#you know what we both could use? therapy // ooc.

[huramuna]

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets. 

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another. 

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply. 

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that. 

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely. 

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway. 

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole. 

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior. 

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there. 

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted. 

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.” 

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.” 

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive. 

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket. 

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point. 

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.” 

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball. 

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep. 

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.” 

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.” 

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?” 

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.” 

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape. 

“I need space. I need to think about this.” 

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.” 

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.” 

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.” 

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.” 

“Please— don’t go. I need you.” 

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out. 

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence. 

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option. 

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond. 

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him. 

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter. 

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were. 

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him. 

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water. 

You had to move out— you had to get away. 

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly. 

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now. 

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none. 

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?” 

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even�� a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now. 

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

– 

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic. 

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat. 

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself. 

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat. 

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.” 

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.” 

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.” 

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.” 

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.” 

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door. 

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!” 

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it. 

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not. 

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago. 

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in. 

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped. 

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.” 

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned. 

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets. 

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink. 

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying. 

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision. 

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever. 

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.” 

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.” 

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.” 

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly. 

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted. 

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable. 

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave. 

“Is that… alright?” 

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest. 

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” 

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan. 

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close. 

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur. 

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be. 

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep. 

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one. 

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work. 

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him. 

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell. 

“A new collar?” 

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. 

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling. 

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?” 

[opinioncore]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚— VICTIMs HOLD GRUDGES

— getting to know your friends! And enemies! And faculties! And students!

⸝⸝୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ — possessive and obsessive tendencies (yandere things), bullying, incest (not to you), OOC, manipulation, power imbalance (they're all rich and you're poor, or teacher and stuff) assault, you/your and they/them but AFAB reader, animal death (on Kabukimono's part only), OC mentions, mentions of death, choking (on Scaramouche's part only).

ᝰ.ᐟ — part 1 - reader x genshin cast

-–———————————————–-

Tartaglia/Ajax — The older brother of Patrina and Xiao. Zhongli always brought him to business meetings and these meetings are with foreigners, specifically Russian foreigners, since he was a child. He is a child of a different mother, a mother with ginger hair and blue eyes. He's a sporty kid in school, one of the most known representatives in sports whenever the school participates in competitions.

"Did you come to see me?" He asks, you shake your head, "I came here for Patrina, where is she?" You asked and looked around, he laughed, but it didn't sound happy at all, he placed an arm on your shoulder and pulled you close, not caring that he's sweaty, "I'm hurt, you came here looking for someone like her and not me? We gotta fix that, we're 'friends' remember?"

he doesn't really like how the word friend rolls on his tongue.

Xiao — The youngest brother of both Patrina and Tartaglia. He's the one closest to his father — Zhongli — the most. Xiao feels like he's indebted to Zhongli the most because unlike his siblings, he never knew he had a mother, and Zhongli raised him by himself, no nanny or whatsoever, Patrina helped a little to that. He's in that little infamous group — 5WIRL —known for making the teachers live a living hell, he doesn't really do much and just follows what Venti does.

"You're a clumsy person, you know that?" He says, trying really hard to bandage your sprained ankle, that he caused. "This was your fault you know?" You snort, he doesn't really answer, but you're getting irritated at how he can't bandage your ankle properly at all. "I'll just go get Dr. Baizhu to do it in the infirmary—" and you let out a pained gasp, he just tightened the bandage on your sprained ankle, "No. I'll do it."

he doesn't really like how Baizhu looks at you.

Zhongli — The father of Tartaglia, Patrina, and Xiao. Owns the biggest, wealthiest, powerful and most successful company out there. Would do anything he could to spend time with his children despite his very tight schedule, like taking Tartaglia to meetings, studying with Patrina, and raising Xiao. He used to be a student in Teyvat Academy and is now the biggest investor that funds the company.

"It feels like you aren't glad to see me at all. Why's that, I wonder?" He asks as he drinks his tea that's probably more expensive than your entire house and furniture and food all together. He isn't dumb, he knows why you're so unfriendly, but he's the one paying your therapy to help your mental state after seeing your friend die, you really should be more grateful. He doesn't hear you speak, not even glancing at him. "You're quite the troublemaker, no?" He stated.

he doesn't really like how hostile your eyes look.

─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ───

Kabukimono — The oldest out of the triplets by 5 minutes, but he really acts more of the youngest out of all of them. Was at first supposed to be the heir of the company his mother owns but she soon deems him unworthy (his words), and now he seeks attention from Amaya instead. He doesn't really do the same bad things his other brothers do, his just more clingy and obsessive than an average sibling. He's one of the most innocent and least sane people in the Academy (at least that's what they think).

"Please, have this.." he hands you something, it has a little flower with it.. and the main thing was a dead sparrow. He looks away with a flushed face while you look at it in horror. He fiddles his fingers, "I really love you. It brings me comfort that you don't make me feel less or worthless." It would've been very romantic if it weren't for the dead sparrow in your hands.

he really loves how he never feels left out when he's with you.

Scaramouche — He's next to Kabukimono, he was named Kunikuzushi but he doesn't want to be called that and prefers to be called Scaramouche. He also was supposed to be the heir, but his mother deemed him unworthy too (his words), so he grows to hate, feel insecure and finds comfort when he sees others as unworthy, just like him back then, he refuses to believe that. And thinks he's above everybody when somewhere in his heart, he feels unworthy. He uses Amaya as a way to release his frustrations, whether physically or emotionally or sexually, it doesn't matter. He's also in that little infamous group — 5WIRL —known for making the teachers live a living hell, and he is the worst out of the group, he doesn't wanna follow Venti at all but finds his ideas amusing enough to follow, students fear him, like a lot.

"Tell me. Where did you get this necklace from?" He asks you, holding out the necklace your friend - Nanako - gave you, "And why should I tell you that?" You spoke, defiant, not wanting to tell him anything, what if he was the one who actually killed your friend? It won't be long until he goes after you next if he finds out then. He scoffs, "Stupid... You're just really stupid aren't you?" He pushes you on the ground and gets on top of you. "Let's make something similar then, hmm? Something matching, and on our necks." And you feel something wrap around your neck, and as if on instinct, you wrap your hand around his.

he really loves the look in your eyes whenever you face him.

Wanderer — the youngest out of the triplets, yet more mature than the both of them, he was never meant to be an heir and never cared about it, was just heavily influenced by Scaramouche as a kid but soon grew to be more mature than him. He isn't as bad as Scaramouche when it comes to Amaya but isn't as good as Kabukimono though. He's also in that little infamous group — 5WIRL — known for making the teachers live a living hell, and he is like Xiao, just doing what Venti does, he isn't really with them all the time, just by himself.

"You're putting yourself in danger by talking to me, y'know that, don't you?" He scoffs, you don't even want to talk to him at all, you just want to ask where Amaya is, "I.. where is Amaya?" You asked, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, should've expected that, "Amaya this, Amaya that," he pulls your face closer to him by your face, "Why not ask me things about me, or yourself instead? I'm tired of getting asked about Amaya."

he really loves how you would call out to him by his name.

-–———————————————–-

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ part 1!! Yippie!! I wanna add more but like, nahh let's keep it to them instead, maybe I should do doodles too?

[2-guns-b1tch]

Midnight Visitor

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader

I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.

Ao3

+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.

The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.

"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.

Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."

Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.

Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"

Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”

You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.

"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.

You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.

"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.

He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"

"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.

Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.

You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.

"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.

"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."

You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."

You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.

"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"

He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."

But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.

Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.

Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.

"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.

"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.

"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”

You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.

Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.

He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”

You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."

He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.

"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."

You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.

A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.

Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?

The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.

"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."

You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.

You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.

Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.

——

You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.

The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.

But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.

Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.

You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.

You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.

You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.

After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.

You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.

Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.

"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.

You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.

Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.

You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.

Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.

For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.

He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.

This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.

He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.

Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.

"Don't come closer!" you scream.

He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.

You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."

"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"

The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.

"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.

With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.

You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.

You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.

To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.

"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.

You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.

The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.

"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"

You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.

"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.

"I don't have anything you want."

"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"

His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.

"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"

Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?

He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.

"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."

He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.

You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.

Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.

"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."

"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."

The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.

"Jonathan?" you mutter.

His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.

He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.

"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."

He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.

A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.

You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.

The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.

There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.

The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.

He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.

You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.

"Jonny..." you whine, "Please."

Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.

You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.

The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.

"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."

You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.

"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"

The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.

You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist.  His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.

"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you

to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.

One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.

He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.

"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.

"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."

"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.

You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.

 You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.

Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.

