#depression hits and normal things suddenly feel like it's too much

[dyingswanpavlova]

Happier than ever

Part 1

Pairing: Nam-gyu × Reader × The Salesman

Warnings: Drug Usage, Overdose, Death, Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Suicide, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Mentions of Rape, Domestic Violence, Domestic Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Anger Issues, Depression, Long Backstory, Minors do not interact!

Nam-gyu and you were a couple for the last eight years. But after you decide you had enough of his anger issues, you leave him and try to be happy on your own. Oh, how naïve you are.

Author's note: Okay, everyone.😩 I know you're waiting for the next part of "Your girl" and trust me, I am, too! I'm sorry that I haven't come up with it yet, but I needed to get my mind off of it for a moment, because I don't want to just write anything and publish it like that - the story means too much to me. I can't publish it unless I'm happy with it, but I promise you, I'm working on it. Until then, I started to furiously hit the key board and this happened. Whatever this is, it is Part 1 of it and I'm doing a Part 2, I just don't know when yet. I love you! 🤍 Lana

Loving Nam-gyu wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.

In fact, it was almost impossible on most days.

But there was a part of you, a thing, a quiet voice – something that needed to be reassured, that felt like maybe you were the problem.

There had been good days, hadn’t there? Your birthday and the way he woke you up with pancakes every year. Of course they turned out horrible and were barely edible. They were raw on the inside and somehow, he still managed to burn them. But he made them for you. The memory still made you smile, despite everything.

Then there was the day you had your big ballet performance. You had spent so many months rehearsing, trying to be perfect. You went all Natalie Portman on that performance. Since the moment you’d been told you got to play Odette, you were fire and flame, spending every waking moment trying to be everything you pictured in your head. It was hard, very hard even. But you had the great hope that, if maybe you did well enough, they would come.

Your family would come and watch. They’d finally show you that they did indeed love you, that you weren’t just a burden or an accident. They would come and they would be proud of you. Your father would set his work phone down, your mother her pills. They would be there. For you.

But of course, they didn’t. You should have known better. It was your own fault, hoping and praying for something that was never going to happen. You should have known.

And still, the moment the curtain lifted and you glanced along the rows and rows of people, you felt disappointed. But you didn’t feel disappointed like normal people would, no. It was you after all. You felt devastated. You felt all of your creativity leave your mind. Your body slowly forgot the choreography. Your eyes glistened with tears. And your life was over.

You had your own issues. He had his anger. You had your world endings.

That was until the door flew open after everyone was already seated, waiting for the show to begin. A few heads turned and your gaze quickly flashed towards the now open door, revealing the face of the mysterious newcomer. He was out of breath and his hair was a mess, his cheeks glowing red and the look in his eyes pleading.

It was Nam-gyu.

You had just had the greatest argument of your life so far, throwing around dishes and screaming your lungs out at each other. Not even twelve hours had passed since then, so you were more than sure that he wouldn’t come. After all, he was the least reliable person you knew, alongside your family. And that fight had been particularly bad. You actually didn’t expect to ever see him again.

But there he was, his appearance disheveled and his eyes pleading with you. Pleading with you to forgive him, pleading with you to dance.

Dance.

You remembered the way you felt. The way your disappointment suddenly turned into something different, something hopeful and warm.

Something good.

He was good.

He was yours.

And you were his.

In that moment, there was nothing else. Everything around you faded into a dark cloud and all you could focus on was him and the way he stood in the middle of the audience, staring up at you. The world was quiet and everything smelled like flowers. The perfection you were striving for was suddenly there and it had nothing to do with your performance.

It was a slow dance, slow and sensual, between your souls.

Until suddenly the music started and your body remembered the movements again.

And you were indeed perfect.

Unfortunately though it wasn’t always like that. Most of the time, he was simply complicated. When he wasn’t drugged out of his mind, he was angry. Not at all the time – but easily. All you had to do was say the wrong thing and he’d explode. And you’d explode right back, right into his face.

“I fucking hate you!”

“Shut the fuck up, you dumb slut!”

“Who are you calling a slut?! You son a bitch!”

“Say that again!”

It always ended the same way. You sobbing on the floor, him slamming the door shut and disappearing. That were the good fights.

The bad ones were different. You couldn’t count the times you had been forced to take shelter in the bathroom, quickly locking the door, too afraid to let him even close to you. Of course you knew how to fight back. You didn’t let him get away with slapping you, oh no, you kneed him right in the balls so he’d know better not to fuck with you. He’d normally collapse and the fight would be over. But sometimes, on especially bad days, he got that look on him.

It wasn’t careful or hesitant. No, it was murderous and terrifying. You always knew there was something dangerous about him. That was probably what drew you in at first. But this…It was different. When he got that look, when the drugs clouded his mind like that, you were truly afraid of what he might do. And so you locked yourself in and listened to the way he pounded against the door, ready to break it down. So far, he hadn’t. A part of him was still in there, even when got like that.

But you didn’t want to push your luck.

After eight years of up and down, back and forth and through the gates of Hell, you finally left him for good. At first he probably didn’t believe it. After all, you had pulled the leaving card a million times before. But somehow you always ended up back in his bed, with him fucking your brains out and calling it making up.

But this time, you meant it. It had been a pretty normal Tuesday. You were at work, waiting tables and cleaning up after your mindless customers. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it paid the bills – albeit, barely.

After your father left and married a woman hardly any older than you and you found your mother on the bathroom floor, cold and stiff, her eyes wide and her chin and hair covered in foam and puke, you decided couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t be that anymore.

You moved in with Nam-gyu. It started off well at first. He was as cute as ever, when he was sober. Sure, you had fights already, but they were mostly trivial. Yelling was involved, throwing furniture around as well, but he never got violent with you so far.

He found a job, as did you and you paid your apartment together. It was tiny of course, but it was enough. You bought groceries and washed laundry. You even had some spare money to buy furniture and decorations. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. You did everything the way you always pictured it.

You had been with Nam-gyu since you turned seventeen. You met back in school and immediately fell in love with him. He had been so sweet. Acting overly confident and arrogant, of course, but it was just a front which you immediately realized. Under all that he was actually rather silly. He made you laugh without even trying. Even he seemed surprised by how good you two matched. So far he’d been going through life, acting like everyone was beneath him. But in reality, he wasn’t popular. He was a bully. He was mean, with a cruel streak. But never to you. No, when someone dared to speak up their mind against you, he was there, ready to break their jaw. You formed a friendship of sort. He was protective and extremely possessive, while you were caring. His family was a bunch of assholes, just like yours was and neither of you had any real friends.

Most of your friends were other dancers and neither of those were really sentimental. Sure, it was enough to go out for a salad sometimes, but you really weren’t one for bulimia and cigarettes. Most of them were, unfortunately.

You loved food. You loved to eat and you appreciated every bite. You’d grown up rather lonely on your own, praying every night for a sibling or a real friend. Someone you could talk to, about real problems. Your ballet friends though? Whenever they asked you how you felt, they didn’t actually want to know. They were just being polite.

Nam-gyu was just as lonely, though he wouldn’t have ever admitted it. He had friends, who were to no one’s surprise, also a bunch of assholes. Some of them were just bullies, others were straight-up rapists.

“What do you mean, you changed your mind? Are you dumb? Shut the fuck up and take it. You agreed to this!”

Nam-gyu wasn’t. It was another thing he wouldn’t have admitted to out loud, but the thought of fucking someone while they were out of it was something he wasn’t after. A thing that really turned him on was to see the pleasure on the other person’s face. The moans, the sighs. He wouldn’t get that if he just made them take it. And so he didn’t. But he tried to keep a straight face, when his friends shared their immoral stories of last weekend. He tried to laugh, when they spoke about the way the girls curled up in self-hatred after they left them there, their cum leaking out of them.

That was until one of the girls ended up killing herself.

She had been super sad and melancholic for as long anyone could remember. She was rather quiet and no-one really spoke to her. She wasn’t weird or anything, just really shy. That was enough to get bullied. She was an obvious virgin and rather closed-off. A good challenge. A great bet.

So, one of his friends placed a bet with the others. Fuck the girl.

“No way that weirdo is letting you anywhere close to her.”

And she didn’t, at first. She didn’t trust anyone around, because people normally made fun of her. But that guy, who went by Nic, was a real good actor. He didn’t walk up to her and just made advances. No, he played shy around her. Sweet. Funny. He managed to tickle a smile out of her. A laugh. And he didn’t just do it once. He did it for days. Weeks. Two months. He played her boyfriend. Her sweet, shy boyfriend. Until her front slowly crumbled and she fell in love with him. Deeply. So much that she actually decided to give Nic her first.

According to Nic it had been nothing out of the ordinary, but Nam-gyu knew it was more than that. He could read the people around him fairly well, and he could also see the way Nic’s pupils dilated, the way his heart skipped a beat, whenever his sweet, little girlfriend was around.

But his friends, his friends, they were constantly at his back.

“Did you finally fuck her?”

“Did you stretch that weird little cunt, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for that Wednesday Addams bitch.”

Nic had a reputation to uphold. And so he did what he deemed necessary. He had sex with her and then he dumped her. But not like any normal person would. No, he made fun of her in the worst ways and ended up sending her nudes to anyone who was interested.

The same nudes he had begged her to send him, to trust him, for only his eyes.

And the next day, the gruesome news were heard over speaker.

She was dead. Jumped off her apartment building, right into her death.

Nic had a mental breakdown. No-one else from his group really cared. No-one except for Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu spent the rest of the day in his car, staring down at the steering wheel and trying not to throw up.

You had heard the news of course and you were devastated. You hadn’t known the girl, but you had never been mean to her. You actually remembered a few interactions you had. You knew there had been something going on between her and Nam-gyu’s friend. But naïve, little you had had the hope that it wasn’t a trick. How stupid you had been.

You spent the rest of the day looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Right when you already thought maybe he wasn’t at school at all, you saw his car. He was inside and God, he looked horrible. With red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands, all day. You tried your best to comfort him, but it was futile. He felt guilty. Someone was dead. And maybe, just maybe, if he had intervened in time…

You tried to make him understand that it wasn’t his fault, not entirely. He never spoke to his friends again.

You’d later find out, that was the day he took his first injection. So far all he had been doing were mushrooms and weed, but Hell, who hadn’t?

You spent more and more time together, because he firmly ignored everyone who was so damn fucked in the head. He was trying to be good, he was trying so hard. Life hadn’t been easy on him, not at all, but he still tried.

A month later, you had your first kiss. Another three days later you had sex. It was your first time and he was being surprisingly gentle and considerate. You loved thinking back to it, because you didn’t regret it at all. No matter what else happened between you afterwards, you could never regret giving your virginity to him, because it meant so much to you. And it seemed to mean even more to him.

Two years later, it was safe to say you were made for each other. Even long after being out of school, you were still a couple. He still got these angry outbursts sometimes, but you tried to understand him. He had grown up, feeling unseen and unloved by anyone. As did you. You weren’t angry per say. But you got angry, when he did. You had these desperate mood swing. And whenever something didn’t go your way, you felt like the world was ending. You felt everything intensely.

Love was great. It was all-consuming. You loved him in the same way he did. You adored him. Anger was different. It felt suffocating. Sadness wasn’t sadness, but depression. And despair was enough to nearly kill you.

You tried going to university, but that didn’t work out, because your father left and so you had no chance to pay the tuition. Nam-gyu never even bothered to try, because he knew he would fail anyway, but he tried whatever he could to make your dream work. You wanted to work with animals, heal them, help them, do whatever you could to make someone’s life better. But despite all your – and his – efforts, it didn’t work out. It was simply too much. He was heartbroken when you were forced to leave school, because of your selfish prick of a father. But it was alright.

You’d find another job. You could still make it in life, even without university. Everything was good.

That was, until you couldn’t afford your dance practice any longer.

That was heartbreaking.

One day, you came home after a long day of playing cashier, only to find your mother had stolen all the money you had saved so far. She took it to buy pills or whatever else. You couldn’t even be mad at her, because she lay passed out in the doorway to her room.

You had no money. And all your dreams were dead.

By the time that happened you were far into twenty-one, so you knew that life was cruel and you turned more and more bitter.

Nam-gyu was simply angry, but there was not much he could do. His parents threw him out at nineteen, so he had been paying his own rent since then. He tried speculating with cryptocurrency, but that didn’t work out. He played it down, but you knew he lost quite the amount of his own savings.

A year later your mother died and you finally moved in together. So far you hadn’t been able to leave her on her own, but now that she was gone, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place where she had died. The cemetery of what could have been. Countless dour memories, not a single one good.

You had never had a particularly good relationship, but she was your mother nonetheless. The sight of her dead body and horrified face, it haunted you in your sleep. You spent more than one night, waking up screaming, sweating and clutching the linens. Luckily, Nam-gyu was there to catch you, before you ever managed to fall into the deep pit that was your mind.

He managed to calm you down somehow, every time. He was perfect. The perfect boyfriend.

Until he wasn’t.

You hated when he did drugs, especially so after what had happened to your mother. And so he said he wouldn’t, but it was obviously just to pacify you. You always noticed when he did it nonetheless, you knew the dazed look in his eyes, the paleness of his skin. Whenever he refused a meal, it was obvious to you. Normally, he’d choke down everything you cooked like a starved animal, but there were days when he picked at his food and that was always the first indication.

His short responses, his temper, suddenly so easily flared. It didn’t take long for your first real argument to break out. It was fine, up until the point when you saw his hand twitch. Obviously, you shot him a murderous look, daring him. If he dared to hit you, you’d break his fucking jaw.

And he refrained. For then.

Things went mostly normal, until the next fight. That time he wasn’t so gentle. Things got out of hand and he pushed you against the wall, smashing your head against it in the process. For a moment, you were simply stunned – and even he seemed to be. He stopped before he could cause any greater damage.

Things went between good and bad, it was a constant battle for dominance. One day was good, the next day horrible. You couldn’t even look at him without earning a harsh comment. You’d ignore him firmly for the rest of the day and eventually he’d come crawling back, begging you to let him back inside the bedroom. He didn’t mind the couch, he just missed you. And somehow you always forgave him, far too easily. Sometimes he did change for a while. Surprised you with flowers or his sad attempts at cooking. Every time he messed up a scrambled egg, you couldn’t help but get weak. He was so silly, it was endearing. Yet at the same time, you knew there was something dark within him. Most likely the drugs, but you could never tell for sure.

Maybe this was just who he was.

