#it’s a year old now which is crazy to me..

[h0ney-mochi]

Admit it, it's jealousy. (Scaramouche x reader)

# sub!Scaramouche, sub!scara, dom!reader, top!reader, readers gender not specified, can be read as gn!reader, reader gets called mommy though, begging, praise kink, scara gets called puppy a few times

Summary: Scaramouche gets jealous and he doesn't want to admit it. So you make him admit it.

A/n: I'm posting this on Tumblr because not all Tumblr people have seen my ao3, probably! :) It's pretty crazy to think about it... I wrote this in 2022... woah. It had its 2 year anniversary a few days ago. ...I still haven't finished the 2nd part since it's deletion from my old phone. All I have is a snippet.. sigh

You knew it. He was obviously jealous. You were previously speaking with some of your guy friends, having a fun time, because one of them apparently just chowed down on some soap that looked like a food. Scaramouche on the other hand was hanging with some other random people, but you caught his eye. He watched as you were speaking with a smile, all of you laughing, the way your friends smiled at you back. It made him feel weird, he didn't know what it was. But he did not like that feeling.

Now you two were back home. You went to make yourself a simple drink in the kitchen, while Scara slowly followed you. He sat down on a chair by the kitchen island and watched you do your thing. "Do you want some tea as well?" You turned to look at him for a moment. He replied with a simple no, so you continued. You filled the object with water and put it to boil. Scara's mind wandered back to your friends, which made him feel that weird feeling again. You noticed him zoning out. You sat down in front of him and began speaking.

"Are you alright? You seem down," you asked with a small smile. He immediately looked at you. He stared for a moment before replying. "I'm fine, just because I look like something doesn't mean I'm that," he rolled his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, "what's wrong?" "Like you don't know," he snarled. You were confused. "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to think of what has happened today. Scara turned his head back at you, staring right at you, "The way they laughed with you? The way they were smiling at you? Looked like they felt accomplished when they made you laugh." You blinked. Did he mean your friends..?

Wait. You furrowed your brows, "What- you've got that wrong, they're my friends. We've always been like that. One of them told me how he ate soap unknowingly, that was funny!" He just nodded his head, "really?" "Yeah, you know that I'm friendly with everyone!" You spoke, tapping the table. He just looked away, not replying. It was silent, except for the water boiling. Then it hit you. He was jealous.

A smirk slowly went on your face. "Are you.. are you jealous, Scara?" You asked. Surely not. He looked at you. So that was that feeling..? He shook his head and looked away again. "No, I'm fucking not." He replied. You blinked at him. "Oh my god, you're jealous??" You couldn't stop your smirk as you watched him avoid your eyes. "I just said that I'm not, are you deaf?" He grunted, looking the other way. You felt amazing for some reason. You got up from your chair and walked to the other side of the island, where Scara sat. He noticed that and turned his chair towards you. You pointed at him, "that, my man, is called jealousy." He glared at you, "I'm not fucking jealous, idiot!" You glared back, "then why are you mad?" "Because they were laughing with you! Did you see the way they looked at you? They definitely had something in mind!" He shot back at you. Silence again. You stared at him, lidded eyes. He stared back.

"That's jealousy." You mumbled. He wanted to say something back, but didn't. "It's not," he denied, starting to spin back to the kitchen island, but you stopped him. He glared at you again, "what do you want." "You're jealous," you repeated, holding the chair. Scara turned his head away, making an ugh noise. You took his jaw and turned him back to you. He went to take your hand away, but your hand that was preventing him from turning away shot to his wrist, stopping it. You watched his eyes widen.

Now he felt different.

"You're jealous," you whispered, staring into his eyes, "admit it." He was silent. He wanted to move his hand, but you tightened your grip on his wrist. His eyes drifted to the side, away from you. "Look at me, Scara," you immediately said. He looked to the other side. "Scara." You held his jaw a bit tighter, "look at me." You watched his eyes slowly look at you. His expression had softened. There was a moment of silence.

"Good boy," you whispered. That line went straight down his pants. You watched his eyes widen slightly. "Admit it. You're jealous." You spoke again, your grip on his jaw loosening, "It's normal, but you should tell me." His eyes drifted away again as he swallowed and you reacted. "Scaramouche, fucking look at me." You said and he immediately looked back. He felt tingly, he started feeling.. hot. "Speak." You simply said. He blinked, eyes looking away, "Ugh, fine, I-" "Look at me." You interrupted him. Scara felt his dick twitch. He looked at you again, a small blush on his face. "I was jealous-" He whispered. "Scara." "I'm jealous-" he said a bit louder. Silence again. You watched his eyes go away again. You sighed and watched as he looked back at you in a moment. You went closer to his face, going to his ear. "Good boy," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. You took your hands away from him and went to pour water in your cup.

Scara just sat there, his mind repeating your words. He felt his dick twitch again as he breathed out through his nose. You just poured your water, put it away and watched the teabag float up to the top, the usual. You messed with your spoon and then put it down. You turned to Scaramouche. "Are you sure you don't want tea? Maybe you've changed your mind?" You asked. He stared at the ground. How did you change your attitude in a span of a few seconds? "Scara?" You asked again. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he just shook his head. You stared at him. Then it dawned on you.

You quickly went back to him, standing in front of him. He looked at you right away, scared that you'll tell him to speak again. "Oh God, I'm sorry, did I hold your wrist too tight?? Did I say something wrong?? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" you quickly started rambling. Scara stared at you in confusion. "What? No, no, you didn't hurt me- Where the fuck did you get that?" He furrowed his brows. "I don't know, you went quiet??" You shrugged, staring at him. Then he realized that you don't know the effect that your actions had on him. You two stared at each other. You looked away for a moment, then you started to walk back to your tea, but Scara caught your wrist and pulled you back. "Did I do someth-" "Am I really..?" He interrupted you. You looked at him. He was staring somewhere else. "What do you mean?" You asked, standing in front of him again. He took his hand away from your wrist. "What you said previously. Am I really.. you know-" he glanced at you before looking away again. You thought to yourself. Wait.. oh.

Your smirk was back. "Say it." You spoke and watched as Scara bit his lip for a second, turning his head away. "Am I really.. ugh." He felt his cheeks flush. "Come on, I know you can say it," you leaned closer to him. He was getting more anxious. "Am I really a- fuck. Am I really a good boy?" He quickly said, feeling the embarrassment wash over. You laughed a little, your hand going to his jaw. You turned his head towards you, his eyes still not meeting yours. "Look at me, Scara," you simply said, just like before. His eyes meet yours. "Yes," you started, your other hand going to his chest, fingers slowly sliding down, "you are a good boy." You could feel his heartbeat quicken. Nervous eyes staring into yours. "You want me to say it again?" Your fingers stopped at his stomach. He felt his dick twitch again. He blinked at you, glancing away from time to time, but not fully looking away. "Scara, tell me," you asked again. "Please," he whispered, eyes fixating on the ground.