As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.

[buttonmillipede]

Okay, i feel like people are missing this opportunity for Bill.

So apparently snakes can’t see stars (I don’t know if thats true). Which as we know when he possesses people, the eyes look like cat but also snake eyes. What if, as a head cannon, he lost the ability to see the star’s right after he destroyed his world?

He attempted so hard to get the others to see and believe him, tried so hard to prove they’re real. He was put on medication, he was gaslit the whole time and right when he’s with the stars, the tiny dots of light are gone. The thing he tried to prove was real to the point he accidentally killed everyone just to prove it is gone.

He lost both lights of his life.

Also side note this could be used as a poetry shit for Stanford and Bill. Ford saw bill as the sun of his life, the brightest star to him but Bill doesn’t have that light in him to be any of that. Bill can’t even see that light so why attempt to relight it, why attempt to change it, why attempt to change?

Abby from mitski. Quotes that remind me of this

“I am something. I have been something. I was born something. What could I be?”

-Both stanford and Bill were born with something that them odd. Bill with one eye, not 2D and could see stars.

“There is a light that I can see but only, it seems, when there's darkness in me. There is a dream that I sometimes see. That only appears in the dark of sleep.”

-Bill could see something others can’t, he lost that ability once he destroyed his world but slightly gained it back when he went to therapy prison. This is based off of a comic i saw where bills happy place was Fords head which was filled with stars. He only got to see stars again cause Stanford is the brightest star in Bills life. Hes the only star Bill can see. Anyways he also only saw that happy place when he was sleeping or closing his eye.

“There is a light, I feel it in me but only, it seems, when the dark surrounds me. There is a dream and it sleeps in me.”

-Again back to the second point but this is in Stanford POV instead of Bill. Bill is a block hole, he’s not the sun. A black hole sucks all the stars (Stanford is a star) never to be seen again or to come out less bright. Stanford saw Bill a lot when he was asleep. Bills happy place is Stanford, he practically sleeps in his head.

Aka this quote from gravity falls:

“Get out of my head.”

“You first.”

Anyways this is just mindless ranting, a little OOC, and just head canons i wish to see more.

[fandom-reblog-central]

Fandom (dpxdc) Thought 2.5:

Context: Halfa!Jason Todd, ghosts communicate through emotions, liminals can do it to a lesser extent

Jason unknowingly keeps trying to push emotions to his family, not realizing he’s trying to communicate. With his family’s awkward outward reactions combined with the lack of response to his core, he feels isolated. Even thought it’s an accident on both ends, it has an effect on him.

To make it a bit worse, the batfam is liminal with all the death in the family and Lazarus exposure. They accidentally reject the emotional conversation from Jason’s core, so neither party knows why Jason is so on edge, but they don’t push for answers.

Danny (bad reveal, good reveal, literally Just Vibing in Gotham—whatever works) hears Damian’s core humming or trying to trill/chirp, and of course he has to help the sick liminal/baby-halfa core. With a LOT of bonding, Danny gets Damian to drink some healthy ectoplasm, and he feels a lot better. He even brings Jason over, knowing the connection to the Pit was stronger in his older brother and wanting to extend an olive branch after the… everything.

Once Jason starts feeling better and Frostbite is brought into the conversation, Damian realizes he can’t hide this from Bruce forever. And, with how many people in his family—hell, his contact list—had been exposed to the Lazarus pit, or gotten caught up in time shenanigans, or had been killed, it was best everyone knew. With Danny’s only request being “say I’m a meta instead of a ghost,” Damian goes to his father’s study.

(Forgive the ooc/awkwardness I don’t normally write fanfic lmao)

Damian entered Bruce’s study. “Father. I have something to inform you of. We have made a terrible mistake with Jason.”

Bruce’s train of thought pauses at hearing his youngest call Jason “Jason” instead of “Todd.” He looks up from his WE paperwork. “What is it, chum? Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“We are both well, Father. It is…” He grimaced and visibly tensed. “You have to promise to not be angry with me.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at hearing his youngest say such a “childish” phrase. “I will do my best. I’ll at least let you finish talking first.”

He knew this was the right thing to say when Damian relaxed slightly. Therapy was a wonder.

“Um…”

Oh. Oh no. Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne was not one for uncertainty—especially not in a conversation he started.

“Go on, lad, I’m listening,” Bruce said in as gentle a tone as he could (without getting too patronizing for his proud little Robin).

“I met a meta of a ghostly nature. He assessed that there was Lazarus Water in my body, and when he replaced it—“

“He what.”

“You said you’d let me finish.”

Bruce pulled out a notepad, jotting down bullet points to return to.

[Pit in Damian?? REPLACED?? Unknown ghost meta]

“Once he replaced it with the healthy alternative, I found…” He swallowed. “I found that I could more easily accept and show love. My time in the League played a part, of course. However, the Lazarus Pit had an effect on me as well, latching onto my desire to be worthy of a place here. I essentially have a rudimentary organ that runs on and communicates via emotion. Jason does as well, and his is stronger than mine. We have unknowingly been rejecting this more emotional form of communication, making him feel unaccepted and misunderstood.”

[emotional organ??? Accidental rejection? Possible to learn emotion communication?]

Damian shifted his weight under his father’s intense and worried Interrogation Glare™️. “Now that we know the problem, and are attempting to rectify it, we feel much better. Due to everyone around us being exposed to death, the Pit, or time travel, Jason, the meta, and myself thought it best if everyone was made aware. Our meta friend has a doctor who has specialized in this organ and the culture surrounding it for decades. He can apparently better help us manage our health alongside a regular physician.”

[meta doctor. Contact… everyone]

Bruce set his pen down and didn’t move for a few moments. “Are you finished?”

Damian nodded. “Are you angry?”

Bruce let out a long breath, closing his eyes. “I can never tell. Fear and rage feel a lot alike when it comes to protecting my family and my city. You’ve gone against a lot of my training, which displeases me, but I still love you, and I always will. We’ll see what your punishment is when I get more details. I don’t want to punish you for good outcomes, but the methods are important, especially in our work and at your age—“

“You can stop now, Father. I understand now what Drake means when he says he doesn’t know how to respond to the sincerity therapy has given you. I’ll gather the family for a debrief.”

Bruce opened his eyes to see his youngest wincing a little at the emotional vulnerability, but something else caught his attention.

His son’s green eyes faded to blue.

[rahleeyah]

What’s your argument for why it wasn’t OOC for Elliot to leave without a word?

Great question I would love to tell you

Lemme break this down:

Elliot has just shot and killed a teenager. One close in age to Lizzie. A girl he was supposed to protect, a girl he sees as a victim. He has a duty to protect victims and he killed her. That is traumatizing, and guilt inducing.

Elliot was so messed up by this he "went walkabout", which is vague but implies he literally left the city and spent time on his own in other places trying to process his emotions. He might have already been gone when Liv was calling him, and he might not have emotionally been in a position where he could answer.

We saw in 1.0 how Elliot responds to trauma and grief - alternately lashing out and shutting down. We see in the early days of oc how he shuts people out to protect them from himself.

He has walked away from people he loves before. He didn't want to let Kathy go, but he signs the papers bc he thinks she's better off without him and leaves them in her mailbox, rather than have a conversation with her. He has essentially been no/little contact with Bernie for YEARS prior to swing. Bernie tells Olivia that Elliot will just walk right out of someone's life if he hates them. She's wrong to think he hates her, of course - it isn't hate that made Elliot turn his back on his mother. He loved her, and that love hurt, and he walked away from the hurt. The love was still there. But she's right, in that he will walk out rather than have a hard conversation. God, how many times in 1.0 did EO not have the hard conversation? They are both reluctant to be vulnerable, even with people they love, even with each other.

He tells us in oc both that he doesn't like endings - and not actually saying goodbye to Olivia does in some ways leave that door open - and he does say that he feels he's lost her bc he neglected her. He knows that he is capable of withholding from people he cares about, even when he wishes that he hadn't.

Relationships end all the time, and they end painfully, messily, all the time, and sometimes not having a hard conversation will have the same result as having the conversation. Either choice he makes their relationship will end, either way he is leaving and Olivia is heartbroken. It's just one way he has to hear her and tell her no, has to with his own voice shatter her, and the other way she never has to hear him say he's walking out. The end result is the same but ghosting spares them both having to go through that conversation. Which leads to my next point -

Characters have to do things the audience sees as mistakes, have to make "wrong" choices, bc that's what people do. I don't want characters who only ever make Good and Proper choices, who always do the healthiest, therapy-approved thing, bc that's not realistic, and it's also pretty boring.