Things got better and worse again, until one night, he snapped. You had a fight about one of your co-workers, who he considered a threat. You never understood it, because to you it was so obvious that you never wanted anyone else. Despite your problems, you stayed fiercely loyal to him. You loved Nam-gyu. And a part of you still believed that in the end, things would turn out good. Maybe they would, right?

But that night was bad. He got so furious and when he yelled at you, the walls seemed to shake. You were normally so eager to fight back, so strong, but that day something was different. You were on your period and just a few hours earlier, you had met a dance friend of yours. She told you, she was sure that, if you had stayed, you’d be famous by now. But she wasn’t kind about it. She was subtly looking down at you, shaming you for the way your life had turned out. It made a tight knot form in your stomach and you felt your resolve slowly crumble. All you wanted was to cry, but even that didn’t work, because you came home to a furious Nam-gyu.

Your shoulders slumped and you refused to look at him, which only ever made him angrier.

You didn’t see the slap coming, but once it happened, you couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t forget the anger and the disappointment that welled up in you. When you looked up at him, you expected the tiniest bit of regret or guilt, but there was nothing. He was too deep in his bubble of anger and substance, to see clearly. He got more and more furious and you knew; if you didn’t hide then, he’d do something worse. It was the first night you hid yourself away in the bathroom, one of many to follow. You always told yourself it were the drugs. He was so sweet when he was sober, so gentle and loving. You kept telling yourself, things would be good one day. They would turn out well. With time and patience.

Until you snapped.

You were at work, staring off into the distance. You had been out of it all day, because you spent the previous night locked in the bathroom, until he finally passed out around four in the morning. You snuck out and made your way to your workplace, where you opened more than three hours early. You had nowhere else to go. No family, no friends, no one. Only you and your pain. All day you spent trying to cover the dark marks on your wrists, but no one seemed to care anyway. People went about their own lives and problems and you were just their co-worker, their waitress.

You stood silently, watching an elderly couple whose order you had just taken. They were so sweet, like they came right out of a movie. He held the door open for her and pulled her chair back. He caressed her cheek and she never flinched when he reached out his hand for her. They smiled at each other with such a tenderness, it brought tears to your eyes. That was the exact moment. That was the moment you realized you didn’t want to continue on living like this.

You wanted more. You deserved more.

You made your way back and gathered most of your things while he was still at work. Of course it wasn’t the most intelligent approach, but it was all you could do. You knew, the moment you sat down and tried to explain to him that you were going to leave him, he’d find a way to convince you to stay. It had been eight years, after all. Eight years on and off, eight years up and down. Drugs, violence, lies – at least he never cheated on you.

You’d keep that in tender memory of him. As well as the countless times he had comforted and fought for you. All the times he made you laugh, all the times he made you feel loved. The greatest sex you would ever have, no doubt.

But you still packed your things and left like a ghost. After eight years.

He tried to contact you of course, the moment he came home. But you took your paycheck and went to a motel. Whenever he tried to find you at work, you hid in the kitchen. Your co-workers tried to calm him down, to tell him that you didn’t work there any longer, but he saw through the lie. He got loud and furious, which you could kind of understand. You stayed in the kitchen, crying to yourself and feeling incredibly guilty, but you didn’t ever come out.

He kept coming, but it got less and less frequent. From what your co-workers told you, he seemed less and less like himself. The thought broke your heart and nearly made you go back.

You were constantly in your head, making more and more mistakes at work, until your boss’s patience finally snapped. When you messed up the third customers giant bill, he fired you. You instantly panicked, because you were sure, now you had to go back.

You even drove around in your car, trying to get a glimpse of him in the apartment. But to your horror, you didn’t see Nam-gyu in the window. It were other people, some couple actually. And when you tried to call him, the number wasn’t available. Suddenly, he was a ghost and you were knee deep in horse shit.

It didn’t take long for your money to go and so you ended up panicking. You had to leave the motel soon and if you didn’t get a job – you’d end up homeless. Which was as good as dead.

A few days later, after you realized that you seemed to have no special talents and that no one really cared to hire you, you sat at the metro station. You had only one option left or so you thought. Le girls girls girls. You were a dancer. You were graceful. You were too good for this.

But it was all you could do. After all, the girls didn’t have to indulge in any immoral transactions. They were just dancing, right? Fine, in light clothing, but still dancing. You could do that.

You were deep in thought, your eyes closed and your head leaned against the wall behind you, when you heard someone’s voice.

“Care for a game of Ddakji?”

This was when your life took a dark turn.

You eyed the handsome stranger with suspicion. It was super odd. A man going down the path of middle age, slicked-back hair, wearing a suit and a briefcase on him.

And he was asking you to play a game with him?

You frowned and glanced around.

“I don’t know what you want, but you won’t get it from me.”

He smirked and tilted his head to the side innocently.

“I don’t want anything. Just a little game. That’s all. You got something to win here. I got money.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not a fucking hooker.”

He smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And I told you, all I want is to play a game. Are you scared?”

That made you bristle. You knew the game and you fucking hated it. You were fairly good at playing at, but you didn’t care for this idiot’s audacity. You were about to snap at him again, when you caught sight of the money. Your eyes widened and you sank back against the wall.

“I don’t have any money.” You murmured back.

“Don’t worry. You can pay with your body.”

Your head shot up and you were ready to lunge at him, but he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I have no intention of fucking you.” He said calmly. “So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared?”

You crossed your arms and got up, giving him a dirty look.

“Get to it, son of a bitch.”

Your eyes fluttered open slowly. You had trouble adjusting your sight to the unnatural, neon light. The smell was odd, somewhat disinfectant. Something was really wrong.

You slowly stretched and turned your head, only to see you weren’t alone. That was enough to nearly make you shriek. You sat up quickly enough to get dizzy. Next to your own bunk was a woman who stared at you through her cat-eyes. She smirked devilishly as she lay on her side.

“Your fate is sealed. There’s no way you can dance your way out of this.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart raced in your chest. This had to be some freakish co-incidence. You took your gaze off her, only to realize you weren’t alone. Countless people surrounded you, some of them awake, others still asleep. They all wore the same green tracksuit, just as you did.

You took a shaky breath and carefully swung your legs over the bed, heading for the ladder.

What, in God’s name, was this? And why did you agree to it?

You only remembered how ashamed you felt and how good the prospect sounded of not having to dance half-naked for strange men.

But was this really better?

You glanced around in the hope of…Of what? The situation was far too fucked up.

The fact that they got you here unconsciously, getting you dressed…

You wanted to throw up. You stumbled through the great hall, hoping to get some answers to your questions, but that hope quickly got crushed.

These were the real strange men. Dressed in pink suits, wearing masks which covered all of their faces and even their voices weren’t their own. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a fun game, you suddenly realized.

That Ddakji playing motherfucker had deceived you.

You lost the first round, which resulted in him slapping you. And that slap, which hadn’t really been a gentle one, awakened some kind of beast in you. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the memory of getting slapped and hunted down your own apartment on a regular basis. Whatever it was, you didn’t lose another round. He gave you money and money and money. But you didn’t want his fucking money. You wanted revenge.

You kept winning, because nothing else was possible. And by the end of the game, he smiled at you while he handed you the damned card.

But right before he turned crawled back into the pit of Hell where he had come from, you called out to him.

“Hey, motherfucker.”

He cocked a brow and regarded you with amusement. “Are you still mad about that tiny, little hit? Come on, you took it like a champ.”

“Then you should, too.”  You slapped him with an intensity, you didn’t think you’d ever possess.

He looked at you like a statue, obviously ready to lunge at and murder you. But he hid his murderous intent behind a well-rehearsed smile.

“That one was free.” He said calmly. “And if I ever do see you again, I want a return match.”

He left and you were left with the card.

And there you were now. This wasn’t some childish game of Ddakji.

No one showed their face. You knew what that meant. Something was wrong – and you were in trouble.

You were about to leave the hall and take part in the first game, following after the others. You wouldn’t even have noticed, had you not bumped into him full-force.

When you pulled back your head, ready to apologize, you froze.

There he was. Your Nam-gyu. Staring back at you with wide eyes, behind them a mixture of something akin to surprise and fury.

“What the fuck?” He hissed.

He rushed forward and grabbed your by the shoulders, backing you up against the wall. Your eyes widened and you tried to push him back, but he was driven by something far stronger than both of you.

“Nam-gyu?” You breathed out.

He frowned deeply and stared at you incredulously.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I didn’t-“

“Oh my God, I’m going to kill you.” He growled. “Where were you? What’s going on with you? Are you fucking-“

“Is there a problem here?” At first, you didn’t see the guy behind him with his ridiculous hairstyle and pouty lips. Immediately, you hated the sight of him.

“Fuck, she’s my-“

The purple-haired guy gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Whatever, man. We should get going, huh? We’ll be late for the game.”

He eyed you in an odd way, but you pushed it down and used the moment to free yourself from Nam-gyu’s grip and run out, rushing after the others and hiding in the crowd. He attempted to follow you and even called out to you, but you were already gone.

Fuck, you thought.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

[happiest-hotch]

The Brink of Collapse

Summary: Aaron and reader have been on the brink of divorce for a long time. And then suddenly he's there, and feelings come to a head.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: very angsty, talk of divorce, mentions of strippers

It's been an odd month.

Surreal, in some ways.

You and Aaron have been on the brink of divorce for a while, but once you finally said the word, everything changed. It opened up a new world of feelings and even more hurt.

It didn't seem possible to feel more hurt, but here you are, sitting on the couch, feet tucked beside you, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. You need it for your nighttime reading, the first draft of a separation agreement, your and Aaron's full names on the top.

It feels like physical proof that you and Aaron have failed. Every sacrifice that was made in the decade you had been together wasn't enough. All the love in the world wasn't enough.

It hits you in a deeper place in your chest than you knew existed, and it makes breathing difficult.

Those papers are a taunt you've been putting off confronting, but it's time. It's something you have to do.

Your eyes gloss over the words, but you catch yourself slipping into a defense strategy where your name is removed from you, and it's a draft divorce settlement of detached clients.

"Late-night reading?" His voice makes you jump, startled by his appearance in front of you.

You had spaced out, thought he escaped through the front door to avoid whatever this awkward situation could be categorized as. You find yourself wishing that he did as he looks at you, trying to profile your thoughts. Dick.

You're both trying to keep life somewhat normal for the children, not wanting them to be caught up in your mess which means when he's in DC, he picks them up for the day and drops them back home. You just thought he'd leave out the front door rather than come across the house to talk to you.

"It's not that late." You reply. "Do you actually want to do this?" You're not sure why you ask, not when it's going to hurt.

"Do what, Ms. L/n?" Aaron asks, but he knows. He walks behind the couch and into the kitchen, taking the open bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass without invitation.

"Get divorced." You answer before adding something you probably shouldn't since there's no need. "I'm still technically Mrs. Hotchner."

He doesn't chuckle at your quip, but he looks close. "You wouldn't be holding that if we didn't." Carefully chosen words, as expected. "I've always loved that part of your name."

You scoff, shaking your head. "That's a conflicting message."

Aaron shrugs, sitting down on the couch next to you. You kind of wish he hadn't. He could have just gone back to wherever he's staying and you wouldn't have to do this metaphorical dance.

"They're not mutually exclusive." He explains. You try to keep a neutral expression, but it's hard to hear that your soon-to-be ex-husband likes that you have the same surname. "I love the name, doesn't mean we can't get divorced."

"I won't be Mrs. Hotchner then." You remind him, but you keep it lighthearted in tone.

The air is getting too grave and when things get too grave, you both say too much. It's painful conversation, of late. No more 'I love you's and bleeding heart promises of fixing it. You both know you're beyond repair so you talk about that, and it's getting depressing.

He shrugs. "Not necessarily. Plenty of women keep the name after divorce."

Divorce.

That dirty word that's become your reality.

"I've not considered it." You confess. It seems easier to be honest about something little. "Would it bother you? If I kept it?"

He waits a beat, staring into the semi-opaque wine. "No. Not in the slightest."

"I feel it could get real awkward." You admit and he frowns, not understanding what you mean. "When someone says, 'Oh, are you related to Aaron Hotchner' and I have to say, 'Yeah, he's my ex-husband.' I mean, you know half this town."

Aaron considers it for a second, that thoughtful frown on his brows. "I hadn't considered it." Obviously. "You have my blessing if you keep it."

You chuckle humorlessly. "Thanks."

"This whole thing doesn't have to be adversarial." He reminds you, but it's not condescending. He's almost smiling, lips tugging up at the corners.

Your eyes narrow at him. "Have I done something to make this feel adversarial?"

It's snider than it needs to be, but he comes back professionally. "No. But I've seen couples in our situation start arguing, even yelling, at every step."

You snort out a laugh. "The life of divorce attorneys, right?" He's telling it like you don't know like you're not still in the job he left for the FBI. You bite your bottom lip, considering whether to drive the conversation in a different direction, and come to the conclusion that it might make the conversation lighter and with it, stop the clenching feeling of your heart. "Do you still remember the Beamounts?"

He laughs louder than you've heard in a while. That does the trick and gives you a quick breath of relief, but it's gone as soon as it's there. "I couldn't forget it." He assures you. "Do you still have her little card? The one you kept in your wallet?"

You're almost giddy listening to him laugh, and it makes you giggle as you recall it. "Yes! She ran those exotic dance clubs, I remember. I'm still not sure if I'm offended she gave me the card… like, I can't work out if she thought I might be interested and would want to come watch, or if she thought I'd like to leave seven years of school and a law career behind to strip."

"Do you want me to take care of that card? It's been in there for what? Twelve years?"

His offer throws you a little, but your reaction comes out as teasing. "Oh, do you need her card? Now that we're about to be divorced?"

"I certainly don't." Unsurprising, he has no trouble with women. "But I do want to preserve your wallet's purity."

"I think she gave me the non-explicit version." You explain to him. "I'm sure there are some racy ones out there for guys that are into that stuff..." Something prompts you to push it further. "Like you."

Aaron laughs again, and you get another breath. "Very occasionally." He assures you.

"There's photographic evidence, Aaron." You remind him, smiling softly at the photos Morgan showed you of some BAU boys' nights out. Aaron looked so uncomfortable, and you're sure he spent the entire evening refusing to look at any woman's assets. It makes your stomach churn knowing that, if the situation arises again, he won't act the same way. "Unfortunately, good old Mrs. Beamount is spoken for these days, so I guess the card has no use to you."

He hits you with something you don't expect, although maybe you should have since it's in line with your mutual reminiscing. "That was the first time we met. Just baby lawyers thrown into the craziest case."