"You'll have to try better than that," your fingers went back to his chest and you watched him look back at you. "No, please-" he repeated a bit louder. You smiled and he glanced away again. "There's no need to be ashamed, it's just us here, you know," you said, tilting your head to the side. Scara rolled his eyes, "Shut up." You pulled him a bit towards you by his jaw, causing him to look at you with a gasp. Your smile was gone. "I thought you wanted to be called a good boy, no?" You blinked at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, again. He just stared. "So you don't want me to call you that? You could have just said that earlier, you know," you looked away, looking bored. "No, please, please-" he started, but you cut him off with a stare. "What? Please what? Tell me." You put your attention on him again. He gulped, forcing himself to stare back at you, "please call me that, please-" "Call you what?" "Please call me a good boy, please, fuck-" He was getting desperate, you could tell. And you wanted to drag him further. "Not with that language," you lidded your eyes again. He exhaled, staring into your eyes intensively. "Please, please call me a good boy, for f- ugh, please," Scara started rambling in embarrassment, "mommy, just call me a good boy, please-"

"What was that?"

It went silent. He watched you slowly smirk as he realized what he said. "I-" he started, but nothing else came out. Fuck. "You want mommy to call you a good boy?" You whispered. He was desperate, nodding immediately, but you held his jaw. "Use your words, Scara." You pointed out. He wanted to curse himself for being so desperate for you. "Yes, please call me a good boy, please, m- ah, mommy-" he quickly spoke, eyes digging into yours. It went silent. His eyebrows were furrowed, face flushed — desperate. You slowly blinked at him. Then you went closer to his ear and spoke to him in a whisper.

"Good boy."

You heard him exhale. Your hand released his jaw. Your other hand went down his chest to the tent in his pants that already had a wet spot at the top. You heard him let out a surprised gasp. You pressed a few kisses on his neck, before pulling away to look at him. Scara's chest was rising while your hand circled his tip through his pants. You watched as his hand went to his mouth, loudly exhaling again. You looked down. You quickly got his pants down to his knees, staring at his boxers that were dark at a certain spot. You then pulled his boxers down just enough for his dick to be out. Scara was starting to feel dizzy, the feeling of his dick being free, your intense stare in his eyes. You quickly took his hand that was by his mouth and pulled it away from his mouth. "Don't do that, got it?" You told him. He quickly nodded. You stared. He licked his lips before responding, "yes, mommy-" You nodded, "Good boy." You noticed his dick twitch at that. It made you feel so powerful.

You let go of his hand, meanwhile your other hand slid down his chest to his thigh. You brought your finger to his tip, circling it, smearing his precum. He made a noise at that, bucking his hips. You took your hand away, looking at him. "If you're going to do that, I won't touch you." You warned. His eyes widened, "please don't, don't do that, please-" You nodded and went back to his dick. You wrapped your hand around and started to slowly slide it up, then back down, coating his dick with some precum. He whined, "please, please-" "Be patient, puppy," you responded, not removing your eyes from his dick. Slowly you picked up the pace. Then you looked at him. His eyes were shut, there was drool starting to slide down his chin. "Scara, look at me, open your eyes," you commanded. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. You made eye contact. Fuck, he looked so submissive. You increased the speed, jerking his dick quicker, starting to make wet sounds from his precum. He moaned, head going back, more broken moans falling from his mouth.

"Scara, I told you to look at me," you reminded. He lifted his head back up, trying to look back at you. You giggled, "Good boy. Tell me how it feels, won't you?" Sweat was appearing on his skin, drool out his mouth. He started to speak, but that's when you started jerking around his tip. He moaned louder, tears starting to prick at his eyes. "Come on, tell me how good it feels," you whisper. "A-ah- f-feels good, fuck-! Oh my god, fuck, it feelssogood fuck, mommy-" Scara tried his best, but fuck did it feel good. You went closer, pressing your lips against his, indulging him in a kiss. His hands immediately clutched at your shirt while you drunk his moans. Your hand sped up, focusing on his whole shaft. More precum went down, making even more wet noises. You pushed your tongue against his, he kissed back messy. Then, you heard his moans becoming quicker, his hands clutching you tighter.

You pulled away from the kiss, licking your lips, staring down at him. "Gonna cum, puppy?" You asked and he nodded, staring up at you. Your hand started slowing down as you raised your eyebrow. He whined, "no, please, I'm close, please don't slow down, pleasepleaseplease-" "That's right, good boy," you went quicker, staring at his ruined state. His head fell back and his moans increased in volume. You could hear him say 'please' multiple times in a row. Then his head came back, looking into your eyes, begging you to not stop. You looked down at his dick, then looked back at him. You leaned into his neck to press a few kisses, while Scara placed his head on your shoulder, his hands going to your back, gripping the material again. "I'm- I'm gonnacum, a-ah, fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum I'mgonnacum please-" His breathing was heavy. "Then cum, go on," you whispered, "be a good boy and cum for me." That was the final push.

A loud moan went through his throat as he came. You looked down, watching his cum stain his shirt, drop on your hand, slide down to his thighs. After a few seconds, you started slowing your hand down. You could feel him shake, his breathing heavy again. Then your hand stopped. You kissed his neck while he breathed in your shoulder, calming down. Scara's head was spinning, he felt like he might pass out. Drool and tears had stained your shirt a bit. After a minute you felt him release your shirt. You pulled away, taking your hand away too. You looked at Scara. His eyes were unfocused, mouth still open, face hot, drool and tears. He looked so pretty, so ruined — it made you feel powerful, how you managed to somehow get him like this.

You broke the silence, asking, "Scara, are you alright?" You watched as he looked at you. "..I'm okay." He finally said, blinking at you. You smiled slightly, rubbing a few of his tears away with your clean hand. He was silent, staring at you. You stood up straight and looked at your other hand. You licked a bit off from your fingers, swallowing down. Scara stared, eyes slightly widening. No way he found that hot. "Alright, I'll get some tissues, wait here," you quickly said and walked to the bathroom. You washed your hands first.