Just bc WL was spiteful doesn't mean this choice didn't work with Elliot's character. I have done some of my best writing out of spite. And we aren't looking at the other choices WL made, in this instance we're looking specifically at Elliot ghosting Liv. Logistically it made the most sense and I think it does emotionally too.

Why couldn't they have just stayed friends, stayed in touch? That's a valid question and I think it has a number of answers, going either way. But mostly I think it would have hurt them both too much. Elliot is desperate to make a break from the job, and keeping Liv in his life would constantly be pulling him back to it. Would make him miss the way things used to be, when he's trying to make a fresh start instead. And what do they have, when he's got his wife and kids at home and they're not doing the job together any more? Getting together for drinks every now and then? Either their relationship ends slower but no less painfully as they drift apart over time or the various circumstances Liv faces and their growing social closeness push them into a different sort of relationship, one the show couldn't give us in any meaningful way without Chris.

It is anticlimactic as all get out if they're still friends and content with that arrangement (which I don't think they could be) and nothing changes in their dynamic. Liv grieving and growing is compelling and him returning when their relationship is damaged but they're in a position to do something about it is better TV.

I think sometimes the argument is it's ooc bc he would never hurt Liv, but he has before, and anyone is capable of hurting people, even people they love. He has to make the best choice for himself, for his family, and for Olivia. He either doesn't want to or can't do the job anymore, he has a toddler at home that Kathy has begged him to help her raise, and IAB is going to go thru every inch of his jacket, which means they're going thru Liv's, too. There is no choice he can make in this moment that won't hurt someone. By ghosting Liv he can let her blame him, let her hate him, and maybe he thinks that if she hates him it will make his leaving easier to bear. Maybe she won't miss him as much if she hates him. Maybe he thinks that's what he deserves. He has a tendency towards self flagellation anyway.

All right imma wrap this up. This is my take, but I really do think from a character perspective it works, and I don't like the idea that it's lazy writing. Is it easier from a logistical standpoint - yes I think it was the only feasible choice. But it's not just "oh fuck it lets get rid of him and be done with it", they took the time to let Olivia be angry, to let her be resentful of new coworkers, to be withdrawn, let her answer a question about her relationship status with "I'm just getting over something." Truly lazy writing would've simply moved on, but they took the time to examine what happened and let Olivia struggle with it. Relationships are complicated, and sometimes a clean break is warranted. I've experienced that in my own life, and ultimately feel that more in depth conversations wouldn't have accomplished anything, and have been grateful that I was spared the ordeal of going round in circles, clinging to someone who'd already made the choice to leave me. They were right to go, and no amount of phone calls would've made that feel better, or changed anything for either of us.

[fandomhopping]

I posted 960 times in 2022

That's 960 more posts than 2021!

871 posts created (91%)

89 posts reblogged (9%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dgknightblue

@justbirdie

@soniclozdplove

@idiot-mushroom

@blitzxiiru

I tagged 942 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#rottmnt - 542 posts

#tmnt 12/18 kraangified crossover - 471 posts

#rottmnt leo - 409 posts

#tmnt 2012 - 281 posts

#lmao what is my life - 234 posts

#rottmnt raph - 132 posts

#tmnt 2012 leo - 132 posts

#tmnt 2012 raph - 124 posts

#rottmnt donnie - 113 posts

#rottmnt mikey - 98 posts

Longest Tag: 117 characters

#also i hate the fight for 12 mikey too like no this is ooc 12 mikey would never want to be seperate from his brothers

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ok but imagine if April and Casey never really even realized the boys could do things like chirp and stuff (cuz the joys are somewhat insecure about doing weird turtle things around their human friends) and learn about it from their interactions with Leon? Like, Leon let's out a little chirp and Raph chirps in return or Leon has a nightmare so the boys all just form an turtle pile on top of him. That's sort of thing

They would think it’s adorable!!

also question for y’all, do any of you ship capritello/ non April toxic jonatello? Just out of curiosity, I’ve seen it show up in my ‘for you’ a lot recently!

118 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#4

Favorite master splinter quotes:

2003: yes pizza sounds very good right now, with pepperonis! And karma!

2012: the cheese phone! Truly an emergency!

rise: phew! I really wanted my last moments to be eating rainbow sherbert!

151 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

#3

OK HEAR ME OUT

All the Casey’s stuck in a room together!

and I mean ALL Casey’s

cop Casey (bay movies)

2012 Casey

2003 Casey

1987 Casey (even though we only see him in one episode lol)

2007 Casey

rise Cassandra

rise Casey

I think that the first thing they would notice is Cassandra,

“dude your a dudette!?”

“hell yeah! Got a problem jones!?”

“Nah, as long as you like hockey and beating people up we cool”

Cue other Casey’s nodding in agreement

“you guys just became my best friends!”

BONUS:

“You’re a cop!?!?”

See the full post

222 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#2

Leo: would you guys be there for me if I was going through some thing?

Donnie and Raph without hesitation: no

Donnie: absolutely not

Mikey: laughing quietly in the background 

Donnie: I hope it sucks whatever you’re going through

Mikey wheezing: I hope it sucks???

Raph: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life

Donnie: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you

Mikey: wheezing and unable to hide his laughter anymore

Mikey: I can’t wait to go to your funeral knowing I could’ve changed that outcome

Everyone: losing their shit

Leo: I was just asking if you would be there for me!?!?

239 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So we get a lot of xovers where the '12 Leo gets jealous or feels Rise Leo is too immature/doesn't take things seriously but where's the aus where a tired mama Leo looks at his younger counterpart, sees how innocent and happy he is, and is all "This is Mine Now, my hatchling, nobody is allowed to hurt him" because he doesn't want this bundle of sunshine to go through the same shit he went through?

yes! And then he hears about his counterparts version of shredder and kraang,

12Leo: I’m signing us both up for therapy

18Leo: what?! Why?!

12Leo: *mom eye*

18Leo: fine…

292 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[izzy-b-hands]

Rewatching Metalocalypse in between episodes of OFMD and had the most haunting/stupid idea for a conversation between Toki and Ed

Because, in this musician's au I've got going on (there's a whole post I didn't get finished last night about a new fic draft for this I'm working on, with Dethklok and Ed's band (it's just him, Izzy, Fang, Ivan, and anyone else who occasionally circles through but doesn't stick around lol.) ) there are a lot of nice weird little pockets to fit in conversations that flit v quickly between serious to funny to oh that shouldn't be funny probably but it is a bit

And this is one of them that I just love so much. They've both got issues re: parents and dads, and had a hand in their father's deaths like. There's no easy fic intro into a conversation that in every iteration in my head goes something like:

"So," Toki flops on the couch by Ed. "I killeds my dads."

Ed frowns, and sets aside the magazine Pickles insisted he take right when he walked in, as 'a guest in their home.' "Okay. That's one way to start a conversation. I'm gonna counter with what the actual fuck? Why would you ask me that?"

Toki's eyes go wide. "You toos? I thoughts I was the only ones!"

Ed stares at the wall ahead of them, noting the flecks of dried blood as Toki hugs him tight enough to hurt. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I did. Not really the sort of thing I like to...we should go find Izzy and Pickles and see how the kitchen tour is going. We're here to write a song with you guys anyway, so maybe if we just get up to go do that and never talk about our dads or anyone's dads ever again-"

"You gets me," Toki interrupts softly, giving his torso another squeeze. "How does you feel abouts cats?"

---

And so on and so forth of Toki and Ed getting to know each other better on a surprisingly sweet and vulnerable level (legit I think Ed would fucking love Toki's models. They could make model ships together!)then scene cutting into whatever the kitchen tour entails and whether or not I'd want to take a stab at creating actual lyrics for a fic (spoiler alert, probably not, because I usually wimp out on doing that out of fear they'll be The Worst lmao.)

However, aside from writing it in the necessary way to try and match similar beats of a scene for OFMD and Metalocalypse, there's just. So much underneath there if I were to dip more ooc and write it just. Full breakdown (or rather, not so much ooc as the 'what would it take for him to say that' version of things) of Ed admitting yeah, he did kill his dad, Toki turning into a velcro guitarist hugging him to death, but instead of a few lighter but still personal shared details in dialogue then scene cut to Pickles and Izzy and the kitchen tour (aka Pickles uses the microwave and the oven to make homemade edibles on rare occasions, so they're just discussing how best to decarb different forms of weed for edibles. The kitchen staff aren't allowed to start working until they leave, and would badly like them to fuck off anywhere else), we just. Have the conversation. As painful and awkward as it might be for two dudes who really only kind of know each other on a business/work level that's edging towards 'actual interest in the other person'/friends level.