"I remember laughing with you about how ridiculous it was." The first time you laughed together about that, you breathed deeper than you ever have before. "Do you remember the thing with the dog?"

He snorts with laughter. It's probably not meant to be as attractive a sound as it is. "That damn chihuahua he insisted was possessed? I remember being so annoyed because I knew the dog couldn't be possessed. I kept asking myself what I'd done so wrong in my life that I had a client expecting me to argue it." Hearing his thoughts now is different than just laughing about back then. "Then when we got there, the damn animal was barking and growling in a demonic way. That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life. It was possessed."

The passion with how he talks about a damn dog makes you smile. "Now imagine everyone seeing that and having to argue it wasn't demonic." You remind him of what your position was as his opposing counsel. "I felt so ridiculous arguing it. And she wanted the divorce settlement to include him taking it to the groomer." You shake your head disapprovingly at the memory. "It creeped me out that she kept it in her purse. That was the ugliest dog I'd ever seen."

It's odd to be laughing with him, considering your precarious relationship circumstances, and even odder that it's about the first case. Surely it should be about what Eden said today, bonding over your kids seems less intimate than talking about when you met.

"I remember she even tried to make herself look more motherly and nurturing in court, by taking care of it during the proceedings." He continues.

It's like you're watching the whole thing again, but you know how it ends. "I was just praying she wouldn't start breastfeeding it." You say. "Her boobs were so plastic that I think if she put that rabid dog near them, he'd chew them."

Aaron loses it laughing, clearly seeing the mental image that worried you 12 years ago. "Okay, okay, that's enough." He finally manages to get out.

You finish off the laughter, letting it die down rather than continuing the conversation.

"What did you think of me?" He asks, a surprising tangent. "When we first met?"

You know he knows since it had been discussed it a few times between dating and marriage, wanting to reminisce. Why he's asking now, you're not sure, and why you're answering, you're even less sure.

"I thought you were a jerk." You admit.

He laughs, but he's thinking about whether you think that again now. "Yeah?" He prompts you to go on.

"That's what happens when you arrive at a mediation meeting five minutes late with Ferrari keys." You remind him with the same disapproving frown.

You can still remember when he walked into the big boardroom, dressed in a perfectly fitted dark blue suit with his hair longer than it is now and parted down the middle. Compared to now, he looked so young, just 25 and straight out of law school, not having seen the most awful parts of the world. He's different now. His shoulder bag switched out for a briefcase being the most minor change.

When he walked into the room that first day, you were equally as pissed off by and attracted to him. It's full circle that you feel that way again.

"I had to find parking." He reasons.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You didn't valet your car?"

"After the Ferrari, things were tight," Aaron says, but it's a joke. You both know he has money, the separation agreement dividing your assets wouldn't be so long if neither of you had money. "What about after that?" He asks. Sadistic or masochistic, you're not sure. It hurts you to relieve it in your memory, but is it hurting him?

"I was leaving that meeting. As fast as I could, of course." You pause for his laughter. "And you were already in the elevator." It hurts to recall, just like you expected. "I wondered if I should join you."

You still wonder now, if you made the right decision that day. On one hand, you'd have none of the good memories, but on the other, you wouldn't feel like your chest was clenching and your heart was threatening to shatter with each breath.

You decide to keep telling the story. "And I did. And you made me laugh, right off the bat, both of us giggling about the ridiculousness of our clients."

"Not very professional." He notes with a smirk. "Opposing counsel gossiping about their clients."

Your eyebrows pull together in a frown. "Why'd you make the first joke then?"

He wants to tell you it's because he needed to make you laugh, just to hear it and see you smile. His fear takes over and he settles for a quip. "I mean, you looked uptight, but I could tell you weren't."

Your scoff is accompanied by you hitting his shoulder, both of you laughing and it suddenly hits you that you're flirting with him.

It must hit him too because what he says is out of left field. "Part of me wonders if the reason you're only just looking at that is because, on some level, you're hoping we'll fix things and get back together." Fuck! Aaron has always been a straight shooter, but that was far too much honesty.

You gulp, the saliva in your mouth drying up. "Hey, let's just not go there, okay?" You offer. It's not a conversation you want to be having. Your mixed emotions coupled with his ability to push you, it's not a good combination.

"Sure." He admits, but his tone suggests he's unhappy, and so does his sigh. You're begging him with your eyes not to push it, to leave the house and the conversation, and not make it awkward and hurtful. "I never wanted this to be an argument. Do you know that? I know I've never been great at communicating and all this, but I've always tried to do the best for you, always tried to... I mean, I've never gotten divorced before, so I'm still feeling out the right way to do it."

You're not impressed he's lying through his teeth. Both of you know he didn't "always" do his best at communicating. Those last few months, he barely spoke to you. In fact, this conversation might contain more words than an entire few months.

And is there a "right way" to get divorced? You don't know, but you wish you could stop picking apart everything he's saying, overanalyzing.

You're caught on the first statement. "This isn't an argument, is it?"

"I guess not, but there's a vibe." He points out. "Maybe I'm being hypersensitive. Listen, I know this is hard. I think we both knew this probably wasn't going to be the easiest thing, right?"

You avert your gaze from him, a few tears welling in your eyes. "Yeah, we knew that."

"Hey, look at me." He implores.

You tilt your head to the ceiling, trying to stop crying before you start.

"If you're not ready to do this, then please just talk to me." He says- begs. "Please talk to me."

It's ironic really, him sitting there begging you to talk to him when formerly, it's been you doing the begging for him to share his feelings with you. An embarrassing amount of begging, really.

"Please don't do this." You beg back. "I'm not interested in the idea of being vulnerable in front of you, okay?"

He sighs a bit, hands falling to his side. The look on his face you can read. He's upset about not being able to comfort you, and he's begging himself not to show it. What the fuck does that mean?

"Fine." He agrees. "It's... I don't think I ever fully realized how much this whole thing would hurt, but I'm seeing it now."

You don't thank him sarcastically for being obvious. It's twisted that he's spilling his emotions now, and it's hard not to be resentful about it. If he had just fucking talked to you when you begged him to every night in your last month together, you wouldn't be here. It's too little, too late.

"I guess." You agree. "We'll just get it over with."

It stings his heart, so he stings you back. Whether it's intentional or on reaction, you can't tell. "Maybe you're right and we should get it drafted and signed so we can be finished as soon as possible." But, most surprisingly, he flip-flops. "I miss you, Y/n."

It's the same rollercoaster of emotions that your brain is riding in your head, but at least you're not saying it out loud and confusing the shit out of him. "Don't say that, Aaron." You warn him.

He has the nerve to be surprised by your harsh tone. "...what? It's just a fact. I miss you. Why is that bad to say?"

"Because I missed you for four months while you had one foot out the door of this marriage." You finally snap.

Aaron looks stunned and it only makes you angrier and more upset. "I know," He tells you.

He knows, but he'd never do anything about it. You try to act casual, taking a deep breath. "Okay." You attempt to leave it at that.

He won't let the conversation go. "I should have fought for us."

"You still can." You're not sure why you say it, but you do. Maybe you give him one last chance because you'll regret it forever if you don't.

"I am more in love with you than I have ever been." He bursts out, unable to help himself given the chance.

It makes your heart soar and your eyes water. You sit there silently, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly like it might protect you.

"I never should have put you in a position where you felt like something was wrong with us." Aaron looks at you so sincerely that you can't help the tears running down your cheeks. "It got to a point where I felt like I couldn't fix it so I didn't try, and I'm aware that was the wrong choice every day."

"I don't know what to say." You tell him. "Why bother coming to this conclusion, and telling me about it, when it's too late?" Maybe you're protecting yourself more than you need to be.

Aaron shakes his head. "Because it isn't."

"Aaron." You shake your head, holding up the literal divorce papers that exist to remind him. "So much has happened in the last four months."

"Not too much, though." He emphasizes.

He's pushing a button that makes your emotions boil over. "I don't even know where you're sleeping." You remind him firmly.

"Holy shit, Y/n!" Aaron's quick to assure you of what might have been going on in your head. "No." He pauses. "I'm sleeping at my office." You can't say that doesn't relieve you. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. Since the day I met you, I've never looked at anyone the same."

His strong assurances make you cry more. "I don't know if we can fix this." You admit, disappointed in yourself.

"We absolutely can." He pleads to you. "You said we should get a divorce because love isn't enough to make this better, but there is more than love here. I am committed to you and I want to fix this."

You continue your tears and he reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You lean into his soft touch. "I do too." You admit, the realization alleviating some of the aching in your chest.

"You mean the world to me," Aaron tells you firmly. "I will do anything to get us back on track. I wasn't before and I know I was stupid for it, but I'm listening, Y/n. To everything you need and want."

"I think we need help." You confess. "Like professional help."

He can't nod fast enough. "I agree. We can get that."

You stop him before he can pull out his phone. "Tomorrow." You request. "I just want a hug."

He hasn't had you in his arms in far too long, and he reaches out for you. You lay on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you.

"Wow, I've missed you." He hums, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.

You sniffle your tears, nodding in agreement. "Me too."

"Y/n, I will never let it get this far again," Aaron assures you. "I was stupid and I can't lose you. I love you."

You're sure you feel the same way. Everything definitely wasn't fixed and there was a lot to do, but one thing you're sure about is being married to Aaron Hotchner. "I love you too."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Broken

Wonze x Child!Reader

Summary: You break your arm

There's not really any other way Lucy can describe you but depressed.

With your arm stuck in a cast, you're severely limited in what you can do and you just kind of trudge after Keira.

The atmosphere in the house has been a bit frosty since the accident and Lucy knows it's her fault. She's the one that wasn't watching you on the climbing frame at the park until after the nasty tumble that had your arm snapping when you tried to put it out to stop your fall.

Keira's right to be pissed off at her but your own bad moods have noticeably worsened everything.

You cry a lot more now and you keep whacking your cast on things that wouldn't usually cause you pain.

"How's baby bear?" Georgia asks at breakfast one morning.

"Sad," Lucy replies sullenly," She can't leave Keira's side for even a minute. I tried to give her a bath yesterday when Kei was on the phone but she just cried the whole time. Her arm's been bothering her too."

Georgia makes a sympathetic noise, head turning to where you and Keira have just walked in.

It's not an uncommon sight now to see you in Keira's arms. You don't want to leave them almost as much as Keira doesn't want you to leave them.

You sniffle a little as Keira sits you in your usual seat between her and Lucy and you stiffly place your casted arm onto the table. What makes it worse, is that it's on your dominant hand so you're struggling a little bit to do everyday things like feeding yourself and drawing.

Lucy loads up your fork and shovels food into your mouth. Your appetite has been affected by your mood so it's always hit and miss how much you're actually going to eat for breakfast so she's hoping to get as much down you as possible before your mood finally catches up with you.

You turn away when you've had enough, pushing your food away and looking over at Keira.

"Bear," Lucy says softly," Don't you want to eat some more? You haven't eaten much."

"No, thank you," You say sullenly, moving to climb into Keira's lap, resting your head on her chest and curling yourself into her body.

Keira sighs as she rises from the table. "I'm going to see if Leah can cheer her up. I'll be back in second."

"Jesus," Georgia says as she and Lucy watch Keira go," You're right. That kid is so depressed. She's had that cast on for at least a week now. You'd think she'd have adapted by now."

"She will," Lucy replies, suddenly feeling defensive," She's getting there. It won't be long now. She's getting better."

"I heard she had to miss her friend's birthday party," Georgia says," Keira said she'd been looking forward to it."

Lucy sighs, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah. It was the day after she broke her arm. Bear was pretty bummed at missing it."

"I can imagine. Being so sad doesn't suit her."

"Hopefully, Leah can snap her out of it."

No matter what Lucy's hoping Leah will do, it doesn't really seem to be working.

Auntie Leah's sitting with Beth from Arsenal and she's trying to get you to detach from Mummy but you refuse.

"Come on, bear!" Auntie Leah laughs," Don't you want to see this cute video I've got?"

You think for a moment. You really want to watch it but you don't want to let go of Mummy at all. Letting go of something was how you got hurt in the first place and Mummy's more sturdier than the climbing frame and you feel safer holding her tight.

She would never drop you.

She's your Mummy bear and you're her baby bear.

She's big and warm and safe and you press yourself further into her like you could melt into her skin and stay there forever.

"How about some chocolate?" Auntie Leah asks," You can hang out in my room with G and I and we can eat chocolate until our tummies hurt."

Normally you would agree with that. You love spending time eating chocolate with Auntie Leah and G but you don't really want to be away from Mummy and Mum. It's bad enough that Mum's across the room from you but you can see her so you know that she's safe.

"We can even watch Brother Bear!"

That nearly breaks you. Brother Bear is your favourite movie ever but Mummy and Mum don't really like screen time so you only get to watch it if you've been very good.

But, still, you'll give up Brother Bear if it means you can stay with Mummy and Mum.

You shake your head. "Want Mum," You whisper against Mummy's skin.

She sighs, resting her head on yours. "Okay, bear," She says, defeated," Let's get Mum."

When you get to Mum, she's whispering to Georgia, who smiles at you before scampering off to Auntie Leah.

"What are you two planning?" Mummy asks suspiciously as she sits in the seat that used to be yours.

"Nothing bad," Mum says quickly before her hand runs over the back of your head and you turn to look at her," How are you feeling, bear?"

"Itchy." You hold your casted arm out to her.

Mum's gotten good at scratching your cast itches.

"Itchy?" She echoes," Well, we can't have that!" She takes a small wooden spoon out of her pocket and starts tapping at the cast. The doctors told her that she's not allowed to let you put stuff down it in case it causes infections so hopefully the vibrations will knock out your itchiness.

It does for the most part and you flop your head back against Mummy when Mum is done.

"Thank you, Mum," You say.

"Of course, bear."

Lucy watches as G and Leah wander out of the room and awaits the text she knows is coming.

You get a bit restless doing nothing and Keira gently runs her hand through your hair to settle you against her again.

"Come on," Lucy says when she finally gets the text," We've got a little surprise, bear."

Your brow furrows in confusion but you don't put up a fight as you're taken back up to the bedrooms. You bypass Mummy and Mum's room in favour of going to Auntie Leah and G's.

Both of them are waiting for you.

Their beds have been pushed together to create a mega bed and their sheets have been made into a little nest with space for all five of you to curl up in.

There's bags of your favourite snacks and your favourite chocolate milk. The title screen of Brother Bear is paused.

You sniffle.

"Oh, no!" G says," Don't cry!"

"These are happy tears," Mum says, wiping them from your cheeks," Isn't that right, bear?"

You nod. "Happy tears."

