “maybe it’s the grounding?” Azzi says confused while watching Paige start driving and turn onto the main road
“If it is the grounding she needs to get over it immediately. She knew she wasn’t gonna get away with sneaking out, we would have found out eventually. We need to just sit her down and make her talk to us-“ Paige starts but Azzi cuts in “but that’s easier said than done”
“Exactly!” Paige starts “FUCK! What is happening with her? Is it us? Did we do something to make her start acting out? Do we need to get her like a therapist or something?” Paige stresses
Azzi has already started making her way home while Paige was going to the store. “I don’t think we’ve done anything. She started acting out like 2 years ago-“
“When we had her transfer schools.” Paige cuts in “Do you think that’s it? She’s mad at us for her transferring so she’s punishing us by acting out?” Azzi says pulling into the garage and sitting in the car
“I can’t think of anything else, can you?” Paige asks still driving to get to the store
“No, not really.” Azzi sighs “I just want our daughter back to her normal self. It’s like she’s possessed by something.” Azzi now stresses
“I get it mama, I do. I want her back too but I don’t know, maybe we do family therapy?” Paige asks pulling into a parking spot at the store and grabbing her phone from the phone holder on the dashboard
“Couldn’t hurt” Azzi says pinching the bridge of her nose “I’ll let you go I can see you just pulled into the store. Im probably gonna go take a shower and then start cleaning, let me know what you decide for dinner yeah?”
“You go it. I love you” Paige responds
“I love you too”
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After a few hours of Paige and Azzi hanging out and watching movies, Saylor finally gets home and walks through the door
“Hey baby come in the living room for a few please” azzi says out to Saylor who was a few rooms away literally just walking through the door
“Give me a sec mom” Saylor shouts taking off her shoes by the front door and setting her backpack by them. Saylor grabs the emergency phone and then walks to the living room, tossing it onto the cushion next to Azzi
“What do I have to be in here for?” Saylor asks “here take a seat” azzi says pointing to the love seat across from Paige and Azzi, making Saylor look at her confused but doing it anyway
“Your teacher called, saying that your failing a few different classes” azzi started “We have to ask, are you actually struggling or are you just faking it as a way to get back at us for grounding you? Cause we can help you if you’re actually struggling or we can pay someone to tutor you but we’re not gonna do that if you’re just trying to get back at us.” Paige finishes for Azzi
Saylor just stays quiet with her head down looking at her hands making Paige and Azzi look at each other before Paige starts speaking again. “Saylor. Do you need help with school?” Paige says with a soft voice Saylor just keeps looking at her hands “bug?” Paige says still with a soft voice
Saylor takes a second before nodding her head slowly “you do need help?” Azzi asks making Saylor shake her head again
Paige and Azzi both get up and sit on either side of Saylor both hugging her “that’s all you had to say Saylor, you didn’t have to go through all that homework and tests knowing you were gonna fail. We would’ve helped you” Azzi says with her lips pressed against Saylors temple
Saylor just leans into both of them “hey, what are you struggling with?” Paige says softly
“Math, science, and history” Saylor mumbles out “well we can help you with those. Unless you want a tutor? Your choice” Paige says kissing Saylors temple while Azzi’s rubbing her back
Saylor just cuddles closer to Paige’s chest making her laugh “was that your answer?” She says amusingly making Saylor have a small smile on her face while nodding
“Alright” Azzi says giving Saylor another kiss on her forehead before standing up “you wanna help me with dinner and then after we can take a look at your homework? Maybe we can make some cookies too.”
Saylor looks up with her head still placed on Paige’s chest, and nods making Paige stand up and then pull Saylor up to her feet. “Cmon let’s go make dinner, I’m hungry” Paige says pulling Saylor and Azzi to the kitchen making both of them laugh but follow her anyways.
That’s how the Bueckers family spent the rest of their evening. Cooking dinner, baking cookies, and doing homework.
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@melpthatsme
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richardsgraysons · 9 months ago
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Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids
anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.
tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing
In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.
He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.
What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.
He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.
Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.
Three years later, he put a ring on it.
"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."
Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"
"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"
Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"
You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"
He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."
* * *
Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.
You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.
And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.
You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.
"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.
Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.
Your stupid, lovable, husband.
And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.
You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.
He knew what you were doing. Dammit.
"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"
"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."
He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"
"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."
He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.
"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.
"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.
"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."
"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."
You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.
"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."
"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."
He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."
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wolfiesmoon · 10 months ago
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Genshin guys as dads 🤭
in honour of finally getting off my ass and finishing mondstat, i bring you genshin men as dads <3 i decided to challenge myself and write for characters i haven't written for at all yet
the reader is gender neutral (u can interpret that the kid was adopted or u can interpret that the kid is biologically yours)
Yk the more i read these guys' lines to get a better idea of their characters the more i think they need a therapy session stat
Characters featured: Diluc, Alhaitham, Childe, Ayato
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౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Diluc Ragnvindr
"Diluc! Diluc, are you in here?" you knocked before opening the door to his office, assuming he's probably there. You were finally returning to the winery late in the evening and wanted to see how your daughter and husband were doing.
Tonight, they should both be at the winery.
But to your surprise, the office was completely empty. You haven't heard a single peep from your daughter yet, either. Usually she'd be running around and yelling, even if she wasn't with Diluc.
You went upstairs to check your bedroom and were met with a most adorable sight when you opened the door. Your daughter was very peacefully asleep, drool and all, on Diluc's chest. Diluc did not seem very pleased with this arrangement, however.
"Welcome home." he sighed upon seeing you walk to the side of the bed.
"Looks like someone's on pillow duty." you teased him, petting your daughter's head.