Scara was zoning out, thinking of what the fuck just happened. He can't believe that he got so damn desperate for you, that he let that name slip out. He shook his head, looking down at himself. Yeah, he'll have to put this in the wash for sure. Then he heard noise, turning his head to it. You walked in with tissues and a slightly wet towel. You put down the towel on the island and took a few tissues. You took Scara's chin, holding his head up. With your other hand, you cleaned away his drool and a few wet tears. He couldn't stop staring at you. You noticed and just smiled at him.

Then you took your hand away from his jaw, looking down at his dick. You pushed his boxers a bit more away and cleaned the cum off his thighs with the tissue. Then you took another one, continuing to clean around. Then you carefully got to his shaft, then tried to get a few stains off from his shirt. After that you put the tissues away, taking the wet towel. You cleaned his thighs and areas again. Scara bit his lips, you were gentle. You put everything away and went to throw out the tissues.

"I think we should put a few of your clothes to wash, don't you think?" You asked, coming back. He nodded, but stopped mid-nod and responded, "Yeah, right." "Take your shirt off, I'll get you a new one," you smiled, running to a room. He felt his cheeks get hot again. He loved this, even if it made him very embarrassed. He slowly took his shirt off, then you ran back into the room. "Um, I got you clean boxers as well, if you don't mind-" you spoke, putting down the clothing on the chair next to him. He stayed silent, handing you his shirt. You took it and went to quickly put it in the washing machine. He took his pants and boxers off. He took the shirt and boxers that you got him and put them on.

When you came back, he was already holding his clothing in hand for you. "Did it get stained too?" You asked, taking them. He just looked away from your gaze, "just in case." You nodded and went to also put them in the wash. He could hear you pressing a few buttons and the machine starting to work. When you came back, Scara was still staring somewhere else. You stood in front of him.

"I'm sorry," you broke the silence. He immediately looked at you, face showing confusion. "Why the fuck are you sorry?" He asked. "You know," you messed with your shirt, "I kind of didn't really ask if you wanted me to do.. that, so- I understand if you're mad." He blinked at you. "You're a fool to think that," he replied, "I'm not mad. I'm.. surprised, I guess." "Why?" You stared back at him. Silence.

Scara stared at you. "Well, first of all-" he coughed, "you turned me on in the worst way possible." He looked away from you, feeling his face get hot more. "You made me beg for you, you- fuck. You.. goddammit, you made me fucking desperate." He felt the shame again. Silence. He started feeling nervous, for some reason. You quietly asked, "Did you hate it..?" He looked back at you, "No I didn't, I fucking loved it, idiot." "You loved me being controlling??" You asked again. He stared. He started thinking. "Well, if.. if that was that, then- um, I guess?" He shrugged. Silence, again.

You slightly smiled, "I'll make note of that." You leaned your head closer to him and he immediately kissed you. You kissed back, putting your hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you closer. You two made out, your thumb rubbing his cheek. Then you pulled away for a breath, but he pulled you back again. You slid your tongue against his, a muffled noise from Scara. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss, breathing on your lips. "You made me so desperate, you have no idea," he quickly whispered before kissing you again. You felt his hands clutch your shirt, pulling away again. "You made me- fuck, you made me-" he couldn't put into words. He wanted to kiss you again, but you put a finger to his lips.

You stared into his eyes, "I made you call me mommy?" He breathed out a 'yes'. "I made you obey me?" You continued, lidding your eyes. He breathed out another 'yes'. "I made you finish so hard, that you were shaking against me?" You put your hand back on his cheek. He whined out a 'yes.' You put your lips against him again, he kissed back immediately. You two made out for a while, some muffled noises from the man. Then you pulled away, pressing a finger on his lips again. "Let's go to bed. It's late and I want you to get rest, okay?" You spoke in a soft tone. He nodded. "We can continue tomorrow," you continued, taking your hands away from him. He did the same. You smiled at him. "Thank you," he mumbled so quietly you almost didn't hear him. "You're welcome, Scaramouche," you chuckled at his expression. "Jeez, so formal," he rolled his eyes. You laughed and then your eyes caught something.

A cup. With already cold water.

"Oh my god," you said out loud, Scara sending you a confused gaze, "I forgot about my tea." He turned his head to where you were staring and yep, your cup is there with your forgotten teabag. "..I'll heat it up and drink it, you can go to bed," you said, rubbing your forehead. He stood up and looked at you, wanting to say something, but didn't. He just stared, might slightly agape. You looked at him again. "You want me to tuck you in?" You smirked, a giggle coming from you. He widened his eyes, looking away, "no, fuck you." He started walking away and you followed him. Scara went into his room and turned around. "I thought you're making tea?" He raised his eyebrows at you. You nodded, "Yeah, I will. I just want to say goodnight."

"Well, you just said it, you can go now," he motioned his hand at you. "Get in your bed first," you said. He just rolled his eyes, "I was going to do that anyways." He walks to his bed and turns on the light on the nightstand. He sat on his bed, staring at you, arms crossed. You walked over to him, leaned down and pushed him down on the bed. He gasped and you kissed him. His heart started beating more again, feeling you move your lips against his. He got that feeling again. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you more. Your fingers ghosted on his arm, leaving behind goosebumps on his skin. He felt your knee press against his crotch and he moaned in surprise.

That was unintentional — you didn't realize where you placed your legs. You pulled away and smiled down at him. Scara started back. "Goodnight, Scara," you said, leaning into his neck, "Good boy." Then you got off him and left the room, waving at him before closing the door. He stared at the door. He ran a hand through his hair, then along his face. Scara got under the covers, trying to ignore the feeling, trying to ignore the need for your touch again.

You just went to heat up your tea. Microwave beeps, teabag out, a bit of honey in your cup, mix it. You sat down and enjoyed your drink, slowly. You put down your cup, staring at the surface, recalling what happened. It made you feel hot, just like before.

"And it started with him being jealous, huh?" You mumbled, taking a sip again. "Live laugh Scaramouche." You chuckled, finishing your drink.

© h0ney-mochi 2022 ; 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[delilahsturniolo]

no body, no crime

— m.s

find other parts on my masterlist!

chapter 2 . . . rising suspicions

in which . . . you and matt are private investigators, trying to figure out an unsolved murder from years ago.

warnings . . . mentions of death, and a bit of arguing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first and please credit me if you are taking inspiration from my writing. happy reading! :)

you huffed as you stabbed a red push pin into a small photo, hanging it on a bulletin board. matt sat in front of the board, analyzing all the photos you put up so far.

“okay…here are the known suspects.” you said breathlessly, pointing to a photo of a bald man wearing a plaid dress shirt.