Ed can tell how he strangled his abusive father to save himself and his mum from having to live under his thumb any longer; Toki can tell about slipping and sending his cancer-ridden abusive dad to an icy watery grave after having literally just said he was forgiving him for everything he had done. Insert a bit there from Toki about his conflicted feelings re: did his dad even register that Toki was forgiving him before he was frozen and dead? And does it matter either way, now that he'll never know how his dad would have reacted to that forgiveness?

Does it fix every issue they have with their dads? Absolutely not, it's one conversation, not years of much needed therapy. But they have a cry over it and admit that it's incredibly lonely to be in their specific situations with their parents like that, whether the killing was an out of necessity on purpose (Ed) or more accidental (Toki, though he murmurs to Ed, almost whispers, that he knew how slippery it would get as he climbed higher up that mountain with his father in his arms. He could have slowed down, tried to be mindful of the snow and ice packing the treads of his boots. And he just wanted it all to be over with, but not like that. Not how it actually happened.)

I know the ppl interested in this part of the au are minimal but I just. have so much that keeps randomly hitting me that I'm dying to share on the off chance anyone else is interested fdsakjfl

[angclicwildfire]

the longest relationship ive ever been in ended today and im feeling Insecure so i might write for validation

[yanderecrazysie]

Can we get one where Semi Eita cheats on the reader after an argument and the reader leaves him but Semi has a mental breakdown and manipulates everyone against them until they have no other choice but to come running back to him?

I’ve never even considered writing for Semi, so this’ll definitely be a challenge! Semi’s personality is hard to nail down, but I’ve definitely gotten inspiration from both others’ interpretation of him and his wiki page!

I did my best to make this different from the Oikawa one shot by focusing on the manipulation of others, if that makes sense? It was really hard to get past my writer’s block so it took a long time, I’m sorry!

I really feel like this strayed from the ask, but this was the only way my brain would write it! I’m sorry!

SO MANY CHEATING FICS LATELY LOL- Gotta love us some angst

Thank you for requesting!

Title: Misinformation

Pairings: Semi x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, cheating/infidelity, heavy manipulation, talk of mental health/therapy/medication, swearing, Shirabu is your cousin, Semi’s probably a bit OOC

Summary: Semi knows he screwed up, that it’s his fault that you’re gone. But he can’t just accept that fact and move on. No, he’ll make sure that no one will ever let you leave him.

misinformation

/noun/

false or inaccurate information, especially that which is deliberately intended to deceive.

Ironically, the argument had been about your worry that Semi wouldn’t get serious about his relationship with you. You’d been together for five years and you worried that Semi was never going to propose.

When you’d pushed for an answer, begged him to tell you if he ever planned to start a future with you, he snapped back. He complained that you were being too pushy, that he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Maybe in a couple years.

You reminded him that, in two years, you would be going on your eight-year anniversary. And that was if he even proposed then-

It ended in him storming out the door, leaving you in tears, wondering if you were too pushy, too selfish. Maybe you’d let your friends’ teasing about how long you both had been dating get to you. Maybe your cousin Kenjirou’s insistence that Semi was just stringing you along sowed a seed of doubt in your mind.

Yet, you didn’t want to wait ten years to marry Semi, if he even wanted to ever get married. You wanted to buy a house together, live together, maybe even have kids together… but Semi didn’t share that goal.

Many couples would break up over such differing life goals, but you were determined to make it work. You loved Semi and you’d never break up with him for that reason.

You would, however, break up with him for cheating on you.

Kenjirou did a horrible job of concealing his glee when he showed you photographic proof of your boyfriend’s infidelity. Semi, naked, with an equally-naked girl curled in his arms. Both on a bed, smiling in their sleep.

You bawled your eyes out and, when Semi came over and you broke it off, he wordlessly collected his things and left. You wanted him to tell you that it was photoshopped or set up, but he didn’t even bother to try to explain himself.

He knew exactly what he did and, even though you wanted to believe any lie he’d tell you, he knew that you wouldn’t actually believe him. That, deep down, you’d resent him, never trust him, and be hurt more by the time you spent together.

As much as he hated himself, the one thing he could do for you is let you heal without him there to remind you of why you’re broken. As he passed Shirabu, the younger man gave him a triumphant smirk, making Semi’s fists clench in anger. Your cousin had always hated and distrusted him, waiting for the smallest slip up.

Well, at least one person was happy about this.

Semi was surprised to learn that you’d told others that the two of you broke up, instead of explaining that you’d dumped his cheating ass. You had every right to tell the world what a scummy person Semi Eita really was, yet you just acted like it was a mutual parting for reasons you didn’t want to share.

You were really too kind to him. He knew he didn’t deserve even the slightest generosity from you at this point, and yet, you were willing to spare him the humiliation he should be suffering.

Why the fuck was he so stupid? Why was sleeping with some random stripper his first response to having an argument with his girlfriend?

No wonder you were worried about him never getting serious. He was even more immature than he’d thought.

The idea of marrying you had entered his mind too many times to count. He was surprised by the mental image of you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him, but he wasn’t averse to it. One time turned to two turned to five turned to twenty turned to daydreams and fantasies. He knew where he wanted to marry you, what he wanted you to wear, how to decorate, who to invite…

But he didn’t have you.

No, he’d screwed that up big time. And he hated the thought that he might not be able to live out his biggest dream with you, when it was something you’d once wanted even more than he had.

The idea came to him when he’d… ahem… “overheard” a few of your friends talking about you. One girl voiced her concerns about your mental health and how you refused to talk to anyone about whatever it was that was bothering you.

As much as it hurt to think you were struggling with his betrayal, the girl’s words gave him inspiration. In the end, you’d be happy. Probably.

He’d get his wish and you’d get the wish you used to want. The twisted plan forming in his head would normally have disgusted him, but his fantasies of your future with him overruled his doubts. He wasn’t going to screw up this time. He’d prove to you that he’s serious about your relationship with him.

Very, very serious.

It took a bit of effort to track down your concerned friend, but it was all-too-easy to put on a fake act of concern to match.

“How is (Y/n) doing? I heard she stopped going to therapy and isn’t taking her medication anymore, is that true?” Semi inquired innocently.

Your friend looked stunned, “I… I didn’t even know she took any medication… or that she’d ever seen a therapist…”

Semi put on his best horrified face, “(Y/n) was always too embarrassed to talk about it with anyone. I think I’m the only one she ever confided in. Has she been acting strangely, refusing to tell you why?”

Your friend nodded, looking more worried than ever before, “What do I say to her?”

“I wouldn’t say anything,” Semi shook his head sadly, “Her condition might worsen if you press her too hard or make her feel embarrassed.”

“Condition?”

“Yeah,” Semi looked away, as though he was ashamed for saying something he should keep a secret, “I don’t think I should say what it is… in fact, I shouldn’t be saying any of this-”

“No, no! (Y/n)’s my best friend, I want to help in any way I can! Just tell me how I can help!” Your friend looked up at him earnestly, begging him to help.

Semi bit back a smirk. She’d taken the bait, now it was time for him to put his plan into motion.

“Have her other friends back off for a while, give her some space. She’ll only want to be around one or two people, like you, when she’s in such a bad place. Don’t make her feel bad or make her worry about it, of course, she’d feel awful if she knew you all knew about her condition.”

“So… I ask the rest of the group to give her some space for a while? Even through texts and stuff?”

Semi nodded, “It’s what’s best for her. Let me know if her condition worsens, okay?”

“Okay!” Your friend brightened, hopeful about the “help” she could provide, “You’re really good for her, Semi, you know that?”

This time, Semi didn’t hide his grin.

“Oh, I know.”

The next target was your mother.

She’d always adored Semi, so it was easy enough for him to talk to her about his “concerns” for you.

“When she broke up with me, she’d been acting kind of strangely, but, of course, I respected her decision. But she’s been… kind of…” Semi acted like he wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words.

Your mother looked worried immediately, “What’s been happening? She won’t talk to me.”

“Well, she had started to take medicine when she was with me, she wasn’t doing very well… emotionally I mean…” Semi acted like he was getting choked up, averting his eyes, “She started accusing me of things, said I didn’t want to marry her when…when I…”

Semi took a moment to sniffle a little, turning his face away fully, pulling something from his pocket. Something he’d bought recently.

Your mother oohed and ahhed over the engagement ring Semi had bought, tears forming in her eyes, “Did she know…?”