"Don't make fun of me. She's been running around all day with seemingly no end to it. Sometimes I'm surprised at what her tiny legs are capable of." he leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling.
"She said she's not tired at all. But she fell asleep almost instantly when she sat on top of me to, umm... bother me." to anyone else, Diluc would seem like he hates this kid with how much he says she bothers or annoys him, but you know that isn't the case.
Whenever she runs up to him to show him something she did, he pats her little head lovingly. He keeps the drawing she made of him in his office, even if he is a bit concerned at how grumpy he looks in her artistic interpretation.
"I wasn't making fun of you... Okay, maybe a little bit." you leaned down, cupping Diluc's face and kissing his cheek. He hummed in dissaproval, but his cheeks turned pink anyways.
"Would you mind joining me? If I can't... I want to know that you're safe, atleast." his eyebrows were creased in worry. You don't know what for, exactly, but you gladly joined him on the bed, hugging him too.
"Is your aim to suffocate me further?" the combined weight of about a quarter of your body and his daughter was not the most freeing in the world.
"No, I just happen to understand the appeal of sleeping on top of you." and you really do. It's always so warm and homey.
"You've worked hard today, dad." you moved some stray hairs out of his face. His tired eyes met yours for a moment before they slipped shut. Hehehe, you need to take a photo of this.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Alhaitham
(let's pretend you live together with him now instead of kaveh haha)
"Dad doesn't love me!" the sudden accusation had you turning your head fast, wanting to know what was going on. "What did he do, sweetie?" the little pout on her pudgy face was adorable.
She ran up to you and hugged your leg. "You still love me, right?" she seemed very worried about your reply. It seems like she isn't in the mood to give a proper answer to your question, though.
"Of course I do. You're very very very special to me." You pat her head gently. She seemed satisfied with your reply, giggling happily at you before running off to play.
.
When Alhaitham returned home that day, he attempted to interact with his daughter, as he tries to every day, but he was utterly ignored.
He looked to you, hoping you'd know the reason, but you just shrugged. "She says you don't love her anymore."
"Hm..." was his only reply.
"That's because he doesn't! I told him 'I love you' yesterday but he didn't say it back!" Your daughter crossed her little arms, scowling at her dad before turning around so she didn't have to look at him.
"So it was that." Alhaitham seemed like he understood the situation properly now. And you realised what happened too, because it happens to you occasionally.
"Sweetie, listen. Your dad likes to wear these thingies in his ears. And when he wears them, he can't hear a thing." You explained in the most child friendly way you could.
"Not even an explosion?" Your daughter finally turned back to look at you and Alhaitham, though her eyes were fixated firmly on you.
"Nope. Nothing at all. When he didn't say 'I love you too' yesterday, it was because he was wearing them and couldn't hear." Your daughter turned her head back with an annoyed 'hmph', but you knew she was listening to you.
"So I propose a hug attack. Whenever you see him wearing them." You smiled evilly, glancing at Alhaitham who shot you a dissaproving glare in return.
"Leave me alone." Your daughter huffed, stomping off down the hallway. Oh well, kids don't always think critically, do they? You have a feeling she's already forgiven him a little, though.
"Children make no sense to me." He admits, and you finally greet him properly with a little welcome home peck.
"That's the fun in it, though." You smiled at him and to your surprise, he smiled right back. As awkward as he can get with the kid, he loves her a whole lot.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Childe
"Mhhhh... what is it?" he mumbled in annoyance when he felt his hand getting shook. His voice sounded quite raspy now.
"Dad... Dad..." turns out it was your son who was pulling on Childe's arm. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second, now.
As soon as he saw the distress on his son's dimly lit face, his attitude changed and he was overcome with the sudden urge to take revenge on something or someone. Maybe it's the dad instinct.
"I had a nightmare.... I'm scared..." your son sobbed.
By this point, even you woke up, but your body was still mostly asleep, so you were just listening in.
"Come up here." Childe tapped the bed and your son awkwardly climbed up into his arms.
"Was it a scary monster?" Childe asked in an exaggerated scary voice. Your son nodded, gripping onto the front of Childe's shirt.
"In that case... you don't have to worry at all. I always love a challenge." you could practically see the smile on Childe's face. You turn over, opening your eyes slightly. You have to admit, the sight in front of you is adorable.
"What do you mean, dad?" your son sniffled, rubbing the snot away with his tiny hand.
"I'll fight the monster, of course. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see the b-" he winced a little bit when he felt the light slap on his face.
"Ajax, you'll scare him even more." you warned, your own voice raspy. You moved your other hand to ruffle your son's hair to comfort him.
"Ow, clearly, someone doesn't appreciate me enough." Childe rolled his eyes playfully.
Without warning, you lean forward and peck him on the lips. "There. Now I've evened out the slap."
"Just one peck? Well, I suppose we can't do much more right now... Hehe." Childe turned his attention back on your son, stroking his back gently to calm him down.
"Why do you have that look on your face?" you noticed he was smiling strangely.
"What look?" your accusations have been denied. But he sure does have a plan for you later.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Kamisato Ayato
"DAD! Look at where I am!" Your son shouted from somewhere in the tree that was stood in the beautifully maintained garden.
Being the little rebel he is, he climbed the tree despite you telling him multiple times not to.
"Please get down from there. It's unsafe." Ayato tried to reason with him calmly upon noticing him in the treetops.
"Nah, it's so cool up here! I can see the whole estate!" Sometimes, your son's stubborn nature made it hard for him to get along with Ayato. This is one of those cases.
"This is not a joking matter. You could get seriously hurt." Ayato doesn't think he could properly live with himself for a bit if his kid got hurt when he could have prevented it.