“mr anderson, emily’s algebra teacher. who she supposedly had an affair with. do you think he’d know something?” you turned around, looking at matt.

“meh, he’s just an old man. next.” matt grunted in boredom.

“okay…what about gianna? emily’s sister?” you suggested, matt just shrugged.

“can you at least be a little helpful?” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. matt groaned in annoyance at you, getting up and standing closer to the bulletin board.

“you’re being stupid.” matt looked at you.

“what?”

“look.” matt shoved you out the way, making you scoff in disbelief.

“you aren’t thinking about this enough you idiot. look at the time stamps, emily and justin went outside the house at approximately 10:30 PM. emily was shot at 10:56 PM.” matt explained.

“okay, so?” you huffed.

“so, we need to find out where our suspects were and what they were doing at that time.” matt turned around to face you, brushing his leather jacket off confidently.

“alright mr-know-it-all.” you laughed, matt shook his head at you.

“if mr-know-it-all wasn’t here you wouldn’t be getting anywhere with your crazy delusions. now come on, we gotta go.” matt ushered you to get up.

“where are we going?” you tilted your head in confusion.

“we’re gonna go to the jones’s residence.” matt smiled, trying to gauge your reaction.

“matt…are you sure about this?” you questioned, getting up.

“you wanna solve this case and prove everyone wrong? then follow me.” he didn’t even allow you to answer, leaving you know choice but to follow him. you grunted and dragged your feet across the floor, slowly following him and getting into the car.

about 15 minutes later, matt parked the car, you both stepped out. you were facing a small white house with a ruby red front door. you sighed.

you and matt walked up to the front porch, matt gulped nervously and held out his fist, softly knocking on the door.

you heard creaking from inside, causing you and matt to exchange a look of suspicion. before you even knew it, the door opened.

a girl with dirty blonde hair, a white tank top and pajama pants looked at you and matt in confusion.

“can i help you?” the girl smacked her gum loudly, causing you to flinch. she looked as annoyed as ever.

“hi! i’m y/n, and this is detective sturniolo. we’re from the silver stone detective agency.” you smiled politely, matt waved awkwardly.

“okay…you here to arrest me or something?” the blonde laughed stupidly, but immediately stopped when you and matt didn’t laugh.

“is gianna home?” matt asked her, his tone firm.

“that’s me.” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ears.

“um…is it okay if we interview you about your sister? we just wanna talk, and collect information.” you asked her, her face dropped.

“m—my sister? emily? the case reopened?” she asked frantically, you nodded your head.

“come…come in i guess.” gianna hesitantly spoke, stepping out of the way so you and matt could enter the house.

she led you both to the living room, the only sounds in the room were your footsteps and the ticking clock echoing.

you and matt sat next to each other while gianna sat on the couch across from you two. you took out your phone, scrolling and clicking on voice memos.

“is it okay if i record?” you asked her, she nodded.

you clicked record, setting your phone down in the middle of the coffee table in front of you.

“september 21st, 5:04 PM. interview with gianna jones, sister of emily jones.” you stated into the microphone.

matt cleared his throat. “so, were you at the house party in 2015? the one were emily and justin died at?” matt asked gianna, she nodded.

“i was. it was one of our friends’s party’s.” she answered, matt nodded.

“do you know where you were at about 10:30 PM that night?” you asked next, gianna’s eyebrows furrowed, leaning back in her seat.

“ahhh—i don’t know if i can remember, that was years ago.” gianna hummed as she began to think. “i believe i had already left.” she spoke.

“you went home after?” you asked, interrupting matt as he was about to speak. gianna nodded.

“are you sure?” you insisted, narrowing your eyes at her as she looked hesitant.

“wait…do you seriously think i killed emily?” gianna scoffed, giving you a dirty look.

“y/n—“ matt put a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed him off.

“no no no, where were you really?” you pushed the question further, gianna was absolutely fuming.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!? i told you i went home!” gianna raised her voice at you, standing up. you got up also.

“gianna, i don’t want to argue with you i—“

“no! get the fuck out my house! stop questioning me!” gianna screamed at you, pointing at the door. you sighed in annoyance.

“gianna come on! you must know something!” you tried walking closer to her so you could talk with her, but gianna took a step back. matt grabbed your phone, stopping the recording and grabbing your arm.

“y/n, it’s time to go.” he said in a quiet tone, trying to pull you away. you resisted his grip but nothing worked, he pulled you out of the house and in front of the car.

“let me go.” you yanked your arm away from matt, your voice wobbling emotionally as you spoke. matt’s gaze softened, which was a rare occurrence for someone as cold-hearted as him.

“how could she be like that!? she was clearly hiding something!” you expressed your rage, pacing back and forth.

“i mean, there was no way she just…went home!” you raised your voice slightly, tears of frustration slipping down your cheeks. you thought you could do this, it was going to be way harder than you thought. maybe everyone was right, maybe you were just crazy.

matt stopped your pacing, catching you by placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer to him, which caught you by surprise.

“y/n, stop for a minute. calm down, just breathe.” he instructed, your angry rambling immediately came to a halt as you looked up at him.

“i agree, she could’ve reacted better. but you didn’t have to overwhelm her with so many questions. remember, her sister died. this could be hard for her to talk about. you need to slow it down, we have plenty of time to solve this case. okay?” matt reassured you. why was he being so…nice?

“okay.” you replied, taking a deep breath. matt let go of you.

“let’s go back to headquarters and review what we’ve got, then we’ll call it a day.” matt told you as he got into the drivers seat, starting the car and waiting for you to get in.

maybe you weren’t so crazy after all, maybe…there was something you just didn’t quite catch.

and you were in it for the long run, little did you know that you’d go through a wild ride of twists and turns.