"Are you ready, bear?" Mummy asks," We're going to have nice chill day with G and Auntie Leah."

"Ready."

[boosnotes]

Dude, I fucked up

Sonic T. Hedgehog x reader (platonic) & Shadow T. Hedgehog x reader (romantic)

Warning: none

Genre: eeeh... comedy? cause its not funny and absurd enough to be a crack fic

A/n: im not totally in love with this work, but i hate throwing them away

"I think I like Shadow." You blurted out suddenly, Sonic slowly turned his head around and gave you a very concerned look. You two were hanging out, watching a shitty movie, one of those that are so bad they're good. This was something you had to get out of your chest, to try at least to check if it's actually real and not your brain confusing love for having someone just treating you decently.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" His tone showed genuine worry, he hadn't moved a bit, his body was in shock, but his face wasn't, and his hand was still in the air right about to eat a chip.

"I don't know…" You now hang your head low, trying to make sense of your life choices, this one by far was one of your more questionable ones, which isn't a lot if you think about it, don't think about it, you're already dealing with something too serious for your heart. The blue hedgehog slowly nodded, his body relaxing a little, seeing his shoulder slack down and his hand retrieved back to the chip bowl.

"Ok… What do you like about him?" He tapped around the topic, he deserved some kind of explanation after that bomb of a statement. There was a part of him that wanted to support you, but it seemed that you didn't even support yourself. Shadow was a complicated person in general, even to befriend, he had a lot of first-hand experience in that.

"Ummm… His personality?" That came out way more in a questioning way than a statement, did you seriously like this guy? He is attractive indeed, but that's just an objective fact, not much of an opinion, but is he enough to make you like him in that way? I mean, sure, you had dreamt of him way too many times, but that's normal, totally platonic, you never kissed him in those dreams, ok, you did fuck that one time, but it doesn't even count.

"Which one? Depressed emotionally unavailable guy?" Your statements did not stop surprising him, it felt like he was chained to the ocean and tortured by feeling the waves hit him with brute force.

"Yeah, I guess…" He is sweet in his way, he just has a hard time expressing his emotions. And it's really interesting when he has those moments of talking, he knows a lot about the things he loves. He also gifts you useful things, like vitamins and a spare gun, and he takes the time to teach you how to use it correctly.

"Dude…" You stayed in an awkward silence, him staring at you as if you grew a head out of your toe. He was a hopeful guy, but maybe you weren't part of that hope. He doesn't even know if Shadow even considers him his friend, he will break your heart.

"What? I think I do, like really do. Should I confess?" You gave him a tight-set smile, clearly uncomfortable and scared of that idea. He was unpredictable, and you didn't want him to hate you or be disgusted by you, you are well aware feelings are not his forte, but you don't want to lie to him either, you don't know if you can now that you're aware of this. Sonic's eyebrows dropped and shook his head, no, it was a bad idea.

"I can be your wingman-"

"No." You cut him off, if confessing was bad, having him put you together was ten times worse. You were doomed, you fucked up, you did the only thing you were not supposed to. The moment he saw you panicking internally, he grabbed your shoulder and made you look at him.

"Stop, you're going to be the cutest couple ever, I will make that happen, even if it costs my life." His eyes were determined, they had that characteristic fire he had when battling, it made you calm down, and he always got his way, for better or worse. You gently nodded your head, making the executive decision to put your future love life in his hand. Maybe it was another of your questionable decisions, but you didn't want to deal with that.

Either way, if this goes bad, you can always blame it on Sonic being Sonic

[bringmeanangel]

Here When You Feel Nothing

Pairing: Spencer Reid and female reader

Tags/warning: Brief mention of masturbation (f), unable to let go. frustration. embarrassed mentions of depression. self-doubt, slight voyeurism but not really. negative self talk. Caring Spencer. Comfort. Praising. Pet names. Depression. Depressed reader. Mentions of self harm (hitting not cutting.) mentions past sexual assaults. I think that's all.

Synopsis: You've been feeling down lately and thought you would have a little "you" time. When nothing happens, you are frustrated with yourself and embarrassed when you realize Spencer saw.

A/n: Read the tags! Lots of things mentioned.

MINORS DNI

You knew Spencer wouldn't be home for another hour or two, so you thought you'd take the the opportunity to have a little "You" time. You hadn't been feeling well mentally recently and you had gotten your period on top of that.

You also didn't want to be a bother to Spencer, even thought he is the sweetest person in the world and does not mind when you need a little extra care.

You made your way to your shared room and closed the door. For some reason you felt like you were doing something bad. Even though this was perfectly normal.

You stripped to your underwear, leaving your shirt and grabbed your vibrator you kept by your bed. You folded up a towel and placed it down, always careful of the sheets and got under the covers.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to do this, you wanted to feel normal again. You hated feeling this way. You closed your eyes and started to think about your boyfriend.

Turning on the vibrator, thought about the way his hands are. Big. Long fingers. You let your minder wander and you started to tease yourself with the vibrator over your underwear.

It was working fora bit, but then your thoughts got all muddled. Trying your best to bring yourself back, you slightly gasped when the toy hit the right spot. Your legs started to shake, your head feeling fuzzy and then....

Nothing.

Nothing happened. It went away. You sighed, trying again. Sometimes that happened.

Again, you tried. You tried to focus on anything other than what just happened. Anything other than your mind feeling like it's about to short circuit and feel heavy. You wanted the release. You needed it.

Nothing.

Frustrated with yourself you turned the vibrator off and placed it down. Before you knew it your were crying. You rolled over onto your side away from the door when you heard a gentle.

"Angel"

The footsteps where light and suddenly Spencer was crouching down in front of you. A hand reached out and stroked your hair. You sniffled, burying your face agaisnt the bed pillow.

Had he been watching you try to masturbate? Suddenly the bed dipped beside you and Spencer had moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

He rubbed your back with one hand and wrapped his other hand around your hand. The two of you sat in silence for a bit.

"I still have to pee and change out of these clothes, even though I didn't-" you started and trailed off.

"Good girl" he whispered. It wasn't patronizing or anything. "Would you like my help?" he went back to stroking your hair.

"No" you whispered, shaking your head.

Spencer moved to let you up. You made your way to the bathroom.

While you got got yourself cleaned up, Spencer started to clean the room. Wiping the toy and putting it away. He put the towel in the hamper and grabbed you a fresh pair of underwear, your sweatpants and his t-shirt you liked so much.

When you came back in, you looked down, too embarrassed with yourself. You put your dirty underwear in the hamper, now standing in front of your boyfriend in only a t-shirt.

Fresh tears made their way down your cheek. You didn't move to wipe them. You just stood there, almost frozen on the spot.

Spencer made his way to you. He noted the way you tensed and figured you didn't want to be touched.

"How does your head feel?" he asked.

"I-uh- not really foggy, sort of like it's short circuiting... if that makes sense." he nodded.

"It does and it's perfectly normal."

You nodded, still unable to move. You were still looking down, but watched as his feet moved away from you.

"Angel?" His voice cut through the daze and you looked up "Did you hear me?" And you shook your head. "That's okay. I told you that I'm going to wipe you again with the baby wipe."

"Okay." You whispered. "Thank you" it was almost inaudible, but Spencer heard it.

"Come here, love."

You made your way to the bed, seeing that he cleaned up for you. You were feeling even more guilty even though there was nothing to feel bad for.

You laid down on the bed bending your legs and spreading them. Spencer grabbed a darker blue glove and pulled one on his right hand. He took the wipes and placed a tender hand on your inner knee, pushing your legs a little wider.

Spencer noticed that you started to relax when he touched you.

His touch with his left hand was warm and grounding. You Turned your head away, still feeling ashamed.

"It's going to be a bit cold." He looked so softly at you.

When you nodded, Spencer inched a little closer and reached out and wiping you. You sucked in a breath when the cold wipe touched you.

Spencer was thorough, but quick. When he was done, he took the glove off and threw it and the wipe in the trash

"You're doing so well for me. I'm going to put your underwear on."

"M'sorry" you mumbled.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Spencer grabbed your underwear. He helped you in them "bum up" he soothed.

You lifted your bum up and he slipped the underwear over your bum. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He rubbed a hand up and down your back. You started crying again and he held you tight, gently shushing you and whispering "I've got you" "good girl" "You're safe"

Spencer kissed your temple when you started to calm down. He carefully pulled you up and kissed your forehead.

"I'm going to put you in leggings and a sweatshirt." He said. "Then after we're going to talk."

You clung a little tighter to him and he rubbed your back a few more times and then you let go.

Spencer cupped your cheeks, stroking your temples with his thumbs. He kissed your forehead and grabbed the clothes he had laid out for you when you were in the bathroom.

Once he got you dressed, Spencer carried you out to the living room for a change of scene. He placed you on the couch and sat beside you.

You sat with your knees to your chest. Arms wrapped around your legs, head resting against the cushion, but not looking at him.

"I just wanted to have some "me" time. I've been feeling depressed for a while and- I just... But then I couldn't. Then you walked in. I'm so stupid. I should be able to let go."

"You're not stupid."

"Why am I like this?! I hate it." you shouted, raising your arms.

Spencer was quick to grab your wrists holding them tight, so you couldn't harm yourself. His grip was firm, you struggled for a moment and relaxed.

"I have you." He said, his voice steady.

You rested your head on your knees. Feeling calmer with his touch. Spencer noted that you were doing the breathing exercises that he taught you.

"Anorgasmia. You can still have a desire for sex and feel pleasure. However you may feel anguish or emotional distress because you can't have an orgasm. There are many factors that can make reaching an orgasm difficult. It can be physical, mental emotional or medical."

"Are you saying I have a sexual dysfunction?" You mumbled.

Still not looking at him, but Spencer was relieved to hear the light, joking tone in your voice. He held both your wrists with one hand and lightly scratched your scalp with the other.

"I'm saying, one of the causes is psychological. Depression, stress, anxiety." Spencer paused before speaking again "or previous sexual assault."

You closed your eyes, tensing, tears silently falling again.

It had been six years since it happened. Three years since you and Spencer started dating. He was so gentle and extremely patient with you. Still is after all these years.

You don't know why this year hit you hard. The anniversary was a month ago, but you still haven't been able to really pull yourself out of this state.

Things were going well for you otherwise. You were busy which was good.

"This isn't permanent. I know you. There's been a lot going on, things you don't talk to me about, but I see them."

You finally look up at him. His heart breaks looking at you. He cups your cheek with one hand and you lean into his touch.

"Are you mad?" You whisper, looking exhausted and dejected.

"I'm not mad, love. I know you have a hard time talking about certain things. I just want you to know that I love you and I'm here to listen."

"Sometimes I feel nothing and it scares me. I'm too embarrassed to say anything."

"I would never judge."

"I know. Then I feel guilty for not telling you"

"Do you feel nothing now? Empty inside?" You nod as you wipe your tears.

"My head still feels like it's short circuiting"

"Let's head to the kitchen. I'll make you hot water with lemon and honey. I'll get you some orange slices, walnuts and a few pieces of dark chocolate."

"Can we eat them in bed?" You asked and he shook his head.

"We're going to have them in the kitchen. The lights are a bit brighter and you can sit at the island and eat while I make your drink."

"Then the bedroom?"

"Yes, Angel. Then the bedroom. I'll hold you all night."

[shaibonbon]

Well tell us about the graduation then

Sure! As the names implies, it's when Bonbon graduates from school, and she gets sad. See how sad she is in the drawing, what's the mystery? :0

Ok jokes aside, big lore dump warning bellow (if you haven't read the previous post, I highly recommend it):

Graduating school (or for Americans I guess it's highschool). It's the end of a chapter of your life and a beginning of a new one. It isn't any different for Bonbon, but considering I already said it's the final piece of how we got nowadays Bonbon...

There are a few things you need to keep in mind to understand Bonbon situation. First, you may recall Bonbon is almost friendless, having just 1 friend, Cinnamon. Bonbon literally maintained friendship with just 1 person all the way up graduation, she is logically heavily depended on that friendship. So much so the moment they got distant for a period, bonbon went into downhill spiral. Graduation means you stop seeing your classmates (by extension friends) daily, slowly and steady you start talking less too. You probably see where I'm going with this. It is a ticking time bomb before the course of life separates them..

The second thing you need to know, is related to how Bonbon graduated. Sure, she finished school and did the final exams, but didn't end up with the best grades, especially on that "easy year", where everyone else managed to get better grades than normal. See, the bomb now explodes. Bonbon ends up to failing to enter any university. Needless to say, this was emotionally devastating for her. And while she had a easier time coping by distracting herself, she was far from okay mentally.

What happens is, Bonbon would spend the next year in a special school to improve some of her grades, so she could try and enter university again. Yes, a new school even further away. The bonus, the classes were at night! Lovely arriving home at 23:30. Who needs a good sleep schedule when you can sleep all morning am right? More time to lazy around. Cinnamon on the other hand entered uni in another city, so far away she had to move there due to atrocious travel times. There was now a curious problem, both were super far apart and on different schedules of free time. Talking with one another suddenly became super hard, and they ended up talking only on weekends. Cinamon adapted the same way as before, by just talking with her other friends. Bonbon on the other hand, for what should be no surprise, made 0 attempts to make friends on the new school, never speaking to anybody unless she was spoken to. There was only 1 time someone tried to befriend her by introducing themselves, bonbon ended up forgetting their names and face 10 minutes later. Interpret that however you want.

As time passes, those weekends talks delude to just few monthly talks, as Cinnamon would extend the time with the friends on weekends too. For her it wasn't a matter of choosing, she just invites bonbon to the conversations with her group of friends. Sadly, it just made the bunny feel worse. Put yourself in her perspective, being in a group of people you don't get along, where everyone is in university talking about their successful life's are, while you are at the button, hits hard doesn't it? Well, it made her feel like a failure. I'm unsure if I made it obvious, but ever since Bonbon fails to enter university, she just gets slowly worse and worse across that year. An extremely bad sleep schedule for a year makes anyone way grumpier, add in a heavy dose of sarcasm for a bad mood to handle others into the mix, she feels constantly demotivated to study or try things, is extremely lazy, horrible low self-esteem... I could go on but the word 'depressed' probably describes it all symptoms well. Also, from this point forward, you will rarely see her smile. The result by the end up the year is nowadays Bonbon. She is technically at her worse during the year, she does improve a bit afterwards.