"What's going on here?" You joined in, happening to pass by the garden.
"He won't come down. I'm... worried about him." He admits, crossing his arms. Though you do sense a bit of annoyance behind his voice, too.
"Come down. I told you not to climb that tree so many times." You crossed your arms firmly. Your son looked at Ayato's face, then yours and sighed, beginning to descend from the tree. He'd rather avoid a scolding. But his little foot slipped and he suddenly tumbled to the ground.
"Son!" Both of you immediately ran to his side as he started wailing. "Call for healers. Immediately." He seemed fine, looking at him initially, but he might have a broken leg or something.
Both of you stayed by his side the whole time, offering him words of comfort (and a bit of a scolding). It seems like something like this happens almost every week, now. The Kamisato household has certainly gotten livelier ever since getting blessed with your son.
.
"Well, that was certainly an afternoon." You huffed, sitting down behind the table across Ayato.
"I wish he wasn't so reckless and disobedient, sometimes." Ayato held his cheek in worry. He let his son get hurt, again.
"He got that mischief from you." You smiled innocently, sipping your tea.
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" He smiled innocently back.
"I miss days of solitude. We only have moments now. I suppose my life hasn't been a calm one for a long while now, though." He sips his own tea, looking outside at the sunset. Working as hard as he does every day is taxing on the soul.
"Guess we gotta make the most of it." You stood up, sitting back down next to him and playfully pecking his cheek.
"Oh, I see what you mean." He returned the mischevious smile you know and love. Just as he grabbed your waist, though...
"LOOK WHAT I HAVE!" Your son burst into the room, holding a sword. His sword.
"Aren't you supposed to be resting?!"
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knottedhearts · 3 months ago
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Roblox: B.E
Summary: You're Billie's girlfriend making her record a YouTube video for her to play the Mimic.
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With the camera set up on your desk and recording, you watched as Billie settled into your computer chair, rolling her eyes at you playfully. "Alright, babe," she said with a smirk, "but if this game’s as scary as you say it is, you’re totally paying for my therapy bill."
You grinned, leaning over her shoulder. “I’ll take full responsibility, don’t worry. Plus, your fans will love this side of you—Billie the Brave, showing up to face Roblox monsters.”
She laughed, running a hand through her hair. “Sure, Billie the Brave, let’s go with that,” she said, shaking her head. “But if I scream, you’re officially the worst girlfriend ever.”
“Gladly accepting that title,” you teased, leaning against the desk as she started navigating her character through the dark, eerie corridors of The Mimic.
A few minutes in, the suspenseful silence was getting to her. She glanced over at you, her face showing a mix of skepticism and nerves. “So, is there like… a monster hiding somewhere? Because if you don’t warn me, I swear, babe, we’re done.”
You laughed, holding up your hands innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you unprepared. Just keep going.”
She rolled her eyes but continued. Then, right on cue, a terrifying monster screeched and rushed at her character from the shadows. Billie let out a scream, throwing herself back in the chair as her hands flew to her chest.
“Holy crap!” she gasped, breathless. “Why didn’t you actually warn me, you jerk?”
Unable to stop laughing, you caught it all on camera. “Oh my god, this is gold. Your fans are gonna lose it when they see this side of you, baby.”
“Oh, stop it!” she said, her cheeks pink as she tried to swat at you. “And turn that camera off! There’s no way I’m letting them see me scream at Roblox.”
“Oh, babe, this is staying,” you teased, leaning in closer with a mischievous grin. “I can already picture the edits—like a ‘Billie Scream Compilation’ or something.”
She covered her face with one hand, laughing despite herself. “You’re seriously the worst girlfriend ever, you know that?”
“The very worst,” you agreed, smiling as you nudged her. “Want to keep going? Or should we turn off the ‘horror movie’?”
She narrowed her eyes at you playfully. “You’re asking for it, sweetheart. And you’re definitely playing next.”
You shrugged, keeping your smirk. “Bring it on. But, remember—I don’t scream.”
“Uh-huh, we’ll see about that, tough guy,” she teased, laughing as she turned back to the game.
With each new scare, she jumped and let out a squeal or two, and every time, you couldn’t hold back from laughing. “Oh, c’mon, babe. I thought you were brave?”
“Oh, hush,” she muttered, but she was laughing, too. “Keep teasing me and I’m kicking you out of your own chair.”
You laughed, leaning in close and giving her a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. “If it means I get to keep recording this, it’s worth it, baby.”
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cutebat · 6 months ago
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Go Home with your Friends Route
Warning(s): No yandere themes, past neglect, a lot of swearing, skipping school, attempted smoking, mentions of pills, bribery, threats
(This is where now you can pick your own choices in this series, so this isn't technically a chapter)
~~~~~
You decided to go home cause honestly, fuck school.
~~~~~
You and your friends all went inside the Wayne Manor after that whole conversation.
"You can put your stuff right there."
You tell them as you point at the corner.
As they did that, the three of you went into the living room and sat on the couch.
It was silent for a moment before you spoke up.
"So, do you guys wanna do anything or what?"
You ask that makes the two of them stare at you.
"You're the one who made us skip with you. How the hell should we know? We've never been to your house before."
Sasha responds as she leans back against the couch.
"Did you really decide to go home so you can avoid Damian?"
Noelle asks as she crossed her arms and puts her leg over her other one.
"Not really. He lives here."
You respond in a nonchalant tone.
"What?"
"Yeah, unfortunately."
"Then, why did you want to go home if you know he lives here?"
"I don't know, I just don't want to be at school right now after everything that happened and he never skips, so we're fine."
It was silent again before Sasha spoke up.
"Can we smoke here?"
She asks as she lightly pushes herself off the couch.