© delilahsturniolo

join the taglist here! 🤍

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

EMG normal, not done w tests but expect those be normal n even if not, it not explain things

which. normal EMG good thing, yea. have some scary ones on own ddx that this rule out.

people be relief n happy for me n expect me feel same but. don’t have time feel that because all that feel is dread.

dread because this my frail weak last mental defense against trauma & gaslighting & internalized gaslighting “there nothing wrong” “you want something wrong” “you just crazy (derogatory).” last thing keeping me going n trying.

dread that this will (& already has) be use against me. parents already imagine future where “am�� in it but am not actually in—a year three years five years later, able bodied walking talking n living independent n “finally happy.” parents encouraged to force me walk use wheelchair less speak more. as someone already with no escape from them because still severely disabled with symptoms & high support needs even if no diagnosis (some diagnosis), who already feel trapped & suffocated & hopeless with no future or escape here before this. worry life going get so much worse.

they don’t understand autism here. don’t understand stereotypical autism don’t understand not-stereotypical autism it all same coin. here see self as ultra in “not-stereotypical autism” category because autism regression include nonverbal late in life. be diagnosed by top autism place in US not matter. it didn’t it doesn’t & it won’t. for people not born nonverbal they see two option: physical muscle or vocal cord issue or psychosomatic mental illness but derogatory. its “real” in sense they supposed say that but its not real. fact that am actually mentally ill just support that more.

wheelchair bad. nonverbal bad. AAC tablet bad. no one can imagine happy life with them except me.

n no one can understand or even try to understand that those actually not what make my life utterly miserable: not have support needs met, not have communication support needs met (give me enviroment that actually feel safe use AAC then maybe will actually communicate more goddamn it), be trapped physically, be trapped mentally by past abuse with people who did that to me who currently doing that to me, have NO COMMUNITY n that there never ever ever will be any community here in person for me so long as stay here. with no end in sight. unless make one for myself. which—too fucking disabled to do that except [redacted]. which. even that, am too severely disabled thus surveillanced to do that.

not to mention those actually one of very few thing in my life give me joy right now (other joy is fiber arts. ok end of list. everything else even stuff used to enjoy is fucking chore. n even fiber arts becoming more of past time & routine than active joy)—it the only fucking thing that giving me any sort of hint of community right now (n also literally allow me do basic function in life like go places but. DIGRESS). even if it fucking small & pathetic & ironically isolating (bc my god the ableism against us. but without community will just be pathetic & isolated ALL ALONE). to advocate take it away, it incredibly cruel.

everyone expect me be able bodied neurotypical walking talking live independent n it that my personal failure not able do that because there “no medical reason” (…still have life long diagnoses but those not good enough real enough for them), faker. n just lost last mental defense against that. so yeah guess am.

dread too for what doctor going say n recommend after all this. honestly more preferable discharge me & let me go back to old life tbh.

in perfect world there be symptom management with no diagnoses & no definitive test results, that focus on work with what got, when it unrealistic or not fucking worth it try turn life upside down make “back” into “normal.” but. mm such thing not exist.

want be treat with dignity & respect & believed & agency even when don’t know what wrong & negative tests.

[toothlespoggers]

I got silly and infodumped again…

The fact that crystalised despite being the worst ninjago season by far- showed that for a long time now, possibly since season 11 has had his emotions turned off. Is crazy to me. Because I know Cole had a pretty okay moment with Zane about it and he ended up turning it back on in the same season or maybe even same episode I can’t fully recall. But I don’t know how mentally fucked these characters are or what- but I feel like no one stopped to think about that for enough time. Like Cole, he’s a very caring, affectionate, empathetic guy. Yet even he didn’t really seem to register the implications this had for Zane’s mental health. Zane is filled with so much emotional turmoil that he physically couldn’t bear to feel anymore. And this group of traumatised young adults were like- “oh haha Zane, that’s so quirky, that’s so silly of you, haha relatable anyway-“ Like duuuude I don’t know if this is the writers wanting to avoid actually discussing mental health in a “children’s” show or if these characters have had such little emotional awareness and support through their lives, almost dying everyday since they were teenagers that they are so desensitised to the horrors tm that they literally cannot tell when someone is basically holding a sign over their head saying “I NEED SERIOUS HELP.”

That kinda says a lot about Sensei wu, doesn’t it? I mean he’s great we Stan- but he did kinda adopt a bunch of struggling teenagers and burden them with saving the world and then allowed them to put themselves in harms way for years, without ever sitting them down and asking them if they were okay, emotionally? Like I don’t know if this happened and I didn’t see it or if it was implied to happen off screen but I really doubt wu was any sort of a support system for these guys that treated him like a father figure.  

Maybe it’s because this cycle of pain goes back to wu as well, because he’s not the most stable person in the world either, but idk it feels crazy to me that these people that were basically family. Just- never checked in on eachothers well being or looked out for each others mental issues.

I mean they never really got a break and when they did- hell the only reason season 11 happened was because wu, so obsessed with the ninja being in tip top condition urged them to do something, which led these idiots to unleashing Aspheera and then ended up with probably the worst fate you could wish upon a Lego, for Zane. Seriously the fact they turned the ice emperor thing into a joke is so tone deaf to me like if this happened to your friend. In real life, (just suspend disbelief for a second) you would be absolutely GUTTED. You’d probably feel SO BAD. And that person? Probably can’t function like a normal individual anymore. Probably needs serious therapy.  Not a joke.

I don’t hate wu, I never did. But I just think he’s been very irresponsible with the way he’s handled his students and while he’s wise in some aspects 70% of problems in the show could’ve been avoided if this old man valued communication.

And if this isn’t based on the characters flaws. And it’s Lego refusing to discuss mental illness and mental health. COME ON LEGO IT WOULD EDUCATE YOUR YOUNG AUDIENCE ON PTSD, ANXIETY AND HOW TO HEALTHILY DEAL WITH YOUR PROBLEMS. Because right now, if you wanna deal with issues the ninja way, YOU BURY THEM AND TAKE THEM TO THE GRAVE AND YOU NEVER COMPLAIN OR REST.

All I want is at least one episode where it’s not all about the current bad guy or plot and it’s just about the ninja actually confiding in one another and trying to help their friends out. Maybe Zane or Lloyd finally snap and have a full mental breakdown and the only way to deal with it is for them to actually talk about it and work it out. I’m sure you can make a compelling episode with that in mind. They’ve tried to address mental health in the show with Lloyds anxiety arc thing in DR they need to do better.

We need a scene in DR where Zane and Frohicky are at the monastery while the other ninja are doing stuff, (maybe I’ll work out the details more and write something on this) and something happens where all the pain and trauma and just, awfulness just builds up in Zane’s mind and he just. Has a moment where he cracks. And he stops working on whatever he’s working on. And Frohicky notices the shift in the air and suddenly his entire demeanour changes and he comes over concerned and Zane is standing there or kneeling and Frohicky puts his hand on his shoulder and asks. “Are you okay?” And Zane just doesn’t know how to respond. He tries to shake everything off but he can’t, he’s never been asked that before. And Frohicky starts babbling on trying to help him and offers to get him set up so he can rest, and Zane doesn’t have the strength to object or the will to say anything and he’s just like.

“I.. don’t know.” In a final response to the previous question. 

And it’s just a scene where Zane accepts Frohickys gesture of kindness. And while not everything is fixed obviously. You can slowly see the tension leaving him.