Welp, thats it! Graduation is probably the most WIP chapter, there are parts here that need more detailing or changes. But the general core idea is that Bonbon fails to enter university and she basically loses her best friend. I haven't mentioned, but they both never see each other again. (at least, for the part of the lore I have layed out)

[deathofacupid]

game (headcanon) | clay jensen

a/n: something. i had to post something. (i'm halfway through season three, any requests can only be made in the timeline of season one + two + three! please, no spoilers! (i'll cry.) i wanted to write something, literally anything, to get the creative wheels turning. this is kind of just a starting point for me. italics - clay; normal - ...anyone that isn't clay.

summary: how you and clay became you and clay.

warnings: mostly fluff, some depressive/suic!d@l thoughts (nature of clay), it's 13rw... let's face it, the show tackles some dark stuff.

pairing: fem!reader x clay jensen

word count: 0.79k+ words

-after hannah, clay wasn't great at putting himself out there, especially when it came to girls.

-the biggest thing he'd be worried about was girls. once hannah passed, the main reason he was having trouble was because he was trying to find another hannah.

-clay couldn't help but compare everyone to her.

-it was funny though, because the second he saw you, it was like; who's hannah? the world of "before hannah" and "after hannah" was gone.

-in that moment, when you'd first locked eyes, anything revolving the mere thought of hannah disappeared. he didn't have to think about her, and as selfish as it feels to him, it was refreshing. relieving.

-and you know what? he loved that feeling. he loved the feeling of cloud nine.

-sure, plently of times he'd considered asked you out. and then the thought would hit him like a brick; he's never even said a word to you. how's he going to ask you anything at all, if he can't even utter yet a simple "hi" to you?

-trust me, he tries. clay tries a whole lot. but he'll be inches away, and freeze up.

-part of him is afraid to love again, because what if everything ends up like hannah? like one big repeat? he's not sure if he can live through that again. it was hard enough the first time around.

-eventually, he gives up, choosing to admire you from afar.

-it's luck for him, however, when you're the one to break the ice.

-he remembers it clearly, how you lean over during english lit.

-"clay? do you have any idea what we're doing. because... yeah, i wasn't listening." / "huh? what? oh, uh, yeah- yeah, it's chapters 12-15, questions 1-10."

-he's panicking. you're talking to him.

the second time, you're complaining about your math grade to a friend. he's not even thinking when he blurts out:

-"i can help you. like, tutor you or whatever. i'm pretty good at it." / "wait, really? like, for real?" / "sure."

-clay's non-chalant on the outside, not so much on the inside.

-you seem happy, and instantly, he is too.

-the first thing he does is head into his room, kicking justin out.

-"yeah, okay, well, the adoption papers strongly disagree." / "please? y/n's coming over! i need this to go well." / "y/n? no shit?" / "no shit."

-justin gives in, he's clay's number hypeman anyways. justin lingers in the main house, and then finally wanders to find jessica. that's not clay's concern right now, though.

-it's his room. or more specifically, his shared room. he's freaking out, he hasn't been this nervous since the trial, as he shoves all - i mean all - of justin's crap into the closet, then cleaning up his own.

-he hesisitates over his akr comics, before shoving them in a drawer.

-clay showers, it won't hurt, and spritzes on some of justin's more... masculine colongne.

-half an hour later, there's a knock at the door. he's giddy as he answers it, yet nervous as well.

-"nice house-shed." / "thanks."

-he hopes it a compliment. you're nodding in approval, taking in his room. (shared room.) the little trinkets and trophies.

-and the one akr comic he left out.

-"oh, you read these?" / "y-yeah. i mean, yes. i do. wait- do you?" / no, but my little brother does."

-it's incredible how the conversation flows so smoothly after that.

-after a while, you and him got close. suddenly, it wasn't just study/tutoring sessions, it was hangouts at your place and his.

-everyone thought the two of you were dating, starting with justin.

-he would just be talking to his brother, and it would slip in.

-"how's it going between you and y/n?" / "what's going?" / "dude, you still haven't said anything?" / "there's nothing to say."

-or between his parents:

-"clay, honey, how's your girlfriend? you should bring her over for dinner!" / "we aren't dating, mom." / "really?"

-and more frequently, at school. everyone just assumed you and him were together, and at some point, you stopped correcting them.

-"hey, man, your girlfriend left her jacket in class." / "i'll give it to her."

-somewhere along the line, the difference between dating and not-dating blurred, to the point where you weren't even sure what was going on.

-"hi, not-boyfriend." / "hey, not-girlfriend."

-^became a regular occurence.

-"should we just date? y-you know, because everyone thinks we are... so... it's like-" / "sure." / "okay. wait, really?" / "yeah, why not? i'm suprised it took you this long. i'm literally always flirting with you." / "oh."

-like i said, clay isn't always the best with girls. it doesn't matter though, because you have enough game for the both of them.

[diana-bluewolf]

For @lil-grem-draws ↓↓↓

Chris and Misha sat on a carpet of fallen leaves at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was a perfect autumn day, warm and sunny. Chris’s mood wasn’t so bright, though. He looked down to a piece of parchment in his hands, then leaned back on Misha.

“Today is Elland’s birthday,” he said gloomily.

Misha perked up his ears. 

“What’s a birthday? To be honest, I don’t fully understand it, but it’s the day when a person was born. Humans often celebrate it. Some kind of tradition, people love those meaningless things.”

Misha yawned.

"Exactly! Anyway, they give that person presents. Don't ask why - I don't know. Maybe so that they don't feel depressed about being a year closer to death," Chris shrugged and looked at the parchment again. 

"I hope he never knows how many attempts it took me, but I sketched something. I don't even know what for; he doesn't look like the kind of person who enjoys staring at themselves," Chris paused, absentmindedly scratching behind Misha's ear, his gaze fixed on the dance of shadows cast by the leaves on the ground.

Then he suddenly flipped the parchment over and scribbled something on the back. "There, I fixed it. But there's another problem I can't solve."

He wrinkled his nose.

“The last time we talked… I think I might have offended him. You see, he had always been so,” Chris waved his hand as if shooing away an annoying fly, “kind. So generous and always ready to help. Of course, I thought he needed something from me. So I finally asked him about it directly.”

Misha rested his head on his paws and didn’t look intrigued.

“All normal people would have already told me what’s the deal, but he…Well, I know, it’s stupid, but what if he…What if there was really nothing hidden behind his kindness? What if he is just like that? Just recently, I thought unicorns were a fairytale, so what if he is, you know, a unicorn?” 

Misha snorted.

"Look, I know it's hard to believe, but I have no more theories left; he's just that weird," Chris tiredly rubbed his forehead. "There's that new book about that clever bloke in a hat. He said, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." 

They kept silent for a while, listening to the forest’s soothing sounds. 

"He once met me drunk at Hogsmeade," Chris finally continued. "Don't look at me like this! I had never tried alcohol before, and I had no idea that even a small amount of it would impact me that much, alright? Still can't forgive myself for being that vulnerable in public. Anyway, my point is, even though I don't remember much, he looked…worried? Besides, wouldn't you try to use this opportunity to your advantage if you need something from someone?” 

Misha sneezed.

"Yes! I would for sure, too! But he didn't."

Chris held the parchment out in front of Misha's nose. 

“So what do you think? Should I give it to him?” 

Misha looked at the parchment, tilting his head as if pondering about a wise response to the situation, and then slapped his paw on it, leaving a big dirty footprint. 

“Oh, thank you very much,” Chris mumbled sarcastically, pulling the parchment out from under the paw, “I guess it’s a no since it's spoiled anyway. Fine, that makes things easier.” He sighed, crumpled the parchment and carelessly shoved it into his pocket. 

They had sat in silence for several minutes before Chris attempted to stand up, but Misha hastily grabbed the boy’s sleeve with his teeth. 

"Sorry buddy, I don't want to come back, too,” Chris gently petted Misha's ear, smiling guiltily, “but people think I'm one of them, so I have to follow their rules and school schedule. Well, sometimes. I'll visit you as soon as I can, deal?"

***

Elland was sitting in the Great Hall during dinner when a crumpled piece of parchment hit the back of his head. He looked around, but there weren't any signs of someone who could throw it.

[argentnoelle]

finished watching the severance outie cut! It actually held together far more than I thought it would, seeing as you never get answers to the whole plot—but that's not really what this version is about. It's about Mark starting out in this place of apathy and grief and depression and slowly coming to ask questions about what he's doing with his life and facing the stuff he's been trying to hide away all this time. And it ends up feeling far more complete and hopeful of a story than the original cut I think.

Because the taping together Gemma's picture is no longer a twist, it hits far more emotionally/sweetly too—in the original, there's definite plot reasons for not having seen her face until the reveal. In this cut, instead it feels very symbolic. Like, Mark's been saying he's dealing with his grief but he's not, he's hiding it away—in himself when he goes to work, in how he can't face it—the imagery of Petey's phone that he hides away in the box, just like all of Gemma's stuff is packed away in his basement, but the phone keeps calling him (another far more obvious parallel there too with Mrs. Selvig's weird basement)—the way Mark's feeling of responsibility for Petey's death ends up bringing him into an active role in the story of trying to begin to ask questions—and it culminates in him ripping up that picture of Gemma, and then suddenly realizing that's not what he wants to do, and taping it back together, and then you see her face and he sees her face for the first time in the show, it's like that amorphous grief he's running from which was so overpowering it even covered the memory of her has suddenly been pulled aside enough for him to remember the details, who she was as a person, and the love he had for her. And so after that when he decides to quit Lumon, as a character arc, it felt really complete. Like, that's the central plot of this section.

Plus I just liked how much focus this cut put on the Mark & Devon interactions (Devon is one of my favorite characters) and the slightly different view you got on the Mark & Mrs. Selvig (her loneliness and her obsession with Mark on a far more personal level), and even how much Eleanor's birth becomes a part of the plot? And how symbolically it's just part of how things start opening up. Like, the first half of the cut was slow and boring and excruciatingly sad, and then to see Mark start to live again in small ways felt so incredible in a way that it just doesn't come through in the original cut. The relationship between him and Alexa was also much cuter in this cut as well, since there wasn't so much overshadowing it. And the scene in the alley where they watch June's band also felt like such a breath of fresh air, partially because it's like the first time Mark has actually decided to do something, just because he wants to, instead of just being dragged through life. It felt really vibrant and beautiful.

I also loved the conceit of having a completely normal story set in a wacky sci-fi setting where the sci-fi stuff is only vaguely alluded to and never actually touched on. It's like "we live in evil-company-that-splits-people's-brains universe! here's a story about a man coming to terms with his grief after the loss of his wife."

[boo8008]

Three Months - Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader Chapter 02: Mince

Prologue | Chapter 01: Quadriller | Chapter 02: Mince

Series Summery: Its been one year since The Bear's soft open, and with everything running smoothly, Carmen's lost in his thoughts, until the final table of the night is seated.

Warnings: angst | fluff | ghosting mention | mentions of suicide | language | mental health | pining | unrequited love????? | substances (alc & weed) | yelling | grief | descriptions of panic attacks | eventual smut | mention of covid | self doubt | no proofreading just sleep deprivation & back pain running this show | awkwardness & cringe of a new friendship/relationship/situationship

Chapter Summery: After the minor introduction of you and Carmy, your about to prepare the first dinner post Covid and before Stevie and Michelle leave, one Carmen is also coming to. Only cooking dinner is not going as smoothly as you'd hoped.

Mince (v.) - to finely divide food into uniform pieces smaller than diced or chopped foods, prepared using a chef's knife or food processor

Word Count: ~3,865

My Notes bb: Hey….. How yall doin? Sorry this took so long to get out, work and life suddenly got busy and I didn't have time to write. I hurt my back though so it kinda forced me to write and crank this out. Hopefully its not as bad I as I still feel like it is but yea. Again sorry this took so long to get out. Hope you enjoy! (ps my therapist thinks this is a decent outlet though lol thanks Sandra)

2021 (December)

Carmen hardly ever came to dinner after those first few weeks, and Michelle said something about him working at Eleven Madison Park. While you were happy he head ended up at the high end restaurant, you knew he was working under one hell of an asshole. He seemed to be doing fine enough though. Granted, you would only catch small glimpses of him on nights when you stayed later than intended and he walked only into his room to sleep, with just a small mumbled ‘hi’ thrown your way. Eventually he managed to move out on his own and only came to dinner about once every two months when Michelle would insist on it.

Once covid hit though, you'd basically lost contact with him. Michelle even rarely managed to drag him into group facetime calls with you. They were mainly her or Stevie recounting their last two weeks of quarantine in a dramatic fashion and you and Carmen would be  listening half heartedly. If Carmen was there, he seemed to just sit out on a fire escape in his building and smoke, thinking about other things. Everytime you picked up though, missing being around the two people you actually liked. You would use it as a little reprieve from writing yet another ‘easy recipes for quarantine’ article, or to have company while you organized and re-organised random spots throughout your apartment. 

Mostly though you would use it to get away from the depressive thoughts of ‘what am I doing with my life?’ or ‘if something happened to me, only Michelle and Stevie would really know.’ you didn't realize how much you missed being around people until you couldn't anymore, just stuck with yourself and your cat in your apartment. You missed the mindless chatter from coworkers at your office and in person interviews with cranky chefs because they gave you more to think about than yourself. All you began to think about was how bad the piece you were working on was, even if your editor said it was great. You felt tired and tired of being tired. All you wanted was to have a nice dinner with Stevie and Michelle, and fuck even hearing from Carmen would be amazing even if it was another awkward conversation with someone you just barely knew.

In short covid sucked ass and made your already anxious brain even worse. Not to mentioned your sense of time became fucked and all of your normally scheduled daily things also hard to keep track of. While quarantine had somewhat ended, you all found yourselves too busy trying to get back into the groove of ‘normalcy’ and offices to have dinner again, canceling for meetings or being too tired. Leading to today, when after months of planning and rescheduling you had completely forgotten that dinner was not only being held at you place, but you were also cooking because Michelle and Stevie had nothing in their kitchen because they were leaving two weeks early to isolate before Christmas in Chicago, and to top it all off, Carmen was (for once) coming to dinner. You remembered only when Stevie sent you a text asking what time worked best to come over, and not wanting to cancel for the tenth time, you told them 7:00. So you left work early to run for the subway, then run to the grocers to get real food, and then ran home to start cooking. 

Only cooking was not going as planned. 

It was 6:30 and dinner was nowhere near done. It was like you had forgotten everything you knew about actually cooking, and you’re a food journalist for Christ's sake! This should have been something you could do fairly easy! You write about things like this all the time! Yet here you are, chicken suddenly burning in the oven from when you stepped away to check your recipe to make sure everything was going okay and you that were good to start the pasta. You quickly removed the now pucks from the oven and turned it off. You resolved to just sitting on the floor across from your oven and crying, thinking about where it all went wrong-not the dinner but everything. Quiet sobs racked your body as you sad down on your kitchen floor, forgetting about your phone and the fact your last text said “doors unlocked when you get here”.