"You can, but I don't know if you should. Bruce banned cigarettes here."
You tell her.
"Okay, well, you hate your dad, your brothers, your sister, and basically anyone who you told us that you hate. So, let us smoke here."
"Holy shit, calm down. Fine, you can. Also, how are you so addicted to this?"
"Blame my mom. I usually steal stuff from her and she has a fuck ton of cigarettes lying around the house. I usually take them when I feel fucked over."
There was a brief silence before you spoke up again.
"... How old are you again?"
"Fifteen?"
"Are you really going to smoke at that age?"
"Bitch, you don't know when you're going to die or not. I don't really care about what my fate is, so why not just use that time to just, you know?"
"I guess that's true."
"Cool. Anyway, Noelle, what kind did you bring today?"
Sasha asks as she turns to her other friend who is just sitting on the couch, not saying a word for the entire time until now.
"I have Marlboro Ultra Lights in my backpack."
She said that made Sasha cringe.
"Seriously? You have the weak ones? What happened to all the good shit you had?"
"My mom started therapy as her New Year resolution ever since she caught my dad having an affair with his intern three years ago. And now, she basically quit smoking and smokes with very weak cigs every two weeks."
Noelle said as she walked over to the corner before returning with her bag.
"So, do you still want to do it, or not?"
Sasha seems to be in thought before she lets out a heavy sigh.
"I don't know... These things don't throw me over that much. I need something that can actually fuck me up."
She said as you spoke up.
"I actually found some pills that my brother's girlfriend had. I think she left them, but they look pretty cool to high over on."
You said as you took out a pill bottle.
"What's that?"
Sasha asks as she stares down at the bottle in your hand.
"I dunno. I just found them on the ground when she left."
You said in response with a shrug.
"Damn... two choices. Smoking or getting high over some pills that we know nothing off."
Noelle mutters out as she stares down at the pills.
~~~~~
Use Bab's pills
Smoke in the house (Coming soon)
Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15 @lilyalone @seraph101 @lain3iwakura @tacodeemon @whiterabbitxxx @yuyuzi-ling @lilithquillete @amisupposedtomakesenserightnow @una1002289 @spacetravelr @luckyangelballoon @illytian @ghostdoodlen @imaginarydreams @flyingpansaurus @wrenbirde @kimzzz18 @ohnoivefallen @ferakillia @f1lover4ever @asahi20789 @livingforloves @moonieper @rosecentury @waitingforanarchicaddiction @missmannequin @mischiefmanaged124 @hanselate @doli09 @chocolatemoose26 @enjisthings @stitchtheseconde @purple-lemon-8 @milliu @blublock404 @kimzzz18 @jsprien213 @bluemidnightmelodies @enter-sandmann @tdickensstuff4 @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @starsdotalk @sumikosasaki @erikasurfer @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @0lshadyl0 @ghostlotusnymph @yuyuzi-ling @lilithskywalker @trashlanternfish360 @i-never-saw-snow @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @76lonelyspoons
(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)
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srslylini · 1 month ago
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I have some thoughts about the idea of forgiveness and moving on we see in media and fans. The thoughts mostly come from being in therapy and spending time with people who specialize in those fields and helped me come to terms with my own pain.
This can very well be taken in general but is mostly about Vi.
Right. So.
Vi is a genuinely interesting character, who has gone through hell and back to put it lightly. She lives in conditions in the undercity that has people who don't live in them wear masks to handle them. She grew up and saw her parents die, which means she had to step up. Vander did adopt her, her sister, Mylo and Claggor but Vander still put a lot of responsibilities on Vi. She was told she cannot be selfish when people look up to her.
Then, of course, the entire act 1 of season 1 happens, which in itself is already very much and not something that should have ever happened to anyone, let alone a kid/teenager. She then, on TOP of all of this, got thrown into Stillwater after seeing her entire family die (and presumed Powder also as dead, although she continued to hope), where she was canonically beaten, starved, put into isolation and... the rest is up to interpretation because I guess the writers did not care. But that interpretation is not a good one.
What I am trying to say with all of this is that Vi has been put through so much by the system and by people (Enforcers get a special mention here) all around her.
This gets me to the point. I see a lot of people, the writers themself even, talk about how Vi needs to (or already did) forgive and move on. And I just wonder where this idea comes from?
In all my time in therapy, no matter what and who I talked about, you know what I have never heard? That I need to forgive.
What I heard instead was rather close to this:
"What happened was not your fault. It happened and can't be changed. But there is still something you can do, because you stand here now. You can imagine yourself back then and guide yourself. Hold yourself and tell the younger version of you that what happened isn't ever going to be fine but that you are still here and that you need to be kind to yourself." She told me "take the hand of your younger version and walk her through it because in the end it will have always happened but you can choose to help yourself"
There is a lot more she told me, but that is between her and me. What I am trying to say with this is that not once did I ever get told that I need to forgive the people involved. I am also not trying to say that doing this works for everyone, because health does not work this way. The point I am making is that I find it incredibly weird that we came to the point of saying that the only way to let go is to forgive, when that could not be further from the truth.
I would say understanding it happened and being kind to yourself does a lot more than trying to forgive people who hurt you so much that it ends in you being broken to what seems beyond repair (it isn't I have learned that much, lol). That's what my therapist taught me.
Which brings me back to Vi and why I find the notion of "she needs to forgive and move on to get better" or the writers writing "she forgave and moved on" so weird.
What happened to her is not something that can be forgiven. And... that is okay. Or it should be okay. But for some reason it isn't?
I mean if you can and want to forgive that is for you to do but to say that it is a (or even THE) way to move on does not sit right with me. At all.