Because it matters if someone asks you if you’re okay. It reaches into the darkest place and offers a hand saying “I’ll listen.” And that could genuinely change someone’s life.

[nedsseveredhead]

im a little over a year into my new desk job. and it is crazy to me that the most dread i ever feel (job related atleast) is oooo bed toasty warm i dont wanna get up. like. i have not had job related suicidal ideation in a year. thats crazy to me. especially with how frequent it was at my old job. i still have nightmares about my past jobs. i havn't shaken my retail voice yet (which confused my coworkers when i switched from that to regular voice after i got comfortable around them). and its just so wild looking back now how working retail just effects your brain. like there has got to be studies done on this cause what the fuck was all that

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Eighty

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi besties <3

Today is the two year anniversary of the first chapter of SGW being posted!! Which is crazy, and wild and everything in between - and I can't believe that you are all still enjoying and reading this fic!

Thank you for your continued love for this version of them as we start the final 1/5 of this fic <3

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she tries to get comfortable in a hard plastic chair, one hand on her bump as she tries to resettle. She catches the eye of the woman sitting opposite her in the waiting room and they exchange a knowing look as she does the same thing. She couldn’t believe she was 20 weeks along, that she was halfway through her pregnancy. Time felt like it was slipping through her fingers like sand, catching only briefly on her skin before she lost it forever. 

It made her ache when she looked at Lily sometimes, something she was sure was made worse by her pregnancy hormones. It felt like just yesterday that she was a tiny little thing in Aaron’s arms as he handed her to Emily to hold for the first time, his smile soft and voice shaking as he told her they had a little girl. Aaron always had to remind Emily that Lily was still only 18 months old, his smile just as soft as the first time she held their baby girl as he assured her that even though she could walk and talk now, she was still very much her baby. She knew it would go just as quickly with this baby too. That in a year's time she’d be looking at his or her sweet face and wondering where the time had gone, her focus on features she couldn’t quite picture yet that she’d commit to memory the second she could. 

There were times when she struggled to believe that this really was her life, that it wasn’t just some dream. That she’d fallen in love with Aaron and they’d made it work, that their love for each other had created the family they now had - broken pieces of her life and his merging together to make something beautiful. She couldn’t imagine her life without him, Jack, Lily and the baby rolling in her belly, and she never wanted to picture a world without them. If this was a dream, it was certainly one she never wanted to wake up from.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she smiles as she pulls it out, Aaron’s name and contact photo - a picture of him with Lily on one hip and Jack on the other - flashing up at her. 

“Hi,” she says as she answers, the bustling sound of the precinct he was in giving away the fact he was calling her from work, “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything’s fine,” he assures her, his voice low as he tries to give them some privacy, “I wanted to make sure that you made it to your appointment.”

She nods even though he can’t see her, and rests her hand on her bump, “Pickle and I are here in the most uncomfortable chair in the world,” she says, smiling when he chuckles, her dislike of the chairs at her doctor’s office well-known, “Doctor Gibson is at a delivery though so her fellow is doing the scan.” 

“I’m so sorry I can’t be there sweetheart,” he says, and she can hear the guilt in his voice, can picture the way his shoulders would be tight as he curled in on himself in what he would consider his failure as a husband and father. It was a hangover from his marriage with Haley. He’d come into their relationship having learnt from his mistakes with Haley, but he was hard on himself sometimes and saw anything like this as the very thing that could start them down a rocky path he’d stumbled down before. 

“You have work,” she says, smiling softly, “I don’t think the innocent people of Philadelphia would appreciate you not doing your job just so you can go to your wife’s 20 week scan,” she says, her attempt at humour falling flat when he hums, “It’s the only appointment you’ve ever missed Aaron. I’ll call and tell you all about it later when Pickle has passed everything with flying colours.” 

“Emily Hotchner?”

She looks up and smiles at the nurse who’d called for her and stands up, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as she gathers her things, “They’ve just called me through, honey. I’ll speak to you later, okay?” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“I love you too. We all do.”  

She hangs up and follows the nurse through to the examination room, and is greeted by a doctor who looks younger than Spencer, enthusiasm shining in her eyes as she stands up to shake Emily’s hand.

“Hi Mrs Hotchner, I’m Doctor Jackson, Doctor Gibson’s fellow. She said to pass on her apologies that she couldn’t be here today.”

“That’s okay,” she says, placing her purse down on the seat Aaron would usually sit in, “And please, call me Emily. You’re going to spend the best part of an hour examining me and the baby,” she smiles as she gets onto the bed. She feels a spark of anxiety as she lays down and she instinctively reaches for Aaron’s hand before she remembers that he isn’t here. She clenches her hands into fists as she blows out a slow breath, her smile shaking a little as she looks back over at Doctor Jackson, “We may as well be on first name terms.”

“In that case, I think you should call me Louise,” she says, “Are we waiting on anyone, or-”

“My husband is away for work,” Emily replies, tugging her shirt up over her bump and tucking it under her bra, “So I’ve promised him a lot of pictures.” 

Louise smiles and nods, reaching for the gel to squeeze some onto Emily’s belly, “We can definitely arrange that.” 

Her anxiety starts to ease with each passing minute, her eyes fixed on her baby on the screen as Louise tells her that everything looks good. She smiles as she feels the baby shift and watches the movement on the screen, tiny fists and little legs kicking about as Louise finishes the scan. 

“Everything looks really good,” Louise says as she hands Emily a paper towel to wipe the gel from her belly, “She’s measuring exactly how she should be, and I have no concerns.”

Emily smiles, huffing out a breath of relief, “Thank you, thats…” She drifts off, her eyebrows furrowing as she pulls her shirt back over her belly, “Did you say she?” 

Louise’s eyes go wide, a reaction Emily would have caught regardless of her experience as a profiler, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, “Oh, Mrs Hotchner. It was in your file that you didn’t want to know. I’m so sorry, I-”

“It’s a girl?” Emily asks, her hand on her bump, her thumb tracing back and forth over where she can feel the baby, her daughter, moving, “I’m having another girl.” 

“Yes, you’re having a girl,” Louise says, “I’m so sorry.” 

“No thats…” she shakes her head, blowing out a slow breath as she wipes a tear from her cheek. She’d wanted it to be a surprise, but now she knew she couldn’t imagine not knowing, the image in her mind of her baby, her little girl, already clearer than it had been just a few minutes ago, “That’s amazing,” she chokes on a laugh, “I’m having another girl.”