“Of course! I proposed to her, but she turned me down. Then, she got angry, claiming I didn’t want to marry her. I was so confused…” Semi gave your mother a sad look, “She said that her friends are avoiding her, but they’re doing their best to help her. She’s pushing them all away. I think… she’s starting to have… some sort of…”

“Delusions…” Your mother finished his sentence, looking distraught, “What helped her when you were with her?”

“I was the only person that could keep her calm.”

Your mother nodded, tears filling her eyes, “I want you to start coming over. If she gets mad, you can blame it on me, okay?”

Semi nodded solemnly, “Of course, Mrs. (L/n).”

“I wish there were more boys like you out there.” Your mother sighed.

It took less than a month for your life to fall apart.

First, your friends stopped talking to you, avoided you, and wouldn’t even return your texts. The only one that stayed by your side, your best friend, acted odd- jumpy, distant, and like she was constantly worried about something.

She brought up the idea of you talking to Semi again, saying that she was pretty sure you missed him. That he was good for you.

And you did miss him. But how could you forgive what he did…? And he didn’t even want the same life you did…

Your mom began acting distant too, always giving you tearfully concerned gazes, like you were on death’s bed or something. She told you that she’d talked to your friends and they all said they were trying to help you, despite you not having heard from them in weeks.

She asked if you dumped Semi, instead of you both “mutually breaking up” like you’d originally said. You, of course, said “yes”, and she just looked more worried, saying that maybe you were “too hasty”.

And you begin to doubt yourself. It was only one time. He might have been drunk. It might not have been as bad as it looked, Kenjirou was determined to break you two up, after all.

When Semi began to come over almost daily, it was like your mother and best friend suddenly relaxed. You felt more at ease, less awkward when he was there to keep the peace.

The final nail in the coffin was at the university’s football game. You sat between Semi and your best friend, who was giggling uncontrollably about something.

During halftime, a spotlight swung towards you, nearly blinding you with its light. You could see yourself on the big screen TV- everyone could. The announcer said something, you couldn’t hear over your pounding heart, and Semi got down on one knee, pulling a ring box out of his pocket.

The crowd cheered and cooed at the sweet display, a few girls chanting “say yes, say yes, say yes!”

After all the doubts about breaking up, the encouragement from your mom and best friend, and the sweetness Semi had been treating you with for the past few weeks, you couldn’t help but feel happy about the turn of events.

At least, you try to tell yourself that you did.

It felt wrong to say “yes”, but you didn’t feel like it was possible to say “no” with a whole stadium of people watching.

Your best friend assured you that this was the best choice for you.

Semi looked so happy, so pleased by your answer.

And isn’t this what you wanted all along?

This was the best thing that could ever happen to you, right?

So why did it feel like you didn’t have a choice?

NOTE: Please let me know what you think, I love feedback!

[melissaloveskatie]

Rewriting Kara’s dialogue from 5x19 cause it still doesn’t sit well with me. At least not the part where Kara uses the excuse of her keeping her identity a secret because she was trying to protect Lena. She could have said what is wrote and STILL be right about being mad at Lena for what LENA did to her, without sounding like a total hypocrite

Kara is my fave but here the writing was subpar and the way she says this :

Like ARE YOU FOKIN SERIOUS , KARA DANVERS??!!!

are you kidding me ?

“Whataboutisms”? REALLY?!

…

I know she was mad at that time ( Kara) so she lashed out but man, she swallowed her super boots with that one 🤦🏻‍♀️

As I said, she could have said

Kara: “I ALLOWED my fear of losing you to blind me from the fact that I was HURTING YOU DEEPLY and that cost me your friendship, that’s ON ME. But you.. you never even bothered to consider that I wasn’t TRYING to hurt you on purpose. instead , you played judge, jury and executioner and devised a plan hurt me in every way possible . Your cruelty is deliberate and that.. that’s ON YOU…

Lena: I’m sorry.. Kara I..

Kara: “I know you are… we both hurt each other but I honestly don’t know if I can forgive the fact that you pretended to be my friend for WEEKS , or that you stole from me, tricked me into steal for you and THEN you used kryptonite on me….”

come on!!

IS NOT THAT HARD TO MAKE THEM MAKE SENSE

🤦🏻‍♀️ I have the imagination of a peanut and somehow I think this is less OOC than whatever they wrote…. And now I’m all worked up about this scene again, dammit.

…

Adding these here in case someone wishes to explore them further

Believe it or not, this is family therapy 101 🤣

[danny-chase]

Warnings: violence, blood, realism in comics, me mentioning things stans want to ignore to make a point, you don't have to consider them canon, I'm just making a point don't hurt me

Right. Been seeing dialog about Jason's decision to give up guns that i feel is missing a few points.

1. Bruce is traumatized by guns. Yeah he jumps in the line of fire every night but that doesn't mean he isn't scared of/triggered by them:

[Image ID: Oracle!Babs and Robin!Tim roll/walk through the clocktower. Babs: (about guns) Hates them. But doesn't fear them. Tim: Not the way he jumps in the line of fire night after night. Babs: Line of fire... Babs: I was afraid of them for a long time. I'd go faint at the sight of a gun on TV. Tim: You have reasons, Barbara. So does Batman. Babs: But I. worked through them. Babs: Maybe Bruce hasn't. Maybe he's not the rock we thought he was. Tim: He bought a gun as therapy? Babs: Look at the facts. He bought it just like any other citizen. Like he wanted to experience it as someone else would. Tim: I don't think- Computer: Keyword media search alert. Tim: What's that? End ID]

Birds of Prey (1998) #40

Bruce's opposition of guns is partially based in trauma - it's not completely a moral stance or completely logical rule. Jason giving up guns is for himself, but it allows him to be closer to Bruce and for Bruce to be more relaxed in his presence -> can make their relationship closer.

2. [X] weapon isn't even lethal. Getting cut/hurt + no health care = possible death from infection -> shooting a henchman with regular bullets in the foot can be lethal. Or cutting them with a batarang.

[Image ID: A girl walks home getting off the school bus. Girl: "Mama, I know you don't want to hear this, but --" She opens the door to an empty run down house. Girl: "Mama? Mama are you --?" She opens up the bathroom door, revealing her mother sweating and bleeding out on the ground, trying to press a towel to a wound on her side. Her mom is wearing a henchman outfit for the H.I.V.E. Girl: "Mama!" Mom: "Why -- Why are you home so soon?" The girl holds her mom in a sitting position. Girl: "This isn't the flu. You said you had the flu." Mom: "I -- I will be better soon. I just need to rest." Girl: "You need a hospital, mama." Mom: "No. If they find out -- they'll take you away from me. Send me back to Guatemala." The final panel shows a wisp of Ravens cape, the view zoomed out. Girl: "I know you want to protect me, but you need help now -- no matter what happens later." Raven: "Maybe I can help." End ID]

Titans: Titans Together #4

Similarly could ppl stop acting like rubber bullets are non lethal, everything the batfam uses can be lethal and cause scenes like above. Literally none of them can claim moral high ground they've all thrown batarangs in people's faces (off the top of my head, Jason nailed Dick with one in the face in BoC and Bruce got Jason in the neck in UTRH so there's the two characters at odds).

3. Jason/Bruce has never hurt an undeserving person. Jason isn't a mass murderer and you're slandering him. Bruce is the best dad ever you're an idiot for thinking otherwise.

...did you miss the times he tried to kill Tim? Or sprayed Dick with fear gas? Or shot Damian in the chest (not rubber bullets mind you). All of this happened in Battle of the Cowl. He poisoned 82 prisoners indiscriminately in Batman and Robin (2009) #23, went around killing random "thugs" in Brothers in Blood arc of Nightwing. Is it slander if he did it? Idk. If anyone can answer that lmk but everything is canon now so the point is moot.

And let me also say if everythings canon Bruce has also hurt/hit/abused his family (i don't have the specific issue numbers but runs that I've seen bad dad Bruce in are The New Titans, Batgirl (2000), Nightwing (1996), Tom Kings crap, RHATO rebirth, etc. I don't feel like going into detail but if hard pressed i will) don't try to paint me as a Bruce or Jason apologist/hater please

Also literally see the panel above 💀 the mom is an undocumented immigrant from Guatemala with an engineering degree she can't use because the US gov is literally fucking flaming garbage, so she had to take that job to provide for her daughter. Quit thinking extrajudicial murder/vigilantism is a woke take. No. Stop. Bad. Criminals have rights for a reason.