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endless-ineffabilities · 9 months ago
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Maroon (part five)
modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again?
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themes/warnings : angst, Aemond is a bit of an ass who needs therapy, jealousy, miscommunication
word count : 4k
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The Dragonstone ball continues to unfold... Will Aemond ever be able to redeem himself after tonight? Will the reader let him back in?
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“... to these three, Strong boys.”
Aemond’s declaration brings the room into a state of silence, everyone in collective surprise. 
It is a known truth. One shared among people in hushed tones and averted eyes. But not like this. Never openly, in this way.
Aemond lingers on you, before something - or someone - cuts through in the corner of his vision. Gasps erupt across the hall. 
It’s Luke, who reaches Aemond in a flash and disarms him with a rough shove. Aemond barely budges, but is forced to take a step back, his chair skidding loudly across the floor. He laughs menacingly, and simply watches as his nephew makes another move. It doesn’t take long before the security team springs into action. Mr. Westerling puts a hand to Luke’s chest, halting his determined motion. 
“Not here, son.” His voice is gruff and commanding. The members of the high table look on, aghast. But Aemond stands still with a smirk on his lips. He raises his glass and takes a confident sip, all whilst staring Luke in the eye.
“You’ve crossed the fucking line,” Luke seethes.
“Have I?” Aemond croons. “I only speak the truth. I was merely expressing how proud I am of my nephews.”
“Aemond, that is enough,” Alicent pleads, wary of the prying attention from the onlookers. 
“It’s the truth, isn’t it, mother?”
“Not in front of all of these people.” Alicent doesn’t confirm her son’s statement, but she doesn’t deny it either, and Rhaenyra is quick to note this.
“Enough!” Viserys bellows, and all heads turn to the sound. “The feast… shall commence. Everyone, we apologise for this commotion. You see, this is why family reunions are not to be taken lightly.”
A nervous bout of shared laughter echoes. A line of servers rush out of the corner of the hall, platters of all sorts in their arms. Aemond’s outburst will be ignored. For now. 
His jaw is taut, arms tense on his sides like a viper still preparing to strike. You look down and notice that you’ve latched on to Jace’s arm in a death grip, your nerves getting the best of you. 
It doesn’t help that it’s the first thing Aemond sees when he turns his attention back to you. It’s enough to divert his thoughts from Luke’s provocation. As you move to sit back down along with the rest of the table, he swiftly strides over to you determinedly, weaving his way past the servers. 
“May I speak with you for a moment?” Aemond leans down, whispering. You hear a sense of urgency in his tone, or perhaps his mood is still heightened, his composure strained from the previous argument. 
Jace turns his head, and addresses Aemond with a passing glare, but doesn’t say anything. He leaves the choice up to you.
“Can’t this wait?” You whisper back, pausing to smile in thanks at the server who sets down a dish in front of you. “I don’t think I have anything to say to you right now, Aemond.”
“Please, darling,” he implores, still polite. But he knows that one way or another, he's going to have his moment with you.
You take a deep breath, sharing a look with Jace, and he merely nods in acknowledgment. To hell with it. 
“I’ll be back in 5 minutes,” you tell Jace. The entire hall is occupied with the feast, and they barely notice when Aemond leads you down an adjacent hallway, then through the side doors. You wonder what his date thinks of this, or if she has even noticed that he left. By the determined way he moves, you doubt whether he even cares.
His hand is at the small of your back, guiding you. Electricity shoots up your spine. Briefly, you consider if you should go back to the hall where it's safe, and it causes your steps to falter.
He appraises you for a moment, waiting.
“Where are we going, Aemond?” you finally ask.
“There’s a balcony just round there - ”
“This is far enough,” you gesture at the empty hallway. “I said I would only take 5 minutes.”
“That’s not long enough,” he protests right away, oddly sounding like a petulant little boy.
“Well, tough.”
He inhales sharply, biting his tongue as he wants to placate you. He wants to make you understand. 
He starts to speak, but you cut him off at the same time.
"Darling, I - "
“I don’t know why,” you shake your head at him, at the whole situation, “you do this. Maybe it is because of the accident, sure. I get that. It’s fucked up, what happened. But you shouldn’t have shut me off. I waited for you.” You step forward, and press your hand to his chest. You feel his faint heartbeat resounding beneath. “I didn’t even know what I was waiting for, or for what. But I did.”
He places his hand atop yours, holding it to himself. He did not anticipate that you would be so forward, and it catches him off guard. Whatever ill-prepared speech he had gets caught in his throat. “I didn’t know what to do,” he musters. “I didn’t think you would… still want me.”
Ridiculous. How could I not? “That’s just… an excuse.” Your thought makes itself known. The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, briefly, before his brows furrow as if something in his line of thinking cast a shadow over what should be a nice sentiment. 
“Is it?” he queries, almost mocking. “Look at me. Look at what I almost did back there. You’ve known me for a while, darling, but perhaps you’ve not known me long enough to know how rotten I truly am.”
There’s a menacing glint in his eye, one you’re sure you haven’t truly seen before. Not until tonight’s incident at the hall, and now that it’s being directed at you, you struggle to come to terms with how it makes you feel. 
Is this who he really is? Was the Aemond you’ve known a persona he so conveniently wore in the time he met you?
But you cannot ignore that part of you, maybe even greater and strong enough to trump your worries, which knows that you have seen who he is. You’ve always known. Through hints and whispers. And you wanted him anyway.
Aemond’s only ever this gentle around you, everyone said. 
Why would he be? What could he ever have gotten out of it? What else, but you?
You say nothing, merely watching the storm in his blazing blue eye. His sneering expression softens, suddenly conscious at how you seem to study him. At how your eyes greedily rake over his face, taking him in like you haven’t been able to in a long while. 