___

She keeps the news to herself when she calls Aaron to tell him about the scan, her smile wide and her teeth digging into the inside of her cheek as she tells him that their baby looks perfect. She wants to see his face when she tells him they are having another girl, to share that experience with him in person. 

It’s a long couple of days. She finds herself almost slipping up a couple of times, catching herself before she accidentally reveals they are having a daughter over the phone, so she’s even happier than usual when he texts to say he’ll be home in a few hours. She’s pacing back and forth with Lily in her arms, the toddler half-asleep, her eyes drifting closed as she fights sleep, when Emily hears the car pull up onto their driveway, and she kisses the side of Lily’s head.

“Daddy’s home, sweet girl,” she says, and she heads for the front door and smiles when he walks in, “Hi.”

“There are my girls,” he says, dropping his go-bag to the floor and stepping towards them, smiling at the sight of Lily perched on top of Emily’s bump, matching sleepy looks in their eyes. He kisses Emily and then Lily’s head, “Hi.” 

“Dada!” Lily exclaims tiredly, yawning as she reaches out for him. Emily passes her over, her fingers skimming over her husband’s as he holds their daughter against his chest. 

“We were just about to do bedtime,” Emily says, her hand over his on Lily’s back, “Since you’re here, do you want to do it? I’ll make us some hot chocolate.” 

“I’ll be back down in a few minutes,” Aaron says, and he kisses Emily’s cheek before stepping past her, his lips against Lily’s forehead as she continues to pretend she isn’t tired, “Let’s get you to bed Lily-Pad.” 

Emily watches them go and smiles when she feels the baby kick. She laughs as she presses her hand against her bump and walks to the kitchen, “It’s time to tell Daddy all about you, sweet girl.” 

She’s just finishing dropping marshmallows into the hot chocolates when Aaron wraps his arms around her, his lips against her neck and his hands on her bump, “Despite acting like she wasn’t tired she fell asleep the moment I started reading to her.”

Emily hums and places her hand over his, linking their fingers together over the baby shifting under her skin, “She missed her Daddy,” she turns in his arms and kisses him, “I did too.” 

“I missed you,” he kisses her before he picks up the hot chocolates and they walk into the living room. He smiles when he realises the lights on the Christmas tree are already on, and he turns to his wife, “Were you and Lily in here looking at the lights?” 

She presses her lips together and nods as she sits down on the couch, “We were. She loves them.” 

“Just like her mom,” Aaron says as he settles next to her, one arm looping around her shoulders whilst he places his other hand on her bump, “And next Christmas we’ll have another baby for you to pass your love of the holidays on to.” 

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, love simmering under her skin in a way that was prone to making her cry these days, “I can’t wait.” 

“Me neither,” he says, kissing her temple, “I’m glad your appointment went well and everything looks good,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her sweater, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” 

She pulls back to look at him and cups his cheek, dragging him in for a kiss so she doesn’t just blurt out that they are having a little girl quite yet, “It’s okay, honey,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips again, “I know you would have been there if work hadn’t got in the way.” 

“The doctor said everything looked good?” He asks and she nods, running her thumb back and forth over his jaw. 

“Everything looks perfect,” she says and she blows out a breath, her heart hammering so hard in her chest she’s surprised he can’t hear it, “She also told me something else…accidentally,” she says, biting her lower lip as she sucks in a breath, “She told me what we’re having.” 

His eyes go wide, “She did?”

She nods, her eyes already shining with tears she knew she was seconds away from shedding, “Yeah, she was really apologetic…but I couldn’t bring myself to care,” she strokes his cheek again, feels the wonder and happiness in his dimple as she presses her thumb into it, “Do you want to know?” 

“Of course, I want to know,” he says, not even having to think about it, the speed at which he answers drawing a laugh out of both of them. 

“Good,” she replies, chuckling, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “Because I would have struggled to keep it a secret from you for another 20 weeks,” she presses her lips together and blows out a shaky breath, and she wonders if this was how he felt when he told her that they’d had a girl when he handed her Lily for the first time, “We’re having a girl.” 

He gasps, the sound catching on his ribs as his eyes go wide, “We’re having a girl?” 

She nods, sniffing as tears spill down onto her cheeks, “Yeah. We’re having another little girl.”

He drags her into a hug, his arms tight around her as he kisses her wherever he can reach. His lips catch her temple, then her forehead, then her nose. Drawing a laugh out of her with his relentless love for her. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he says, his words muffled against her lips, and she captures his chin as she laughs, kissing him softly before she pulls back. 

“I love you too,” she replies, kissing him again, “So much.” 

He rests his forehead against hers, “Do you want to tell anyone else?”

She’d thought about it ever since she’d found out and she shakes her head, “We so rarely have anything just for the two of us. It would be nice to have this be something just is just for us until she gets here.” 

He nods and kisses her again before he wraps his arms around her, holding her close and burying his nose in her hair, “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he kisses her forehead, “Whatever you want.” 

[shhroomer]

You guys ever read the most beautiful, jaw dropping, feet kicking, leaves you with a feeling of yearning fic that it possesses you? yea that was me anyways here’s vampire Kyle and his annoying assigned bodyguard who’s also a witch

(ALSO IF YOU WANT TO READ SAID FANFIC ITS A KYLE X READER FIC CALLED ITS FALLING FOR THE IDEA BY FEDOSAURUSREX ON AO3 THAT INSPIRED ME TO WHIP THIS WHOLE AU UP)

[squeakadeeks]

I wanted to compile a super post for all the worthwhile stitch in the ditch OCverse art so when needed i can reference it all in one go haha.

to establish the background context:

Stitch in the ditch is a fantasy OCverse that takes place in a patchwork quilt world that's falling apart and characters are working to either repair it, scrap it, or actively make it worse lol. The realm is comprised of micro-biomes confined within their respective quilt patches in the fabric of reality but it overall has a taiga/cold northern forest feel. Within the fabric world there are people known as stitch witches who can see, manipulate, and craft with the fundamental threads that compose the quilt world to cast fiber-based magic. a stitch witch known only as Brother is known historically as the greatest switch witch of all time.

about the characters:

Pupet is the MC and is a living doll made by Singer. he is made from the living threads of reality and is able to directly intermesh with the world fibers, letting him directly repair tears and damage to the quilt. He has a loving, curious, responsibility-minded personality. His body is constantly falling apart because he is made of fabric and has to be pushed to the limit to accomplish the herculean task of saving the quilt world. He uses a large needle and the red thread of fate as his weapons!