Carmen didn’t want to go to dinner but knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from Michelle if he didn’t show up. And to be frank he wanted her to stop calling him a hermit too. So he grabbed his jacket after lunch service and headed home to shower and change, doing his best to not think of his shitty boss saying he was worthless for taking one evening off. He hadn't done that even during covid, constantly asking what the plan was or if the kitchen was open. He decided to head out early to your place sending a quick text and leaving. As he approached your door he could definitely smell burning, very unlike the pre-covid dinners you made. While not Michelin level, what you made were perfect home cooked and leftover meals to him. A nice change from his go to PB&Js with Doritos and a Coke. He checked his phone again making sure the apartment number was right and reread your last text again. He still knocked on the door before he opened it, out of habit. 

“Yo its me,” Carmen called out, peeling off his jacket as he looked around the entryway of your small apartment. You jumped at the knock and stood up as the door opened, and as Carmen called out, you turned to face the sink in your kitchen.

“In here!” your voice was wobbly but you preyed he wouldn't notice. Carmen followed the sound and walked into the kitchen, seeing the blackened chicken on the stove and the mess of the rest of the kitchen. 

“Jesus, the fuck did you try to cook?” he said it without thinking, and immediately you broke again. Crumbling in on yourself and to tired to try and hide it. Tears raining down your face and carmen short circuited, watching as you again sunk to the floor in a puddle. 

“Shit fuck I-I’m sorry. Fuck! Wh-what can I do? What do you want me to do? Fuck sorry I-I’m bad at this.” he panics as he looks down at you crying. “Wh-want me to go? I-I can go- I should go. Shit, Sorry again.” 

“S-s-stay?” 

“What?” Carmen's pretty sure he heard wrong, after all he just caused you to meltdown from his social awkwardness. 

“S-stay?” you say more clearly. You don't know why you ask it, let alone how it crawls out of your crying, shaking self. Its been so long sense you've been near someone else even a little close to you so maybe that's it. He stops for a minute looking down at you as you look up at him still crying. “Please?”

“... O-okay.” 

He isn't sure why he stays, or why he sits down next to you while you cry, but he does. The apartment is quiet outside of you sniffles and the occasional sob but carmen stays put. Neither of you realize how much you've started leaning towards each other until your head  is lightly lying on his shoulder. You’ve mostly stopped crying now but your face is still wet and your eyes are puffy. 

He isn't sure what to say, with his mom asking if you were okay was off limits. It made everything worse. It lead to screaming and yelling and throwing things. He thinks about what someone normal, someone like Stevie, or Pete, or Natalie, what they would ask someone they hardly know if they saw them having a panic attack and decides to just do it, praying you’d be somewhat normal compared to his mother.

“You-you okay?” you'd almost forgot he was there, even if you were leaning on him, and sat up straighter, wiping your face.

“Yea, I’m-I’m sorry dinners ruined and for getting like that,” you say. Tears of embarrassment springing up at knowing that this (basically) stranger saw you cry. 

“No no your fine-your cool,” he can feel panic rising again at making you cry again. “No no no offense but I-I was kinda in the mood for pizza anyways.” He's only partly lying, he wanted a home cooked meal but the pizza place he passed on his way here smelled greasy and amazing on his empty stomach. 

“Are you sure? I still have the kitchen to clean and I just don't want you all to think that I don't care o-or anything that i-its our last dinner before you guys go back to Chicago for Christmas and I just-” 

“Yea, your fine , its fine if we have pizza, I’ll text Michelle to grab it on their way over, they wont mind.”

“Okay…” you mumble, caving in on the choice of pizza and leaning your head back on the cabinet behind you. Carmens already pulling his phone out of his pocket when he spots the new texts from Stevie and Michelle on his lock screen. 

Stevie: ‘Sorry gang, we dont think we can make it tonight, we still have a lot to pack 😕’

Michelle: ‘Yea I’m sorry i know its so close to dinner but maybe you two can get along without us????’ 

Michelle: ‘Sorry again lovelies xoxo 😘’

Michelle: ‘Dont be a dick carm 💛😘’

“Well fuck,” Carmen mumbled. He was now on his own to make conversation. “Looks like its just us for dinner. ‘Said they still have packing to do.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. Of course the universe would have the only two people you could actually converse with busy on the one night you were meant to see them. 

“Yea…” Carmen wasn't sure how to proceed. Does he leave cause the only bridge between you both isn't showing? Does he stay because he already committed to dinner? God he feels so awkward.

“Well we could still get pizza?” you ask. “I mean you came all this way so it kinda feels like a waste.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, I mean I still gotta clean the kitchen but theres a place around the corner thats amazing after crying,” you say with a bit of a laugh to help bring up the awkward mood.

“Let me help you and we can go?” he suggests, already rising to his feet and offering you a hand.

“Are you sure? I mean the chicken I think is welded on there at this point,” you say. As your taking his hand and he pulls you to stand from your floor, you see his forearms flex and your mind short circuits as you look probably a second longer than you need to at the muscles and veins there. Luckily he doesn't notice because he's already turning and grabbing the now cool baking sheet with the chicken on it. 

“Yea it’ll go faster, I think I can get this off too,”  Carmen quickly took charge of washing the bowls, cutting boards, and other kitchen utensils you had pulled out in your frenzy to cook dinner on time. 

In nearly no time at all the kitchen was clean and the two of you had left for the pizza parlor a block away. While yes the cleaning was a little awkward, the noise of the city on the walk made making any conversation difficult, meaning neither of you had to talk or struggle to make conversation. 

“Pepperoni good?” Carmen asked as the two of you stood awkwardly next to each other, both of your jackets zipped all the way up thanks to the near unbearable cold outside.

“Y-yea, they make bomb garlic knots too if you want some,” you responded, skimming over the menu even though you already knew what the plan was. 

“C-cool, um,” Carmen looked around the small shop, there was just the counter and a cooler for drinks, no seating. The place reminded him of the beef, dingy, and not that healthy, but god damn was this about to be the best food he could ever get. “Did you want to go back to your place? Cause… cause there's no tables and stuff…” Carmen cringed at the awkward way the words came out. 

“Yea if that's good with you?” you said taking a step forward, the two of you would look at each other before looking away, as if the tiled flooring was so interesting. You decided to take a page out of Stevie’s book, he was better with people than you were so you prayed the attempted joke would land. “I mean we could eat out in the cold if your more comfortable?” A smile pressed its way onto Carmen’s face and you considered that a victory. 

“Yea no, I love eating outside when its about to snow,” he snickered. “Reminds me of home.” You both shifted closer as the people in front of you pushed pass you both to leave with their pizzas. As you both stepped up to the counter Carmen was faster than you in not only placing the order, a large peperoni with a side of garlic knots, but also whipping out his wallet and paying, you on the other hand had barely stumbled out a hello and barely started shifting your bag to get out your own wallet by the time he was done.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled as you both stepped off to the side to wait.

“Yea well, its cool I got the money,” Carmen added. You only partly doubted it, he worked at the highest rated restaurant in the world but also lived in New York so it kinda balanced out. You both distracted yourselves for a few minuets looking at your phones, you taking to a word search game and Carmen playing the fun game of ‘who is this and why do I have their number?’ with his contacts. It felt a little more relaxing compared to earlier, more like the same air you both got when Stevie and Michelle would leave the room at your normal dinners, not pressured to talk but liking the fact another person was next to you.

“Order 447!” you and carmen both jumped as the number was yelled through the small shop. Carmen stepped forward and took the box and bag from the worker, turning to you, where you grabbed the bag and began to head out before he got up the words to protest that he's got it. 

Luckily the only awkward part of the walk back to your apartment was the elevator ride up. As you both stepped into your apartment you were both greeted by the loud yelling of your cat as she rounded the corner to yell at you for leaving for a whole 30 minuets.

“Yea yea your fine baby,” you told her as you took the pizza from Carmen. “You good with just sitting on the couch? I don't want to do anymore kitchen cleaning.”

“Heard,” Carmen carmen said as he took off his jacket. He was looking down at the feline weaving between his legs and bent down to let her sniff him so he could pet her, instead she smelt him and abruptly ran back deeper in the apartment and he smiled a little at the cat, following it with his eyes to you coming out of the kitchen with two cans of coke, paper plates, and paper towels. Something in him stirred at the mundane and domestic sight but he waved it off as more anxiety.

“Wait-shit-your not allergic to cats are you?” you asked panicked.

“N-no,” Carmen's voice broke a little as he said it and he cleared his throat. “No… My, um, my mom never let us have one when I was a kid, something about the furniture. I always wanted one though.” Why’d his voice break like that? Why’d he bring up his mom? Fuck now he's gonna have to explain everything.

“Cool-cool,” you were turning to head deeper into the apartment again and Carmen followed, getting a better look at the place now that he wasn't rushing to the kitchen. “That's Mince, cause when I got her she was tiny and I wasn't thinking ahead.” He took in the living room, a nice, small sectional couch with a blanket over the back was against one wall, and a tv with bookcases full of nick-nacks and heavy looking books with holiday lights around it. The center of the room had a buttery carpet and the coffee table with the pizza and garlic knots on it. 

“Make yourself at home,” you added. You’d never felt more aware of your actions than now, as Carmen looked at more of your space with posters and pictures around it and you were just trying to tell yourself to act normal. He took in the dining table with four perfectly mismatched chairs that was tucked into a corner on the other side of the wall from the kitchen. Mince catches his attention from the couch, batting at his hand from her spot on the arm rest. He again goes to pet her only for her to skip off and run to the opposite end where you are. Carmen finally takes a seat on the couch, the two of you as far as you could be. You both dig into the pizza and Carmen can’t help but think about how good it is. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. It definitely compensates for the shitty morning he had and the rollercoaster of emotions he felt around you.

“Right?” you said through a smile. You were turning on the tv and poking around for something to watch. 

“‘S so fucking good,” he said through another bite. “Chicago is still better though.” he mumbled.

“Fuck off,” you finally settled on Bobs Burgers that you left off on. You both ate in a mostly comfortable silence, focusing on the show and avoiding looking at each other. Once you felt you were full you settled back into the couch, and glanced at carmen sitting in your space, he had made himself more comfortable, and he looked nice there, leaned up against the arm of the couch with one arm draped over the back of the couch fiddling with a part of the blanket and his legs spread wide. You shifted your focus back to the television not wanting to make it more weird. 

“So… did you finish packing already?” you settled on conversation to distract you from the thought of crawling into his lap. “For Chicago I mean.”

“Oh um,” Carmen was a little startled by the sudden conversation, but fuck it you already cried in front of him today, it was his turn to share. “N-no I’m just staying here, rather not watch my mom drive the car through a wall and my brother fight my uncle again.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry,” Steve had told you some of what happened that Christmas, mainly summarized as a big blowout of a fight between Michelle’s cousin Mikey and her kinda-uncle Lee, and her aunt Donna driving her car through the living room. God why'd you bring this up? He probably didn't want to talk about it. “Did you have any plans then?” Please let this be a decent change of topic you think.

“Just work, go home, smoke and eat, sleep, just like the last two years,” he says with a sigh. “Wh-What about you?”

“No, I was just gonna stay in and watch some movies.” Carmen answers with an affirming ‘hm’, not wanting to overstep and ask more questions. Even with the both of you wanting to talk more, neither of you know how to go from here. You turn you attention back to the television as Carmen turns his head a little to quietly observe you. 

Curled up in the corner of the couch in a cozy, old, and ratty sweatshirt with some leggings and fuzzy holiday grippy socks, hair down, and face still a little puffy from the winter air and your tears, but still beautiful in the darkening light of your apartment, mundanely so. Not a supermodel ripped from the cover of vogue, or an unobtainable influencer with hair and makeup perfectly placed for pictures. You look like you belong there. You look real. Cozy and warm on your couch with the lights from the streets down below hitting you just so. Home he thinks, before quickly turning his attention back to the tv. Its not like he’d ever have a shot with you anyways, he’s always too busy, or too angry, or too much of an asshole in general. Where’d all of those thoughts even come from? He hardly ever felt at home with anyone, especially outside of the kitchen. 

As the show plays on the two of you get lost in it and enjoying the act of being alone together, occasionally steeling glances at each other. You find yourself kind of liking being with him, not necessarily talking or interacting but the feeling of another person in the same room as you feels nice. Carmen won't say it but he's enjoying himself too. The show and coziness of your apartment make him feel relaxed more than his barren dingy apartment ever could, and the abundance of stuff artfully placed helps give him something to look at and think on rather than get lost in his anxiety and self doubt. Why does she have a Halloween decoration out its December…right? He thinks. Your both trying to think on how to ask for what you want but you beat him too it. Probably because you grew up with Steve and his weird ball of encouragement always on your side.

“Did you want to hang out? On Christmas I mean,” you finally get the courage to ask. Phew, not that bad.

“I mean I-I don't want to intrude,” Carmen starts. “Plus I have work the next day.”

“You could sleepover? If-if you want,” you prepose. “We can still smoke, eat, and sleep if you want. All the traditions you enjoy, a-and I don’t think I’m far from the line you need?” 

You definitely aren't. In fact your apartment is somehow on a faster route to work than his own. The only reason you know is because of the Bake It Nice pop up bakery Eleven Madison Park does once a month that you always try to make time for. Carmen thinks on it for a second, and your sure he's looking for a way to let you down nicely.

“You sure your okay with me leaving at 5:00 in the morning?” he asks. 

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and something in Carmen stirs. “Plus I can pass the fuck out again when you leave anyways.” he smiles at that, still unsure what feeling he's having right now, but he likes it.

“Okay,” he says and you both return you attention back to the show smiling like children. Your legs a little more outstretched towards carmen and his body begging to sink further into your couch. Relaxing to the feeling of you.

[scaly-freaks]

Hiiii!! I fell in love with 'until the colours fade' and the end made me think that maybe Aegon was going to commit su*cide? it felt open ended too as if maybe he could work things out with Jae and they could be the family they both so desperately need. I was so angry with Aegon at first because the neglecting hit close to home, but I ended up feeling sad for both of them in the end. It felt like you meant to keep the mother unnamed but was she Amara? i wanted to guess because of the moodboard and the girl with the dark hair.