After those long and tortuous weeks apart, this is the first time you get to look at him without any distractions. Without the commotion of the ball. Without him trying to hide. 
“Then show me,” you finally say.
He makes a surprised noise. His usual hum, but lilting. 
Maybe you can blame it on that damned firewine, or you’ve gone insane, because you didn’t expect you would be so gutsy at this moment. But before you can question where your newfound bravery came from, and before your nerves from earlier can resurface, you raise your hand and let it hover over his leather eyepatch. 
He hums again, this time low in his throat. A warning. 
Your fingers make contact, ghosting over the smooth surface. You wince internally as you also touch a patch of his scar right under. You don’t even want to imagine how much pain he was in. You can’t, or you’ll lose all your nerve, and likely start crying. 
Keep it together, now.
Aemond remains unmoving, a feat considering his pounding heartbeat. He lets you continue, and ignores the instinctive twitch in his palms that compel him to push your hand away. 
When your thumb runs over the bottom ridge of his eyepatch, you catch his eye. “Aemond,” you whisper, asking for permission.
You barely lift his eyepatch when his hand wraps around your wrist in a vice grip, halting any movement. You look at him questioningly, searching, but his expression stays the same. Lips pursed in a tight line, jawline taut. His gaze holding you in place. 
You don’t say anything for a moment, but neither of you show any desire to move away.
You watch as he finally lowers his head, the hand around your wrist gently drifting to cradle your palm against his ruined cheek. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, all false bravado gone. 
“It’s okay,” you say, letting your thumb run gently over his scar. “You don’t have to show me.”
“I want to, I just - ” He looks at you, words left unsaid, but you understand all the same.
“I know,” you smile sadly. “I can wait.”
It’s not long before his arm abruptly drops to his side, causing your hand to fall from his face. 
“You shouldn't have to,” he looks away then, his distant expression returning. “It’s not fair to you. All this waiting.”
You shake your head at the change in his approach. The Aemond you think you know has always been a steady presence, observant and committed to the task at hand. Has he always been this mercurial? 
“Don’t you want me to?” you remark, disbelief lacing your voice. You step even closer, glaring up at him. “Is this why you brought me here? To finally put an end to all of this?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and the bastard just stares at you. His good eye rakes across the planes of your face, falling to your exposed shoulders and the outline of your dress, then back again. If you didn’t know any better, it almost looks like longing, like he actually wants you. 
And it infuriates you even more. 
You decide that - no - he doesn’t get to look at you like that and yet act in the way he does. “Our 5 minutes are up.”
You turn around, your skirts swivelling with the movement. Each step feels decisive, like you’re walking away from something - someone - important. But you do anyway. 
“Wait,” you hear him murmur under his breath, but you don’t let it sway you.
Then you hear his footsteps, heavy and sure. 
“I said wait,” Aemond repeats, commanding. You startle when he gets a hold of your arm, squeezing by the crook of your elbow, bringing you to a stop.
“For wh - ”
The words are stolen from your mouth in a rushed breath, when his lips claim yours. This is not the gentle Aemond you might have known, as he kisses you with an intensity that is bruising and relentless. 
You’re quite sure you had something witty retort prepared, something to put him in his place. Whatever that was, it’s all forgotten as his tongue glides along your bottom lip. As the kiss deepens and you feel the sharpness of teeth. 
“Hmm,” he purrs when he pulls away, and you feel it reverberate low in his chest where your palms are pressed. He connects his forehead to yours, and you’re grateful for it. The feeling of something solid calms the dizzying sensation in your head. 
You barely register the silence that filled the room, as your ears are ringing with the sound of your racing heartbeat and the small breaths that escape his lips. You think to say something and almost do, but then he crashes his lips against yours again. 
Demanding more. 
You feel yourself moving, Aemond guiding your movement, akin to the dance you shared in the great hall. Instinctively, you flinch when your shoulder blades collide with a marble pillar, causing you to bite down on his lip. 
A surprised hiss escapes his lips, followed by a low growl. 
Then, almost predictably, he dons his signature shit-eating smirk. He liked it. 
He hums as he lowers and plants a kiss on your neck, sucking a spot tender. "I think you missed me too, darling." Aemond has become a concoction of smugness and self-loathing, which makes for volatile tendencies as you witnessed in the Great Hall.
This won't make for a steady, healthy, calm affair. You just know it won't. But as he leaves a sure mark on your neck that causes the heat to pool down in your core, none of it matters.
You accept that Aemond is the poison you chose.
Gods, I'm starting to become melodramatic.
"Hmm?" he queries, and you realise that some of your private thoughts might have escaped the confines of your mind.
"Nothing."
He smirks, mostly to himself, gaze levelling with yours. He brings you closer, both hands gripping your waist, until your bodiced chest is pressed to the smooth leather of his tunic. From his height, he can't help but look down and enjoy the view.
A confession springs from his lips, without any hint of shame. "As much as you look good in that dress, darling," his gaze openly rakes over you, like a predator sizing up his prey, "it would look much more suited on the fucking floor."
Oh, damn him to the seven hells.
You’re so caught up in a haze, legs instinctively pressing together as a result of his lustful advances, that the oncoming clatter of heels against porcelain tile is almost imperceptible, but it snaps you out of it anyway.
“Aemond,” you grip his forearms and pry them away from you, having to use a bit more force now.
“Aemond!” Someone’s else voice echoes, closing in. It’s Alys, striding down the hall with sheer confidence. No doubt on her way to reclaim her date.
Her date. Not mine. What the hell am I doing?
You give him a withering look, and he straightens, folding his arms behind him.