Can you choose to call the above things Jason and Bruce have done ooc and bad writing. Yep. Go ahead, be my guest. Just it's weird to me that ppl always seem to do it for one character and not the other. Like... that's not productive dialogue? And yeah both Jason and Bruce stans do this i just happened to see a post from a Jason stan so he got to be shamed first. If you think i think my fave is wrong, i literally made a post publically shaming him at one point, and wrote an entire fic dedicated to me pointing out why i think characters would hate him the most 🤷‍♀️ if someone read a comic that shows your fave in a bad light don't call them stupid for not liking that character just point them in the right direction and if you don't want to. Don't. Just block them. I'm tired of watching ppl act like their better than each other because they don't consider things canon (unless you stan a minority character and don't consider their racist/sexist writing canon in which case, same, you're the best ppl in this fandom)💀 or referencing fanon as canon and telling ppl to go read more comics 💀

Anyways the takeaways I've come out with are, this debate between the two is more than just morals, they've both wronged each other, and trying to simplify it down into victim and abuser is just - missing nuance and ignoring their full histories in my opinion and kinda just ends up flattening both characters and making both of them less relatable

[ceo-of-daichi]

Characters ~ Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Genre ~ Fluff

Word Count ~ 600+

A/N ~ I guess this makes me a multifandom fanfic writer now?👀😂 I know this is very different from what I usually write but I hit Bucky brainrot and just rolled with it! Not gonna tag my taglist because Idk if you like marvel👀 (also i realllyy apologise if this is ooc its my first time writing outside of Hq)

This contains no spoilers to TFATWS, its set between the blip and tfaws!

Tip-Jar☕️

Bucky’s hand cradled the door handle as he debated opening it, knowing that the person on the other side would cheer him up, but there was something stopping him. It could be the fact that his nightmare was so bad that night that he hadn’t really gotten much sleep. Not enough to feel in the mood to socialise anyway.

But it was you. And he would always open the door to you no matter the day, it was a promise he made to himself after the blip, after Steve.

You were one of the only people left that he started to yearn to be around if it was too long, even your weekly visits had started to become too little. He wished to see you more, but today really wasn’t the day.

Clenching his metal fist and letting out a shaky breath he finally opened the door, his knuckles now white from how hard he had been holding the handle without realising.

You had been waiting patiently as you always did, hands full with chinese takeaway and a small smile graced your features. He couldn’t help a small upturn of his own lips as he let you in.

‘You okay Bucky? Didn’t even get a text off you this week?’ You asked first and foremost, your tone full of worry. That was the longest it had taken him to answer the door in a couple of months, you thought therapy was helping but he was haunted by so many demons.

He shook his head and let out a low chuckle, still stood by the door and watched you carefully navigate his small apartment as if you lived there. ‘I can’t say I'm any worse than usual honestly [y/n]...’ He answered as he sat himself down on the couch.

You knew not to pry, if he wanted to talk to you he would. Bucky and you had a strange relationship, most would say, neither of you tended to talk. Both of your presences being enough to satisfy you, there was the occasional comment and joke but other than that, you both sat and ate. Watching whatever flashed before you on the painfully old tv screen and the occasional sideways glance admiring the other.

‘You need a new TV… Honestly how can you not get angry watching this?’ You whine as you spot another pixel not working.

‘This is perfectly fine! You know we used to listen to music and dance when I was younger, that was how you spent evenings with people.’ He smiled at the thought, he missed dancing with random girls that he would know and especially trying to set Steve up with them.

You watched as he was clearly lost in thought, it wasn’t often you got to see him smile like this. Biting your lip to hold back a huge smile you quickly shut off the TV and start to play some slow music on your phone. The music snapped him out of it as he gave you a curious look, but all seemed to connect when you got up and offered him your hand.

He hesitated at first, but a chance to dance with you was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. Placing his hand in yours and his other on your waist you both start to sway around the apartment.

You weren’t doing a particular dance, just enjoying each other's presence as you spun and slowly danced around, your head ending up on Bucky’s chest as relaxation hit in each other's blissful company.

Lost in past memories, past friends, his thoughts flooded with images of him and Steve laughing back when neither of them had joined the military. Your mind flashes back to when you first met Steve and how close you, him and Natasha were, missing your awful game nights where a fight would definitely break out over monopoly or uno.

He was the first to shed a tear, burying his face in your neck trying to ground himself. It didn’t take long for you to follow, suddenly there was no music, there was no apartment. Just you and him stood in each other's arms, holding on for dear life.

[dianapana]

SH Day 3- Addicted to your touch

Day 3 – Addicted to your touch Separation Anxiety

WARNING: MENTAL ILLNESS

Disclaimer: I am not a therapist, the advice I gave in this piece might be very faulty, please take it with a grain of salt.

Modern AU, OOC

@sasuhinamonth

It all started small, when one day Sasuke announced that he’d be gone for 2 weeks due to work, the news alone made Hinata’s heartache but she smiled and wished him good luck on the project and a safe trip. Each day the feeling of missing him would grow and grow and grow until it was too big for her body to contain, and the feeling turned to pain. Her longing made her physically sick by the end of the second week.

The next stage was composed of excessive calls and texts, Hinata constantly needed to know where he was, what he was doing, whenever he’d take too long to reply the longing would come back and she’d either sink into sadness or lose herself to anger, both feelings she had not experienced much since dating Sasuke. Whenever he’d reply after a longer break, she’d ask him to come over to her house and stay the night.

That was the case on August 3rd. Sasuke came straight to her house after a long day at the office and Hinata ran to hug him, all of the negative feelings almost forgotten the moment she laid her eyes on him. His touch alone made all of her worries disappear. That was the feeling of home, in his arms.

They spent the night normally, eating dinner while watching a movie, changing and going to bed because they both had work in the morning. The issue came with the sunrise, for Hinata refused to let him leave. She cried and begged and screamed the moment he brought up work, she tore his shirt apart reasoning that he couldn’t go to work without one. The moment the white fabric hit the ground; silence fell over the room. Both of them were shocked, unable to speak due to her outburst of emotions.

Her cried aggravated, she fell to her knees and crawled to where he was, hugging his waist, apologizing over and over again. Sasuke was in deep thought, remembering all the small signs over the past month and a half. It hurt him to think that he had hurt her in any way to drive her to this moment, he patted her hair lovingly, took a deep breath and said in a broken voice “I think there’s something wrong Hina”

She looked at him with big round eyes, they were glossy and red, she blinked and looked down at the floor. “There might be…” Sasuke picked her up by her armpits and placed her in his lap, continuing to run his hand through her hair. He continued doing so until she calmed down and fell asleep, her emotions must have exhausted her. He didn’t move her from his lap for fear of waking her up, however, he picked up his phone from the nightstand and send Itachi a message telling him that he will not be going to work, he proceeded to text Kurenai as well informing her of Hinata’s absence at work too.

He spent the following few hours reading about similar situations, which mostly led to the same piece of advice, that a specialist was needed. So, he went on to search for therapists in Konoha, texting them all, asking whether any of them were free that day, two of them didn’t reply, another one was full for the week and could only see them next Wednesday, thankfully the last one agreed to meet with them after closing hours at 8:30.

Having all of that plan, all he needed to do was find a way to approach the topic when talking to Hinata, she had to agree that paying a visit to therapy would do them both good. Hinata had been asleep for about two hours now, so Sasuke took the liberty to move her onto her side of the bed and go to the kitchen to make some food for when she’d get up.

He managed to make scrambled eggs and toast and was about to go and wake her up when a cry of distress came from their room. He hurried to her side, Hinata was holding onto his pillow on the verge of tears.

“You weren’t here when I woke up” Her voice was meek and trembling. “I could hear movement in the kitchen, I knew you were there. So why, why does your absence hurt this much, despite me knowing you are here?”

He wished he had the answer, but he didn’t. He moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, cupping her face with one hand, slowly brushing the skin under her eye with his thumb. Sasuke leaned in slowly to hiss her nose, cheek, forehead and finally the corner of her mouth. “I think to find out why, we might need some help from the outside” he closed his eyes and sighed, his breath fanning over her lips. “I talked to a man named Iruka, he’s a therapist and agreed to meet with us later today, would you be open to this idea?”

-------------

Hinata looked at him, searching his eyes and expression for any malice or negative feelings, but there was none, his openness and desire to help led her to agree to his plan, maybe they did need help.

“From what you’ve told me, this is a severe case of separation anxiety,” Iruka said, he looked kind and bore no ill feelings, Hinata had been afraid of the judgmental look he’d give her after hearing about her actions, but his eyes remained warm and understanding. “This usually manifests itself in small children, they are afraid to part from their caregivers even for a moment. In certain cases, it is believed it could appear in pregnant women as well, and usually the caregiver is their partner. Is there any possibility of this being true?”