If you want to reveal anything about their life when she was still alive I'd really love that!! The idea of Aegon mourning her when he found out she died just made me so sad and I didn't even wannt to imagine it because they always feel so joined in my mind

Aaahhhh thank you so much (and thank you for being so sweet with your request omg)

It is open-ended. It's ultimately up to the reader to decide what happens without any input from me. My irls read the fic today and were dragging Aegon over the coals because they refused to accept that anyone once they've become a parent has any excuse not to raise a perfectly normal, well balanced child, which I didn't agree with, but to each their own. Traumatised children grow up to become parents all the time and don't stop being traumatised. All you can do is your best, even if that counts as bare minimum to someone else. To you, that is your best. Your intentions are there.

Aegon definitely didn't mean to let his intentions slip, but after the mother's death, aka someone he obviously relied on heavily in terms of emotional support, he lost his mind a little bit. His family is busy with their own lives, and are also quite neglectful of him because I imagine he's not the success story amongst the Targ-Hightowers. No one came to his house after the funeral to clean up and make sure there was food in the fridge when he got back. That's how they never realised Jae was still there until a week and a half later. He had the excuse (barely) of numbing himself on alcohol and drugs to avoid facing up to the fact that his wife was gone, hence why he forgot her. He let Jaehaera parent herself which was also wrong, and she became a latch key kid pretty much. If the electric bill isn't paid, the washing machine isn't working, and then who's cleaning her underwear? At eleven, she's probably thinking whatever, it's fine i'll reuse it, it doesn't look dirty because no one's teaching her that stuff (can't even say it's common sense because kids will be kids). She hasn't started her period yet, but I imagine Aegon would be a lot more aware of that this time round and actually buy her the stuff before he drags Helaena in to explain it all LOL.

And yes, 'Momma' was in fact Amara. And yuupppp, pulled my heartstrings to think of Aegon losing her. She was a baby having a baby, and then suddenly she was gone and Jaehaerys went with her.

Their life before she died was happy, I must admit. They both obviously struggled massively with mental illness and addiction and whatnot, but the kids were their pride and joy, something they made between them and would go to the ends of the earth for. Aegon was a good dad before she died, which is the most heartbreaking bit. Glimpses of it come through, for instance the glitter shampoo, buying Jae sweets after they fight, running after the ice cream van, but these are all notably things he did when she was way younger and before Amara died, suggesting he's frozen in time. Jae is growing up, and her Dad is failing to keep up. He's sluggish and trapped in memories he wants to return to. He used to put his all into making sure his kids were happy on the little money they had, and that his wife wasn't sinking into her depression again (Amara went through a couple suicide attempts during her post-partum period). She was terrified she'd go through with it one day and that it would never end even once the kids were older, and Aegon was the one who was like I won't let you, I promise, I'll keep you here even if it's not that simple.

The sad irony is she died and it was completely out of both their hands. She didn't want to leave, but she did. He tells Jaehaera no, baby, you're all me to disguise the fact that she has her mother's eyes and those eyes haven't looked at him the same since Amara died. Obviously Jaehaera's lonely and depressed and struggling to cope, so when she looks at her dad, he sees all those things staring back at him. He sees what Amara used to look like in her worst moments, but he doesn't have half the mental and emotional energy he used to in order to help his daughter. Instead, he drowns and watches her drown with him.

Amara is probably somewhere in the afterlife crying over the pair of them and not enjoying heaven I'm ngl 😭

[jollyhunter]

Hello! I have an idea for a bot and was wondering if you would possibly be interested in making it? I was thinking that the user is from the apocalypse world and when everyone in the apocalypse world comes through the portal to sam and dean’s world, the user is having a really hard time adjusting to the new environment. They’re either rebellious because of struggles adjusting or super sad, or really anything that shows how much they are struggling to adjust through their behaviors. Either way, Dean realizes their struggle and is being patient with them. It doesn’t have to be romantic

Hi dear! First off, sorry for taking this long, everything's been stacking up in my drafts. 🥲

Now; This is such a good prompt!! I hope you'll enjoy what I made of it and do let me know what you think <3

J/NOTE: Not gonna lie, since I haven't watched season 12 yet, writing the stories and background info for this felt like walking on a tightrope LOL (Beneath me a ball pit of spoilers and devastation). I just read the descriptions about the Apocalypse World to get a better idea of what's going on and then bolted, before I could get any more spoiled. 😂 But I always enjoy the challenge to fit a story prompt into - *glares at c.ai* - 2048 characters.

AIGHT here we go:

I LOVE Apocalypse Worlds and I couldn't decide for just one theme (and I’ve got a thing for angst), soooo I went and wrote two different intros and ended up with two bots;

Broken Spirit focuses on the user feeling out of place, sorrow, beginning of potential depression and Dean trying to save them from spiraling into the same kind of emotional void that he secretly feels.

Scorched Soul focuses on the user being unpredictably hostile due to severe PTSD, trauma and their survival instincts kicking in and Dean struggling to reintegrate them into a 'normal' life, while he's secretly terrified that they'll end up like him.

↓ INTROS ↓

-> 💔 Broken Spirit Dean x ApocalypseWorld!User [gen!neutral]

Themes: Feeling out of place / Sadness / Trauma, Angst, Comfort, Platonic

⚝ INTRO

The fact that you'd just disappeared, doesn't sit right with Dean.

It's not the first time since you'd fled from the Apocalypse World and were taken in by the boys that you'd just vanished. Sometimes you'd just sneak off, or lock yourself for hours into the bedroom they gave you.

But this time it's been two goddamn days.

They took the entire bunker apart, afraid you might have gotten yourself locked up somewhere. Or worse. They called every motel, checked the bars, sent Cas on a rescue mission to find you and Sam even listened to the police radio 24/7 just in case.

Nothing. It's like the ground just swallowed you whole. Like you didn't want to be found. And that's what made Dean's stomach twist in knots. He grabs the car keys and tells Sam to check the hospitals while he'll search the surrounding area again.

He speeds down the road, his jaw clenched, focus bouncing back and forth between all sorts of What if's - What if you did something stupid?

Sure, he didn't know you for that long yet, but he could see the signs. How you struggled with this world. How it ate you up from the inside. And how you'd been silent a lot and crying when you thought they didn't notice.

They did. More often than you'd think. Sam wanted to talk to you but you'd evaded him every time and he wanted to give you some time and space. Dean on the other hand watched you crumble in silence from the sidelines. Seeing you drown right in front of him and not being able to help you, gnawed at his insides. Because he knows what it feels like when you've been through hell. And he knows all too well what it does to your soul. Broken, shredded, poisoned beyond recognition.

Dean suddenly hits the brakes and Baby skids to a halt; he could swear he'd just seen something between the trees.

And sure enough, there you sit. Slumped against a trunk, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried between them.

"There you are." He snaps, his frustration taking over now, "Why the hell did you run off? Sam and I've been lookin' everywhere for you!"

-> 🔥 Scorched Soul Dean x ApocalypseWorld!User [gen!neutral]

Themes: PTSD / Hostility / Trauma, Angst, Comfort, Platonic

⚝ INTRO

Dean rounds a grocery shelf while his gaze keeps flickering back to you. Ever since you and the others fled the Apocalypse world and came through that portal a few days ago, he hasn't let you out of his sight.

“Why don't you get us some salt?” He calls out to you. Even though he's not exactly the best at this whole thing called ‘normal’ life, he tries nonetheless.

His attention jumps back to you as he notices a quick movement of your hand behind your back. “Goddamnit- Whoa- whoa-” He grabs your wrist just before you can get the hidden knife out from under your jacket.

"There's no need for that, sweetheart." He says with a fake smile aimed at the woman in front of you. She shoots you both a questioning look, then picks the packet of salt and drops it into her shopper trolley.

You stare at her daggers, she flinches.

"She's just… hangry," Dean forces a chuckle, trying to keep his cool under her pointed gaze. "C'mon, let's get you a Snickers." Once you've been shoved behind the shelf, Dean grabs both your shoulders and spins you around to face him. “What the hell was that?”

You’re about to open your mouth to point out that that was the last packet of salt - but Dean already knew that.

“I don’t need the damn salt. What I need, is you to act like a normal human being for five goddamn minutes without going Daryl Dixon on me.” He says in a low, tight voice, like a mom hissing at her child. But when you twitch and avert your eyes like a beaten dog, his hands slip off your shoulders.

Dean takes a moment to calm himself, closes his eyes and rubs his face.

He's still trying to figure out what your triggers are. But it's hard. One minute you're ready to stab a granny over the last chocolate bar, and the next you're on the verge of a panic attack.

You have severe PTSD. Dean tells himself for the 10th time today and sighs.

"Listen, sweetheart… She's no threat." He calmly repeats the words he's been saying like a mantra the past days. "But you can't just go poking holes into people. You understand that, right?"

[declawedwildcat]

Holy shit I hate context and love ranking things, could you rank the n+c games by how weird the weirdest thing that stuck out to you about each of them is?

GOD yes you know I can. Thank u for continuing to enable me always, I will work my way though these with pleasure. N+C are famous for being Weird™ but honestly between playing these and now nearing the end of Danganronpa, I think I might just be desensitized to a certain amount of batshit plot lol

This ended up being more general than one specific Weird Thing, but. in order of least to most weird:

5. Slow Damage — This game is the most normal on account of it not having any supernatural/fantasy bullshit it can lean back on. Like sure there's some Weird Shit going down, but most of it is either someone's mental breakdown or at least doesn't stretch suspension of disbelief too unreasonably. There's only one Weird Event in particular that I can really think of offhand (which I won't get into since it's a spoiler for at least one person who might read this and I want it to stay a surprise), but even that was left open-ended as to whether there's anything real happening vs. just the character's mental instability. It's much more likely to be the latter.

4. Togainu No Chi — The plot of tnc is, shockingly, one of the most consistent and coherent of the bunch imo. It's got dark shit going on plenty, but most of it is not that weird or at least makes sense within the backdrop they've set up. However the plot does hinge completely on a fairly weird nonsense element of refined-blood drugs that are actually maybe a virus and also the antivirus is also blood. Also, not that weird but there's a sort of "high-school reunion" factor to almost the entire cast somehow having connections to one another despite only a couple of them actually knowing each other (and they all just so happen to be in this one place at the same time) that's awfully convenient. Like raise your hand if you aren't part of the big secret backstory that no one is supposed to know about

3. Lamento — Cat game comes out of the gate pretty strong laying out exactly what the world you've just entered is going to be like (and then strangely left-turns in tone not long after, but I digress) so while things get weird at times, tbh most of them feel fairly consistent with the setting once you've gotten through the initial waves of stage-setting. That said, though, you've also got one demon designed like he belongs in a completely different game, unexpected and barely-relevant snake vore, and an underexplained werewolf/demon/tentacle monster cat going on. Also something like two or three (non-consecutive) hours of the ~40hr run time are suddenly a zombie game so that was pretty left field

2. sweet pool — sweet pool is weird. It just is, no one is arguing this. However, I'd argue that maybe at least some of the Weird Factor is that it's ostensibly an A/B/O game that released just a few years before A/B/O became officially A Thing, and so it hits just enough of the same notes to almost have an uncanny valley effect since it lacks most of the terminology and tropes that became established shortly after. Despite being weird All The Time there is one specific plot point that immediately comes to mind: this game is so somber and depressing and just about every second of it takes itself so seriously that there is absolutely nothing funnier to me than during the dramatic reveal of a bunch of the lingering mysteries, when they answer the question of why it's exclusively gay with "these biblically-damned parasites hate Christian God so bad that they specifically developed to reproduce through sodomy out of spite." I actually had to pause the game so I could finish laughing.

1. DRAMAtical Murder — I decided to put this one in the top spot because, while sweet pool is consistent in its weirdness, DMMd will just say something completely patently insane out of nowhere and then just continue to roll with it. And sometimes the plot will pivot to follow suit while other times it will just literally never become relevant and they've just sprinkled that little tidbit in there for seemingly no reason whatsoever. It's fascinating. If you were to go into the game completely blind, then it doesn't matter if you've made it to the end of one route, you will not have any better an idea of what's going to happen on the next one. Conjoined twins but the conjoined part is their hair. Mind control tattoo. The incest-selfcest-robo-beastiality situation. There's reasons this game got meme'd on, and it's such a "makes no goddamn sense, compels me though" story. It's just garbage enough that you will not stop thinking about it for another ten years

{"Make me stack-rank my toxic yaoi" asks}

[pielove123clan]

Failure, for the OC thing!

Thanks for asking because I got that vampire autism and don't talk much about my ocs. The thing with my ocs though is I purposly leave them open-ended, im never done developing and changing them. I did all my ocs if you don't mind. The thing is, I need to give my ocs more trauma. I'm too nice with them. None of these are fandom related, their just general ocs in my head.

Question: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

Aparna: She is an undead zombie housewife who can turn into a giant rabbit kaiju. I think her greatest failure is going to be going to sleep when moments before her huband was trying to reson out why she should let him kill her. She was opposed but her husband was able to talk Aparna down like, "Ok honey, this idea was kind of silly, Your right, I don't know why I thought this would be a good idea. Let's go to bed." And then when she fell asleep, her husband killed her. No one else knows this and she's been trying to move past it, look on the bright side because the killing was done to make her 'immortal', it was just greatly delayed. I still need to do more research on how The Great Depression effected families.

Milicent: She is a woman made up of a bunch of centipedes but looks like a normal ass woman, just glossy. I need to give her a failure because killing people in a time when you were more controled by animal instincts and not fulling a conscious self doesn't feel like much of a failure to her. She just moves on like nothing every happened but she accepts that yeah, she did eat people. That was how she was before. She's not doing it anymore because she prefers engadging with not dead people, but she wouldn't care to do it. She'll tell her adopted child Fleshy when she's older.

Fleshy: Body horror child escaped experiment who is a living virus. Weird stuff I still need to write down fully. Her biggest failure is her existence because she was a mistake from the lab that made her. I think she's moved on fine so far but she's still young, still learning. Milicent is trying to teach her how to live in this human world while being true to her nature, im still trying to work out their dynamic. Milicent is doing her best but some of the stuff she's teaching is maybe questionable.

Fleshy has minor anger and violence issues actually. For example, if someone were to tease her, if they don't noticibly look bigger or stronger or if she knows she could get away with it, her immediate thought is "punishment" as in, she will punish the other person, just like the people at the lab did to her. That means hitting or trying to absorb them or their limbs, and she's ruthless. She's very shy and cowardly to juxtapose that and Milicent is trying to direct her to not solving situations like that with violence.