“Alys,” he greets her coolly when she reaches the two of you.
“You can’t just run off like that,” she scolds, glancing at you just once before seemingly deciding you’re not worth the time. “They’re taking photos of everyone. You’re my partner. You need to present yourself with me.”
“There’s no rush,” Aemond says. And there truly isn’t. He knows that those bloody photographers would wait endlessly for him, of all people. No matter how long, just so they can get exclusive snaps of what people are deeming the return of the Prince of the City. “Give us a few minutes.”
"You've had more than a few minutes," Alys counters, unrelenting. Anyone else would've spun on their heel already, shirking under Aemond's pointed gaze. But not her. She's learned from having to deal with his moods.
And besides, he took her as his date. He owes her the satisfaction of having this as a part of her image. The city's most wanted bachelor with no one but her on his arm. Call her opportunistic, Alys doesn't care. This is the game, and she will play.
"Sweetheart," she says to you, the name not matching the condescension in her tone, "I believe Jace is looking for you too."
"Right, of course." You take a deep breath before finally walking away, hoping that the flush that's likely on your face doesn't give anything away.
Just before you pass by Alys, she says your name. Bringing a perfectly manicured finger to the corner of her lips, she dabs at it in some sort of gesture. "You've got a bit of lipstick there, sweetheart. Might want to tidy that up."
"Alys," Aemond warns, unamused by how Alys is sizing you up, like you're beneath her.
She knows. Of course she does.
Alys has a sneer that can make anyone feel like nothing but dirt on the sole of her high heels, but you stand your ground, despite the chill running up your spine. Her approach to you now is a drastic change from the friendly and poised confidence she sported when you first met her at the Targaryen penthouse.
Sparing Aemond a cursory glance, you address her with a self-assured smile of your own. "He's all yours. I'll leave you to it."
You feel both of them watch as you walk away. It might be all the glam and the buzz of the ball which leads to your next thought. Vain, but you let yourself have it anyway. Feeling like a runaway princess as your gown billows around your legs.
Aemond isn't yours. It was my mouth against his just a minute ago, his tongue dancing with mine.
When you return to the table, Jace immediately asks how it went, to which you just tiredly shrugged and said, "Uneventful."
He narrows his eyes at you. "You'll tell me later."
In the middle of your meal, Aegon approaches, clearly more sloshed drunk than he was before. Jace just watches him, with the calm recognition that this is not the uncle to watch out for.
"Hello, kids," Aegon leans against the table. He angles his head close to you, like he is about to divulge some secret. "Not that I was checking you out or anything, just saw it from where I was sitting over there and - "
"What do you want, Aegon?" Jace shakes his head, bored with his uncle's antics.
"Alright, alright!" Aegon playfully holds his hands up, wine glass and all. "No hostility from me, nephew. Just letting her know that maybe she should cover up my brother's work."
"What are you on about? Maybe drink some bloody water instead, mmm?" Jace counters.
His brother's work? Oh gods.
Your hand shoots up to your exposed neck, and the tender spot makes itself known as soon your fingers drift above it.
Jace's confused expression disappears when he realizes where your hand immediately went to. "Oh, really?"
You sigh guiltily. Scanning the table quickly, you don't find Aemond there to glare at. He must be posing for the cameras somewhere with his date. You find a friendlier face in Helaena, who catches on to your nervous expression.
She floats over to the small commotion of your little group, practically having to shove Aegon out of the way.
"You alright?" she asks sincerely, and you can't bring yourself to say, everything's fine, but I was wondering if you could lend me some concealer because your dear brother left something on my neck.
Thankfully, you don't have to. Or not thankfully, because Aegon does it for you in a way only he can.
Tapping on his own neck and gesturing to you, he explains, "Aemond's a monster, sis," through a graceless swig of firewine and then, "horny jail for him."
"Actually," he raises his arms like he's making some proclamation, "horny jail for both of you kids. Where is he anyway?"
"Leave it, Aegon." Helaena rolls her eyes, then offers her hand to you. "How about we run to the ladies room and take care of that?"
Thank the gods for Helaena.
"You owe me," she says, as the two of you head to the side of the hall, "and Aegon might be right."
"About what?"
She slaps your arm playfully, and you feign shock but a giggle slips out due to her expression.
"You and Aemond, I swear," she laughs dryly. "He's been even more sullen and emo since the accident - actually, the both of you have been - and now you're back to making out right in the middle of the ball!"
"We weren't - " you start to say, but you're met with Helaena's don't-you-dare kind of glare.
"It's your brother's fault, you know," you shrug as you enter the ladies room.
"Oh, I know," Helaena nods, pulling what she needs out of her purse. Right before she dabs concealer to the purplish spot on your neck, she can't help but smirk and add, "but still... horny jail for you."
- - - - - - - - - - 
Aemond doesn't know how much more of this he can take.
The cameraman clicks again, the damned flash is enough to blind his remaining eye.
Alys, being Alys, brought her own personal photographer to the ball. Which is fine, all things considered. She does this for every ball, every year. Aemond's well versed in her ways.
But for some reason, now it's driving him to be more irate.
She positioned them in a partially hidden alcove at the back of the hall. Something to do with a painting she wants to get captured as the background. But it's taking too long, and Aemond can sense the attention of some guests being piqued.
If they ask to take photos with him, too, Aemond just might pull off a runner and abandon the bloody ball.
But not without you.
Where were you anyway? One second you were at the table, then the next you were trailing after Helaena back out of the hall.
At least it was his sister you are with, and not Jacaerys. Or gods forbid, that degenerate Stark boy.