Both Sasuke and Hinata’s eyes opened wider at the word pregnant, there was most certainly a possibility of that. They were always careful while having sex, however, Hinata was not on birth control, for they affected her badly whenever she took them as a teen so their method of contraception were condoms alone. There’s always the possibility of one breaking, a faulty one, or just them being part of the 0.01% of the population for which condoms did not work perfectly.

-------------

“I suggest you take a pregnancy test as well. As I mentioned, this is known to happen now and again so do not worry too much; however, this anxiety can affect you negatively” Iruka continued while looking at Hinata “the best way to deal with this is steady growth. In the early stages constant contact is preferred. Think of this as building up trust once again. Constant reassurance is important, always keeping promises, separation needs to happen slowly over time; from constant touch to simply being in the same room but at a safe distance, then being in separate rooms, then Hinata being alone but in a familiar and comfortable space for short periods of time. Of course, this process takes months. For some women the anxiety dies down with the birth, for others in continues after but through steady built of trust it can disappear”

They followed Iruka’s advice and went to Hinata’s gyno the next day and Iruka’s assumption proved to be true, Hinata was indeed pregnant in week 7. They were currently in the first stage of their trust-building, being in the same room, always touching. Hinata sat in his lap while they watched a movie, they held hands whenever they were outside, they’d keep bumping feet under the table as they ate. Sasuke had basically moved into her apartment, neither of them went to work. Sasuke was able to do most of his job remotely, however, Hinata applied for medical time off. Everything was going great, Hinata no longer experienced that painful longing, however, her pregnancy turned out to be a quite difficult one, as soon as they found out she was indeed pregnant, her morning sickness started, she had constant back pain and her appetite was very volatile. They’d often wake up in the middle of the night and drive around the city to find one of her cravings. During a particularly bad night 2 months after, her craving for watermelon in the winter proved difficult, to add to the issue her back pain was excruciating so she could not stay in the car for however long it would take them to find watermelon.

“Do you think…you would be all right if you stayed here and I went to find it for you…?” they had barely moved on from the ‘always touching’ stage, the process was slow but it was there.

“I…don’t know…”

“What do you want me to do Hina? You can’t even sit up properly, being in the car for maybe an hour would we awful, but being here alone would too…but it’s unwise to not follow your cravings either” He was spiralling, the situation was stressful and all he wanted was to be able to help her, he wanted to take her pain away, he wanted to give her everything she’d ever want and more.

“I think, I will be fine” Hinata finally said after thinking for a bit longer. Almost in slow motion, he nodded, ‘ok, ok, ok’ he murmured to himself as he put his winter coat over his pyjamas and stood on the bed to put his boots on. “I’ll go find you watermelon, ok? I will be back as soon as I can. I love you” he kissed her cheek and then the top of her head. She smiled and waved, but the moment his back turned to her, her smile wavered. Would she really be ok…?

Sasuke ran down the stairs to the car, he wanted to be away for as little as possible. He pulled out of the driveway and sped up as much as possible. Firstly, he’d look at the local non-stop supermarket, at the ‘exotic’ or ‘out of season’ shelf, if it wasn’t there he’d go to the local Korean market and buy some watermelon flavoured things, just in case there was nothing else anywhere; before he could think of where he’d go next his phone rang. Seeing Hinata’s name he answered immediately.

“come back…please” she was trying not to cry, he could hear it. He did an illegal U-turn and sped even more towards their apartment “I’m coming, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” Hinata replied with an ‘ok’ however she didn’t hang up, she needed to at least be on the line with him. Sasuke didn’t hang up either, not when we pulled into the driveway, not when he stopped the car, nor when he ran up the stairs. He only hung up when Hinata was in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I could, but you left and I…” she was sobbing so hard it was even difficult to understand her. “It’s ok, it’s not your fault, we moved too fast. Iruka said it’s slow. It’s no problem Hina, we can just start over” If her constantly touching him was what made her feel safe, he’d hold her close until she was ready. No more rushing of things. Once Hinata calmed down, Sasuke called Itachi.

“I’m sorry to wake you up but I need some help…could you look for some watermelon?”

[elizabethsharmon]

reblog if you feel disrespected by skam france and demand official apology

below a full list of all the offenses:

Manon going back to Ch*rbage after he emotionally manipulated her to not testify against his brother (who got her drunk, took nudes of her, and kept blackmailing her) because “after all nothing happened = he didn’t r*pe her”

Making Arthur and Alexia a couple in the first place just so he could cheat on her with Noee and lie to her for weeks and then having her break up with him, only for them to suddenly being good friends in s6 and kissing in the last clip (which ngl almost made me throw up)

Bringing up Lucas’ insecurities and abandonment issues but never letting him talk about them with Eliott; posting some damage control posts on instagram instead and pretending like Lucas is fine with Eliott kissing Lola for the film (which he clearly wasn’t, the writers seem to not know him at all)

Wasting time to edit Tiff’s head onto different animals and posting things on that cyberbullying account that no one cared about instead of posting something from the grew + the worst social media ever

Not giving us a proper goodbye to the grew and not really saying anything about their future

Lying to the fans about god knows what we will see in s6 and baiting them to watch even though legit nothing of it happened

Not continuing Arthur’s story in s6 (fine, I don’t really care about that but we were supposed to see it so ???? )

Treating some fans more privileged than the others, giving them spoilers about the new seasons, inviting them on set

FranceTV Slash and SkamLaSerie instas mocking fans in their stories - saying stuff like Lola will cause the break up between Daphne and Basile, “addiction can be useful for flirting” (yikes), creating a ship war between fans in s5 by posting two photos of Alexia/Arthur and Noee/Arthur with a caption “we love them both, we can’t choose”, the host of the live of s6 calling people on tumblr “obsessed” and not apologizing when people said they’re offended by that, blocking people who were asking questions about why the SA was never mentioned again during the live

Liking all the praise but constantly ignoring fans when they were asking questions about writing choices and then blocking them

the rest of 50 offenses under cut cause turns out they really disrespected me more than I thought

feel free to add whatever you want if i forgot about something

None of the girls really apologizing to Imane at the end of season 4 after all they’ve put her through and after they took the side of the racist (who already had a history of drama with Emma) instead of their friend

Taking away Noee’s integrity and making her say “I love you” out loud (which was totally ooc cause an episode earlier she said LSF is her language and she doesn’t like her voice) after Arthur (who was leading her on for weeks) told her they can’t be together

Male gaze in s5 because even though the sign language is a body language, the way camera was lingering on her flat, bare stomach, a few times showing a close up on her boobs during the “song-dance” scene was male gaze

Lack of beautiful, slow-mo, piano music scenes for Alexia with Arthur staring at her awestruck because apparently she’s not worthy enough

Completely sidelining the deaf/hoh storyline in favour of cheating/love triangle plot

Reducing Camille to a translator and randomly making him Mika’s boyfriend because why the hell not

Completely forgetting about Mika and Lisa after s5 (did they ever find that roommate????)

Noee kissing Arthur right after he shared his traumatic story with her and overshadowing domestic abuse with cheating

Absolutely no follow-up about P*trick and domestic abuse after s5 

Having P*trick cheat on Arthur’s mom with Emma’s mom because they’re all one big family

Random crackfic farm episode that didn’t make absolutely ANY sense

Killing Fifi rip [*]

Arthur getting hit by The Car and being perfectly fine the next day

The Boy Squad becoming cheating apologists, Lucas giving Arthur the same advice he gave to Emma in s1 and Yann (who got hurt because of it back then) supporting it

Character regression, especially for Lucas, and the whole boy squad acting out of character

Continuously trying to make Lucas look like a bad guy because they knew we would forgive him everything

Arthur suddenly liking art even though it hasn’t been ever mentioned before and his whole instagram was filled with space related posts

Parallels between Eliott/Lucas and Arthur/Noee

Catherine - or lack of her - aka the queerbait from s3

Completely ignoring character’s birthdays - Basile and Manon (second year in a row)

Not introducing Lola before and making s6 about a complete stranger but still expecting the fans to like her from the get-go and watch the show by baiting the fans with the promise of “unofficial mains” (Daphne and Eliott)

Forcing the Lola/Eliott friendship and selling it in the promo as sister/brother relationship instead of writing it in a way that would make it flow naturally

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Making Lola hook up with much older guys than her over and over again and having one of them s*xually assault just so Eliott could play the hero and save her; never bringing that up again

Making Eliott punch people left and right - anything to protect the ladies, Sofiane punching Ch*rbage in s4 can agree I guess

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Letting Eliott talk about his past and insecurities only so Lola could prey on them later and emotionally manipulate him into drinking

Also Eliott not letting Lola apologize and brushing off her apologies because apparently that was nothing at all and it’s okay to let people walk you over and manipulate you 