Marigold: She's an ecology student with a shovel that can dig holes to other dimensions. Letting her father vanish before she could completly say all she wanted to say to him. Before he had suddenly vanished, they had a verbal argument. What I'm working with now is that for some reason, the father is insisting on moving out just as Marigold got accepted to a local university. The day after while Marigold was gone from the house, the home was ransacked, her mother was beaten, and her father was no where to be seen. Im still working on lore for her. Long story short, she find the shovel and she's trying to find her father, the problem is she doesn't know what shes doing. No one knows about it. She used to be very social until her father went missing and her mother got transported to the hospital.

Zovasa: They are a vampire jumping spider person. I guess being easily bribed for their apperance? Because its a scay spider who seems to be around misfortune or bad events, people misinterpret them as the bad omen. It's in Zovasa's instincts and nature though to see misfortune sprits or demons and then suck their blood or ichor, or whatever magic demon juices are in there. But, if you thow Zovasa a bone or give Zovasa any sort of kindness that isn't hatred, that demon is free to do whatever in Zovasa's eyes. They get let off the hook. Zovasa doesn't see it as a failure, just that they'll go a little hungrier but its ok. Zovasa is alone so I guesss only the ones that bribe them know.

Cranberry: Gremlin bog otter cryptid. This thing has no thoughts in its head other than violence. The world is lucky that the Cranberry does not have highest intellect. We are all better off that way. I think the biggest failure is the creators of Cranberry have yet to find a way to control the Cranberry and weild them as force of destruction. A handful have tried only to die out of bloodloss from their fearsomely treacherous claws and mighty sharpened maws. Only few know of the Cranberry breeding lab under the bog.

Milly: Medical student in medical school studying to be a surgeon. How did she pay for medical school without the support of her parents? She signed a shady loan connected to a shady underground organ trafficing ring! That's her biggest failure so far and she can't move past it yet because she needs to work off that debt. She is pretty introverted so no one knows, im still playing around with the idea of Milicent, Milly, and Fleshy being a sort of found family and if that still sticks, Milicent would know and be there for her. Otherwise, I need to make Milly some friends.

Verdell: Haven't written much for him because hes relativly new but he will be a superhero oc, possibly influnced off tokusatsu stuff. He is Milly's brother and the much more favorited child in the family. It would be an easy cop out answer to say in his eyes, his greatest failure is not being able to help everyone while remaining in the spotlight and get that recogition. He does legitimately want to do good and help people but he's also a people pleaser and badly trying to over-compensate. He wants his good deeds to be seen, high praises sung in his honor, to be liked and widly revered worldwide. I don't think he's that subtile so if people wanted to really pay attention, he prioritizes what will give him more eyes, more fame in his heroic endevors. He feels the need to go higher and higher since birth because those high praises are what his family gave, he feels like he needs to live up to that severely. Experimenting on making him Marigold's housemate after the vanishing of her father.

Bake: My tanuki oc! She doesn't see herself as having any major failure in her life but for the most part all she thinks about is eatting and survival as a wild animal, and whatever would get her interest at any given moment. She's a younger character with no role model figure or adult figure in her life. She's really alone. Given her attitude as an animal, has little empathy for others experiences or feelings about death other than a dead thing should stay dead. I think her biggest failure is that she doesn't have any real goals or ambition, no actual reason to strive for continued exsistance other than for survival sake. She just exist, wandering around. She might be depressed but she doesn't know it, because she naps quite a bit. She also really doesn't have any morals unless its just, "This thing will get me killed so don't do that." or "There's food there, food is important for survival. I will take it." Id like to write her more but I get self conscious.

Malinda: This giant red and black spikey dragon. In her eyes, her biggest failure is not getting out of her cave and murdering the king yet because they keep sending these knights to her cave in order to steal from her horde of items. She has a personal vendetta against this one specific king but she can't be bothered yet to take care of it, she's procrastinating. I think her biggest failure is sort of being a hermit and shutting herself off from things. She's a very neutral dragon, almost passive with how much she doesn't care unless something really rouses her. She's just as likely to join a hero's party as much as she is to join the demon lord, its whoever gets to her first and impresses her the most. It's depending on her company how she'll develop.

Lily: My self-insert oc. The easiest way I can describe her species is wolf tulpa person. She specifically has an identity crisis. I made her to try and get through my own trauma and digest it without attacking myself. Wolves are known for their packs and undying loyalty so betraying or deserting them is treason no matter what. She is activly running away from her problems by going around by herself in an RV. She is not able to move past them and that's a major part of her character. She's trying but activly, when she tries to go with other people, to have fun and move past it, feelings kind of consume her. Even one slip up and she gets all scared and withdrawn. She has SAD or Social Anxiety Disorder when she never had that before. She internalizes her greatest failure a lot, the failure to stay and protect the ones she loves and cares about, then seeing them seemingly get corrupted by a miasma right before her eyes, or that dillusion in her part? I purposly make it vauge. I think about Knight Of Despair when thinking about her sometimes. I need to write her but its like staring at a mirror. I can't do it for too long but I'd like to.

[minusgangtime]

The apocalyptic kitty crew bios 3:

“As long as I’m smiling,you’ll never know how a truly feel,and you’ll NEVER get to me.~”

Name: temp

Age: 20

Status: immune

Feeling: unknown

Bio: in the early days of the apocalypse,when temp first chased and wiped out infected,as he saw his blood stained hands,he broke down..it was then he decided to toughen himself up. So he made himself a persona of a psychotic unfeeling demonic cat man,he put so much of him in this persona that he began to genuinely belive it,he lost his shyness,his stutter and his phobia of blood,but he forgot about what TRULY made him happy..

“I’m sorry I..I’m not helpful anymore..I’m just a burden..”

Name: sunny

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: depressed

Bio: sunny was actually handling the dark plague fairly well,until one event,sunny and simba were out getting good but when they were heading back,they were ambushed by zombies,sunny pulled out a weapon from his bag,a grenade. But not dulling getting the distance between him and the zombies,it hit both of them. It blew up the zombies but also bit sunny,he was immediately knocked unconscious,but luckily,simba was there to catch him. When he came back home he made a horrific discovery,he was covered in burn mark injuries,and the grenade had greatly crippled his sight in hearing,making his sight very blurry and his hearing fade out when things get too loud. Now he just stays in his room,feeling absolutely worthless.

“Face the wrath of the new god of PRIDE!”

Name: simba

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: neutral

Bio: like simba,he handled the apocalypse well,using a pocket knife to fend off against infected. After the accident he became paranoid about not being strong enough to protect his family. One day,he stumbled on the wishing flower from equestria,he then got an idea,he made a wish saying “I wish to be granted the powers of panis magicake.” And it granted his wish,turning into panisimbacake once more,but keeping his mental sanity. He uses his new powers for good to defend his family,he had learned to feel no fear from magic,so he doesn’t feel anything bad from using his chaotic magic.

“I’m..so weak..but I gotta keep going..”

Name: Herb

Age: 20

Status: infected (stage 5 of zombie virus)

Feeling: hopeful

Bio: from the first attack herb got bitten and infected by a zombie. Fearing the worse,shelby cast a protection spell on his brain so it wouldn’t turn her completely,everyone assumed if she WOULD turn into a zombie,her decay would stop at some point..they were wrong..over the next five months her health gradually decreased,when she hit the fifth stage she collapsed,her infection was dealing critical damage to her vital organs..she would’ve died..if it wasn’t for periwinkle. He found her and called for help,shelby gave herb a shot of a magic vaccine,this restored her organs enough for her to be revived,the vaccine isn’t enough to cure her,but it keeps her from getting any more damage,it lasts a day,so she has to shoot it in her arm every day. For the next year and a half she spent her time adapting to this change. While also finding a sense of her own hope.~

“I!..will not!..succumb to you!!!..”

Name: seasalt

Age: 20

Status: infected (stage 2 of corruption infection.)

Feeling: exhausted

Bio: seasalt lasted a while in the apocalypse,until lamina suddenly went missing. After midnight and crest went to look for her,though she was scared,she couldn’t leave the kids alone to deal with a potential threat. That’s when she saw it..lamina had been corrupted. Seasalt took a hit from kamina to protect the stunned kids,getting a scratch on her eye,getting her infected. Still,she fought with lamina through song and managed to free her. However,the consequences were felt..every couple of days..Seasalt got nagging voices in her head to submit to her corruption,she dies her best to fight it off,but the process has left her exhausted,still,she tries to appear “normal”.

“We’ll get through this. We always do.”

Name: lavender

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling:neutral

Bio: lavender has stayed inside the entire apocalypse,she knew if she dared go outside,she could have the HIGH chance of getting killed,or infected. So instead,she studied the infected,and the stages that her family suffered. She grew apathetic to the world and just grew used to writing the logs in a journal she called her diary. She usually only reprimands the crew when they do something stupid.

“FACE MY FIERY WRATH!!!”

Name: blaze

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling:determined

Bio: once blaze gained permission to go to town on the infected,she didn’t waste time. Every time she goes,she brings a new weapon,though swords and flamethrowers are her favorite. Lavender commonly criticizes her for being so careless,often pointing to her accidental self inflicted scars,but she dosent care,often saying “I don’t care what you say,I AM protecting this family no matter what!” She also always makes sure she’s prepared,using her room as a gym to practice slices,shots and d dodges to make sure the infected don’t get close to her. Despite lavender chewing her out,she still loves her sister and her entire family,but she’s getting worried about lavender’s increasing apathy.

“I may be infected. But I don’t regret getting infected,I was just helping my sister.”

Name: snow

Age: 20

Status: infected (stage 1 of glitch infection.)

Feeling: brave.

Bio: snow was doing really well into apocalypse,however,it would be his own empathy that got him infected. One fateful day,he heard midnight crying over missing her papa. When snow tried wiping away her glitchy tears,he yelped as his hand became a glitchy claw. It was then the crew discovered that a glitch infected tears or blood could spread the infection if touched. Yet snow didn’t regret it,as he was only helping his baby sister. From that point on,he dedicated himself to better understand his glitchy hand. He will often assist others with fending off infected with his glitchy claw.

“Leave me be..wake me,when I’m dead..”

Name: nightfall

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: tired/depressed

Bio: from the beginning,when herb got infected,nightfall couldn’t handle everything. So he just stayed in his room and refused to ever leave,his thought process being if he dosent see this depressing reality,it dosent exist.he refuses to acknowledge it and prefers to sleep and live in his dream world when he’s not sleeping..he’s just..crying until he falls asleep,the others have to bring food to him,luckily he still looks to be eating the food.

“I give up..I don’t care anymore..”

Name: galaxy

Age: 20

Status: immune

Feeling: numb

Bio: similar to pinkie,she tried being optimistic and positive,but at one point,she broke..and when she did,she lost all willpower to live and reason to care,and when she did,her colors became more grey,its theorized that it’s a result of the magic that gives her her human form. She mostly just stays in her room,only occasionally going out to shower or eat,she mostly stares out the window blankly,her nails have grown sharp from not trimming them.

-mod shelby

((Almost) everyone is sad :()

[originemesis]

@micsmasmuses cont. from xxx

“Rebound? That doesn’t sound fun Adam that sounds really depressing” he makes a face as he explains it. Hit it and quit it? Doesn’t that get lonely? He’s not going to ask him that considering Adam would probably with make fun of him or something about his dick. He doesn’t want to hear about that again. Now he just keeps confusing him, how is that a normal thing? Shaking his head he can only sigh in response. “We’re not going to LA I can tell you that, but let me guess you’re sneaking down there with that girl you’re always with? She like your girlfriend or something?” He asks trying not to feel jealous. He really shouldn’t be he made these choices a long time ago despite not really wanting to. He had more fun with the other male during their time in the garden than with his ex wife. But with him now in front of him and that itchy trigger finger at his jaw he lets him go once Adam makes a move.

He watches him take it off, curiously tilting his head he wonders how much of him changed over the years but those thoughts stop the moment he sees why didn’t want to take off the mask. He frowns disappointed with himself, he thought he was just being an asshole as always about it. But noting the freckles he remembers those, he missed those. But then he can’t help himself as his hand gently caresses over his cheek, concern over his features as his thumb runs gently under his tired eyes, feeling the dampness. “I… Adam sweetheart…” he says softly, he hates he’s too much of a man to tell him about this stuff. Can’t humans be open with their feelings? But he gets it if he doesn’t want to talk about it. “I can leave, we don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I know I can be demanding I just didn’t know… if I’m the last person you want to see I can go.”

"Yeah, and? You're really depressing. Total mood murder. Doesn't stop me." Clearly. Depression was just a conspiracy theory anyway- yet another made up lie from the hell spawns. They certainly loved their made up words, so it wasn't any wonder that their overlord (or was it under5ftlord-) did too.

"Ohh? No LA? And just where the hell did you plan on going to find all the fun weirdos filming their little tik-toks in the streets, then? You want some nice little quiet dinner date at Subway then choke down a foot long in the parking lot? " Scoffing, he'd riled himself up fairly well before the removing of his mask. So it only made the bristled ends of his dour demeanor a little more sharp now that he was suddenly exposed.

"She's not-..." He started, a grumble in his chest like swallowed gravel. A shake of his head helped prop the bent angle of chestnut hair a little higher- hardly different than a rooster about to raise an alarm, though his tone seemed too weighed down to the task now that he didn't have his voice projector helping him with the effort needed to be an insufferable fuck. "-she's my lieutenant, dude. Y'know...angelic army branch? The exorcists?? Ring any bells?" The dimmed face of the mask hanging by his side had its signature shit eating smile on stand by, but he merely swung it lightly by the horn still, unable to manifest the manic mood quite literally programmed into the thing.

He'd reached up halfway through his monotone rambling, aiming to grind the ball of his palm at the corner of an eye- as if the pressure in doing so might liven up the forgotten nerves, but the first fallen beat him to it, though a thumb tracing the dark coloration of deep tear troughs was hardly stimulating enough to spark a flash of much else other than a glassy stare and eventually a slow blink.

"She's busy uh...fucking some mid dude tonight or something. Said she might-" A pause punctuated the recollection, and the next words to fall were what caused the flatline of his gaze to stir with something- a thin layer of something, and it was damp. "-not come back. So-" He shook his head to try and free his chin from the careful grasp, though the effort was about as strong as a fledgling facing a hurricane. "I kinda don't want to be here to see if... y'know- she doesn't." He'd already had to watch two of them do that already. And now dude here was about to head out too- he opened his mouth, teeth flashing white and surprisingly flat, but grazing sharper words that invited a quaver to his voice just to handle them properly.

"-the fuck's wrong with me anyway, dude?"