It wouldn't matter to Aemond that he's not his father's top boy, his most precious heir. Whatever pull he has with the Dragonstone empire, he will use against Winterfell Limited, if Cregan Stark ever thinks he can have his way with you.
He catches himself, mid-thought.
And she still thinks I'm not rotten.
"Aemond," Alys lightly digs her nails in his arm, smiling through gritted perfect teeth. "Smile, why don't you?"
"I am."
"Just one more."
So he does. Barely. But it's enough to placate her, and she quickly sifts through the photos.
Almost on instinct, like he's a moth drawn to your flame, he spies you and Helaena making your way back in the hall. Arm in arm, laughing to each other. You bite your lip as you lean in and whisper something in her ear, which makes her shake her head and laugh even harder.
Several heads turn as you pass by, and Aemond can't really blame them.
"Just like that," Alys says out the blue.
"What?" Aemond turns to her, unaware that she stands beside him once more, her photographer already dismissed.
"If only you smiled like that for our photos," she says. "It looks good on you."
Was he smiling? He didn't even notice.
You turn your head just before sitting back down at the table, and catch his eye even as he stands near the end of the hall.
You always will.
Aemond smiles.
- - - - - - - - - - 
preview: part six
You hear it. There's someone at your front door. Living alone has never given you much anxiety before, and you didn't think it would start tonight. But who could be knocking at your door past midnight, when you didn't buzz anyone in? You were never on close terms with your neighbours, either. 
You sit on your couch looking like a deer in headlights, staring at the door like it's supposed to silence the knocking. 
When did you get so wary? It could be Jace. It could be Helaena. But then again, they're not the type to show up unannounced. And also, you would have buzzed them -
Aemond's voice calls out your name, quieting your worries. 
You can sense hesitance in his tone. Almost embarrassed. Like he knows he shouldn't be here. 
"Aemond?" you find your voice, and go to open the door. You start to ask him just what the hell he's doing here, but the words get caught in your throat. 
"Hi, darling," he says weakly, obviously tired. "I didn't know where else to go." 
Something resembling a gasp escapes your lips when you fully take in the fresh bruise blooming under his right eye, in angry shades of maroon and violet. The skin split slightly, but thankfully his eye is untouched.
"Aemond, what - "
"Can I come in?"
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Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn
oh, Maroon...
My Aemondfire is decisively back <3 expect more of our favourite boy.
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genshingorlsrevengeance · 6 months ago
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so i have a VERY BAD FEVER AND I WANT CRYO LADIES USING THEIR VISION TO COOL OF sick! S/O
(you can also add any other charafter of your liking ❤️❤️)
(Genshin Impact) Eula, Rosaria, Ayaka, Ganyu, and Shenhe using their vision on a sick S/O
This is completely unrelated to the ask, but while writing this I've been listening to the Winter Soldier theme from Captain America. And for such a lovely ask it is very strange writing to one of the hardest themes I've ever heard in my life.
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Eula huffs and puffs when her S/O gets sick, but absolutely does not hesitate to begin applying Cryo therapy.
As long as it wasn't contagious anyway.
With one hand gently resting against their forehead as she sits next to them in bed, Eula can't help but brush her fingers across their hair while doing so.
Her expression is gentle, until the moment S/O speaks up.
(Eula) "Am I enjoying this? Of course not, my plans must be halted because you had the audacity to fall ill. Something I will not forget easily, of course. I could always freeze you right here and now."
Yet, her hand is resting on S/O's face still, fingers rubbing down to their cheek as if they were made of glass.
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Rosaria honestly didn't think of using her Cryo vision to bring down S/O's fever.
She really only used it for work, and S/O sure as hell wasn't on her list for tonight of people to use it on.
But, at their insistence, she lets her hand cool them down, being very careful to use it sparingly.
(Rosaria) "If it gets too cold, let me know, I guess. Don't say I didn't warn you, though."
Rosaria tries to be as gentle as she can, and has to remove her gloves to avoid poking S/O in the eyes.
Her own hand feeling S/O so tenderly gets her a little flustered, the only way S/O can tell was by her actively avoiding meeting their eyes.
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Ayaka felt like a stroke of genius hit her when she brought S/O's high temperature down.
With a smile, Ayaka eagerly sits down with S/O in order to help.
(Ayaka) "Please, rest easy S/O. Would you like anything to eat while I'm here?"
She could just hire some help or get Thoma to help S/O, but part of her quite enjoyed being the one to care for S/O.
It was unfortunate they were sick, but she sure wasn't going to complain about spending time with S/O, especially when she could actively help them.
The entire time she's with them, Ayaka's smile never really goes away.
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Ganyu has done the same to herself whenever she felt under the weather, though without too much effect since she was used to the cold.
But she breathed a massive sigh on relief when it had a visible effect on S/O's fever.
(Ganyu) "Ah, good! It's working! The medicine should be working soon, but in the meantime!-"
She brings a little bit of her paperwork to get through as she sits next to S/O, multi-tasking to help them recover.
Even if her S/O insists that they don't have to worry, she'll still take care of them anyway.
Work was important, but the love of her life was even moreso.
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Shenhe, on top of retrieving some medicinal herbs and creating a brew concocted by her master, helps S/O's fever with her Vision.
...By grabbing onto their forehead with her entire hand, looking like she was about to crush their head instead of heal.
(Shenhe) "Are you comfortable S/O? Please relax and I'll bring down your temperature."
Careful with both her strength and Vision, she used them in moderation in order to help, much to S/O's terror when half their vision was blotted out by her palm.
The entire time Shenhe is focused on making sure S/O recovers well, trying her best to make sure they were comfortable.
Was it entirely comfortable? Truthfully, no. It was a little awkward.
But damned if S/O wasn't grateful that Shenhe was trying.
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