Singer is Pupet's mom and the most famous stitch witch of her time until she gave up her magic to create Pupet. She has a big, bold personality and loved being the top dog of the magic world. She has a strong sense of duty and believes in noble sacrifices to a fault. Although she has complicated feelings about Pupet (hes why she lost her prized magic and he is created in the image of her late son) she loves him dearly.

Altan is pupet and singer's travel companion + pupet's partner. Hes a worldly outdoorsman who knows the lay of the quilted land and is deft with a rifle to dispatch monsters known as the Oose, beings created from the lint of the unraveling seams. Hes extremely sociable and personable, he gets along with Pupet perfectly but clashes heads with Singer constantly.

Husqvarna is Singer's ex-wife and instead of following her plan of repairing the world, Husqvarna wants to collect and tidy the scraps of the patchwork world and only salvage the most intact portions to be repurposed into a new, unknown, smaller world. (her plan is akin to cutting apart an old shirt to be used as something else as opposed to constantly fixing it). She believes strongly in herself and her ideals and has a strong sense of objective justice. She employs stitch and seam as her henchmen, still squabbles with singer post divorce (they still love each other but its complicated) and feels angry that Singer used their son's visage and memory to create Pupet, who she first sees as a cruel, stupid play on singers part (she recreated their son who died of illness in a body that will also fail quickly for the sake of a plan that she thinks is foolish)

Seam is a ball jointed doll who was created by Brother many years ago to be one of his perfect companions. She absolutely detests Brother now, seeing him as a pig-headed, immature, narcissistic, explosive nightmare. She has a deep sense of loyalty and is desperate for someone to have a happy, close bond with. She finds this in Husqvarna, as the two have a mother/daughter bond, as well as her brother Stitch, and Pupet (who she also sees as a brother). She can be fickle and lackadaisical, loves cute things, looking pretty, and taking care of others. She has a giant seam ripper to pick out patches cleanly for Husqvarna.

Stitch is the other doll created by Brother, but he has a less black and white view of him. He had admired Brother and enjoyed feeling special as one of his creations but came in time to realize how dangerous he was and ultamately sided with Seam when she chose to leave. He was still conflicted about Brother until he damaged him for the first time in his life by breaking off his arms. (both stitch and seam are akin to demi-gods when it comes to physical harm, they didnt even know they could be hurt until then). Hes currently terrified of Brother. Hes not as close to Husqvarna as Seam is, but still views her more as family than as a boss. He also likes Pupet and sees him as family too. Stitch is kind of a weird, awkward guy who marches to the beat of his own drum and is probably one of the only characters in the story who is fine to be left to his own company. Hes got a huge pair of scissors for his weapon.

Brother, also known by his actual name Rulon, is the primary antagonist. He's the one that instigated the rips in the patchwork world to make his own personal kingdom, and commands the oose, which are monstrous balls of lint and loose thread created by the fraying edges. He's lived for hundreds of years and is loosely based on rasputin. He believes himself to be a living god and the most powerful, objectively perfect thing in existence. which is unfortunate bc hes kind of right, but he insists that because of his talent and ability he should be the king of all things which is where things get messy. he is also incredibly manic, impulsive, immature, reactive, delusional, narcissistic, and controlling. unbelievably its not in bad faith, he does genuinely want to do good and help people/the world, but he cant wrap his head around the fact that he might not always be right. He loves Stitch and Seam as what he believes are his only two equals and is deeply hurt and confused that they dont love him back the same way, he thinks singer and Husqvarna are foolish and wildly out of their depth, and thinks pupet is a shoddy slight of the act of creating living dolls, since his body is constantly falling apart and he will die soon. he thinks its cruel that singer created him at all.

[zombiechara42]

quick doodle for gerards birthday C:

[budd-ie]

Actually what I love most about hualian is that by the time of "if you don't know what to live for then live for me" they had already had many meetings and moments together, and while that one moment may have solidified his resolve and his purpose, it may have never actually come to that point had xie lian not caught him from the wall, had he not saved him from qi rong, had he not told qi rong off and punished him, had he not stood up for him every time someone spoke against him, had he not held him so warmly, had he not talked to him so gently, had not reassured him so genuinely, had he not protected him time and time again, yknow? Ever since they met they kept meeting by chance and it might have even felt like Xie Lian was looking out for him specifically, even if it was just a coincidence and he would have done it for anyone else. Hong-er is crazy enough to do whatever he wants on a whim, but this wasn't like a split second decision Xie Lian was already like a lifeline to him at this point, and he took his chance and asked his question to a statue in a shrine he may have never cared about had they never met. He may not have really expected an answer and was just asking with a last desperate hope to find any reason to keep going on, but he got an answer from that one and only person in the world who he would ever trust. That trust was built stronger every single time they met and it all led up to that point. If hong-er had asked that question without the pretext of their previous meetings, would he still devote his life? Maybe, but it's not easy to say yes definitely. If it had been anyone else, would they also devote their life? That's also entirely possible, but it wasn't anybody else. It's three parts fate and seven parts courage, and again, Hong-er is crazy enough to do whatever he wants on a whim, so he chose life with the rest of his courage. In short, when we say their story is so specific to them, I really do believe that it could quite literally only happen to them specifically and no one else given their situation. If Xie Lian didn't have such a strong sense of justice and love of all people, if hong-er wasn't so desperate, reactive, or strong-willed, if either of them weren't just so damn stubborn, I honestly think none of these events could play out the same way and/or be as impactful on them. It really couldn't have been just any crown prince and any beggar kid, it could really have only been them.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[saline-coelacanth]

Storm Vessel Jay has two modes. I usually refer to them as purple mode and blue mode, but I think this is a better distinction lol

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[hermitcraftx]

just got a dm abt one of my posts and y'all please don't try and show the hermits (or any minecraft youtuber or content creator for that matter) my posts, i'm uncomfortable with it and don't want any of my posts shown to a cc. if they stumble upon it naturally that's unfortunate but i can live with it since i do maintag a lot (something i REALLY need to stop doing tbh i already know i need to make a tagging system just for my blog that wont clog results) but going out of ur way to show a cc is entirely different and something i am not comfortable with.

no hate to the person at all but even if i wasn't a little silly and weird with it sometimes i wouldn't be comfortable with it, i want my blog to be a purely fandom only space with none of the creators involved <3 please respect this

[greppelheks]

I don't know how you've all experienced the year 2024, but I barely witnessed it, and I've been fighting for my life

[starbuck]

i offhandedly mentioned having seen a movie from the 2000s to my friend and she was genuinely flabbergasted because she thought i “only watched old movies”