Not letting Lucas speak for himself

The whole Lux & Obscurus plot, having Eliott write the film about his and Lucas’ relationship and what his love means to Eliott only to have Lola play in it, not adjusting the script so that it would fit the change and still keeping the Eliott/Lola kiss as a big fuck you to the fandom instead of having it end with a forehead touch and fade to black especially that they haven’t even showed it to us again during the screening of Eliott’s film (but it made all the other couples turned on enough to kiss in that exact moment so maybe it had a purpose) (it didn’t what the fuck was that)

Also acting like Lucas can’t spare a few hours to film it with Eliott cause he has to sTuDy FoR tHe BaC when they were filming it in the middle of a night on Friday, how is that realistic

Not giving Eliott any friends of his own and pretending like he’s a lone wolf even though he’s the biggest sunshine ever and he’s naturally drawn to people; acting like there are no other studens at his film school who could help him film his project so instead he let Lola find random people who knew nothing about filming to help him; having a bunch of random people at the screening of his film and if they were supposed to be his “friends” from the film school then I’m gonna throw hands

Acting like we will see what “minute by minute” really means and “see Eliott like we’ve never seen him before” which never happened

Switching POV for two clips only and they all revolved around Lola because they decided to go with su*cide attempt in episode 9

Also ending that episode with a su*cide note even though the next clip was before midnight on Friday

Giving Lola the worst therapist ever and a really poor attempt at cheering her up from the nurse

Enforcing that “having a loved one” is “the real reason to change” instead of sending the message that you should change for yourself first and foremost and showing that reaching out for professional help is a good thing and can really help you

Acting like ED can be cured by italian cuisine and not mentioning it again for weeks; having Daphne ask Lola not to go to rehab because they have each other and a few clips after that she’s suddenly after her first therapy (love that for her but there’s something huge missing here)

Making Lola’s life a living hell and a misery porn for 10 weeks straight

Making P*trick, Thierry and Lola’s biological dads The Worst (men are trash but it would be nice to see some good parenting on the show)

Giving all the members of La Mif two or three personality traits and not fleshing out their characters

Giving Maya a girlfriend because a season without a love triangle is a waste

Not really developing Mayla well and having their first kiss right after Eliott/Lola cursed kiss as a preemptive damage control to shut us up

Never mentioning why Lola was doing

Wasting a good chunk of the season on Tiff and that insta account and ending it with “she’s addicted to social media”

Giving Yann like one line each season after s3

Reducing Sofiane to the background dancer in s5 and s6

Hating female characters

F/M friendships are only possible if the guy is gay, otherwise cheating always had to be involved

and you know. in general. pretty much everything they did after s3.

[emmettspeakz]

Promppt: Reki and Langa wear skirts and dresses and skateboard cuz they're cute

Hi so I loved the idea of them messing around while wearing skirts and skateboarding so I just did skirts. I hope that’s okay. I had to think of a reason they’d wear the skirts, so this took me a bit. It was definitely cherry’s idea for them to wear them.

I haven’t written a fanfic in a while and this was my first attempt at writing for Langa and Reki, so it might be a bit off/ooc, so I’m sorry about that but I did my best. And of course it had to be gay cuz I mean c’mon. Hope you enjoy <3

“So what are we doing again?” Reki asked as Cherry passed him an article of clothing.

“It’s a form of therapy really,” Cherry said, ignoring the look that Reki gave the skirt, eyeing the piece of clothing in the pink-haired man’s hand like it were a bag of dog poop.

“What, you don’t put on a skirt to feel good about yourself?” Cherry inquired, tossing his hair back.

Reki flashed him an indignant look.

“No, in fact, no I don’t.”

Langa wrapped an arm around Reki’s neck.

“Oh c’mon, it’s a festival thing.” He said, giving Reki a smile.

Reki lowered his head to hide his blush. Since when did Langa look so cute when he smiled? Uncool.

“I’ll even put mine on first,” langa continued, popping into a dressing room.

“It too girly for you or something?” Joe teased Reki, who crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

“No, I mean—“

Cherry gave Reki a stern look.

“Real men wear skirts, kid.” He said, without missing a beat. “Are you gonna support me here or not?”

Reki frowned but snatched the skirt from Cherry’s hand all the same.

“Fine,” He told Cherry. “For my friends.”

The skirt in his hands was long and flowy and almost outrageously bright yellow that matched the sweatshirt Reki was wearing in a way that complimented it, despite the intense brightness of the outfit ensemble.

Langa emerged from the dressing room first, his skirt a soft lavender color that complimented his hair color in such an adoring way that Cherry practically had heart eyes looking at him, as Reki stepped out to admire his friend’s outfit.

“That skirt really makes your eyes pop,” Cherry gushed, leaning over to feel the fabric. “I can’t believe I made it.”

“Looks good, doesn’t it Reki?” Langa asked, his hands on his hips. There Langa went, always asking for his approval. As if he needed to ask. Langa looked good in anything, but of course Reki wasn’t going to point that out to Cherry, especially since Cherry made such an effort to make the outfits for them. Though Reki couldn’t help but blush at Langa, his eyes staring at the flowy skirt.

“Y-yeah,” He stammered. “You look great.”

He turned to Cherry, hoping no one would acknowledge his red face.

“How are we going to skate in a skirt?” He asked. “Any sort of breeze is gonna—“

“Skirts make movements easier,” Cherry explained, placing his feet one by one on Carla. “You have more mobility than you would wearing jeans.” Cherry pointed out, smiling at Reki as he frowned back at him.

“Nice hula skirt Joe!” Langa remarked. “Matches your hair!”

“Matches the jungle you came from, gorilla,” Cherry muttered under his breath.

“I can hear you four eyes!” Joe retorted, getting in Cherry’s face. Cherry glared at Joe as he turned to the two younger boys.

“Let’s go try test them out.” He said, sliding his skateboard out of the back room of clothing store. Joe followed suit, both feet already on his own board.

“Wait for us!” Langa said, grabbing his own skateboard in one hand and dragging Reki along by his arm with the other.

“I don’t care how we do it, I just wanna skate!” Reki agreed, following after Cherry, Joe, and Langa.

The four of them rode along the neighborhood, along bridges and railways, the wind wizzing passed their skirts at angles that showed off Cherry’s lanky legs. Joe would hide his shameful blush with a cool, complicated trick or two, but it was obvious to anyone who paid any attention to him at all that he was smitten. Reki, still somewhat injured from his beef with Adam, was content with watching the other three do more complicated tricks, especially being a bit self-conscious with his body under the skirt. Langa did an impressive leap that rivaled the one at his first beef with Miya, and all Reki could do was gape at him, his skirt billowing out behind him like a sundress. He looked radiant. The other two kept showing off, Cherry playing with his skirt while he did a loop-de-loop with ease, and Joe sped up, his arms out behind him as he went full speed, his skirt flying behind him like a green cape.

The festival started around mid-afternoon and continued well into late evening, the crisp, cool air flowing up their skirts eventually freezing them enough to drive them back to a place where they could change back into pants.

“You warm enough Langa?” Reki asked him, trying to offer the blue-haired boy his sweatshirt as they stood outside of Joe’s restaurant, breathing in the cold, damp night air.

“I’m from Canada remember?” Langa laughed, draping the sweatshirt over reki’s shoulders politely. “I’m used to the cold.” Reki’s face flushed as he put his sweatshirt back on, glad his face was hidden for once. A silly mistake. Of course he knew Langa was from Canada and was used to the cold, but sometimes it felt like Langa had always been here in Japan, had always hung out with him, so sometimes it felt like the snowboarder Langa had been, existed in another life.

“Right...” Reki said, hand on the back of his neck. Langa smiled and held his hand out towards Reki.

“Want me to walk you home?” Langa asked. Reki felt his heart beat fast inside his chest. He smiled at Langa and intertwined his fingers with his. A bold move on his part with two grown men watching them, but neither of them let go.

“Aww, how cute!” Joe teased them before Cherry smacked him over the head with a rolled up magazine.

“They were having a moment, dummy!” Cherry said. Then he turned to the younger boys and said, “Thanks for coming out you two—I mean, shit! You know what I meant! You two have a good rest of your night.”

Dragging Joe along with him as he sheepishly intertwined his pinky finger with Joe’s, The two older men rode off towards their homes.

“We will! It was fun!” Langa said, waving after them with his free hand.

“So, shall we?” Langa inquired. Reki squeezed his hand tentatively then more confidently as he looked down at their connected hands.

“Yes,” He replied, looking up at Langa and smiling. “Take me home.”