#how does one begin to cope with any of that

[umishiqu]

this is a lot so tiny warning in advance but i have a few things;

@ the person in the reblog tags saying that “now Jamil isn’t allowed to have curry” (skip to second paragraph to see my reply to og post), no, kalim literally gets Jamil curry chefs to learn from for his birthday, and Kalim literally goes to a cooking prep just for spice-based dishes (which would include curry). he never explains specifically why Jamil getting a coma through curry = curry is banned, we just assume the only reason is bcuz he is traumatized. it may have something to do with the fact that the spices in the curry make it that much harder for Kalim to figure out if there’s poison or not and that was one mistake he doesn’t plan on making again. and he learnt poison detection at all specifically so jamil didn’t need to taste test for him. projecting ideas onto them that canon already disproved (“kalim banned it and Jamil can’t eat it anymore!!1!”) is part of the problem and why people even emphasize kalim’s trauma at all, to at least get people to start looking at the character truly instead of an idea of them in their heads. i am brown and grew up in a poor family so if you wanna play race olympics too then let’s do this 💪 genuinely i just enjoy kalim more bcuz although both jamil and kalim are dishonest & hypocrites, one of them doesn’t then make it someone else’s (many someones) problem to “truly understand them” despite the dishonesty. kalim gets mad at jamil bcuz jamil isn’t getting what he wants for himself and resorting to smth that made him overblot in book 4, and its how you know kalim is a genuinely selfless person. as someone who’s been in jamil’s position one of these is more tolerable to me esp since the guy doesn’t mind sharing his wealth, and the other is a lot more privileged being in that position than i ever was and still wants more (jamil character song lyrics drop). (emphasizing this, kalim doesn’t correct any of his siblings when they call him nii-sama, but jamil gets to use only kalim’s name)

back to the actual post. i think people brush over the fact that kalim learnt how to detect poisons himself without Jamil needing to taste test for poison all the time. which is why, again, people are saying to pay attention to the fact that it’s Kalim who is the target of being poisoned and not Jamil. talking about jamil’s lack of understanding isn’t about his lack of sympathy (although this is something that makes me feel less sympathetic, not of his situation but in general, bcuz you do reap what you sow). it’s his lack of understanding of Kalim’s skills (ie saying in book 5 that there’s no way Kalim would be able to detect a magic curse used as poison for a murder attempt … until that’s exactly what he does with vil) (and it’s bcuz he pays attention to people that he was able to do this) (also in kalim’s lab cost where jamil says he couldn’t possibly make the meals in a day) (until… bcuz ruggie had kalim’s help that’s exactly what happened) (and before you say “but Jamil vocalized this!” jamil vocalizes a lot of things that are or aren’t true and kalim has the patience of a saint to not have punched him over the dorm leader thing in book 4 when Kalim had asked him about it all the way in the beginning of the year in his ceremony robes. he even gets upset with Jamil bcuz Jamil keeps calling him stupid and still expects him to sort all the mixed messages of what Jamil rly wants) (despite this kalim genuinely wants to try to figure it out with the real jamil, the one who isn’t honest - hard path to good results is the Scarabia way)

like yeah jamil doesn’t have sympathy for Kalim, this is a fact; he along with Kalim’s dad are the two people who basically told Kalim to suck it up bcuz it’s his fate. he doesn’t cope with it in the way Jamil wants him to, but people confuse kindness for carelessness, which is Jamil’s problem bcuz Kalim’s kindness protects + helps Kalim, and kalim was told to just cope when it came to his (emphasizing on his) fate and has taken precautions himself to make sure he isn’t poisoned. and there is a difference between his kindness and carelessness - like Kalim yelling at Vil over trying to poison Neige in the moment (and Jamil still finds a way to make it about Kalim being careless which Kalim almost yells at him for too, but just thanks him afterwards for saving them) or Kalim yelling at Jade for saying OB group could possibly be dead. and with the way the Asim family raised kalim (to be isolated - he couldn’t even go to middle school even though Jamil was able to attend), it’s also why i don’t think jamil is supposed to be taste testing Kalim’s food

i think a lot of people misconstrue what was actually enforced on Jamil in terms of his servitude to kalim vs what we think. in Jade’s Halloween story the adults yell at a younger Jamil for cooking bcuz “children aren’t supposed to cook with fire”. there’s a really weird emphasis on safety there when everything else suggests that they didn’t care about jamil. eventually, he did take on this task, but when and how wasn’t specified. it makes sense, since his backstory mainly shows his parents telling Jamil to be second to Kalim in everything, but nothing else - not even from the Asim family. we never question why jamil didn’t have trauma from being poisoned by curry or why smth like this wasn’t a part of his woes in his backstory. i think it’s fair to assume that he just didn’t regret choosing to do it, like how he’ll never regret choosing to protect kalim (and says that Azul mischaracterized Jamil in book 7 bcuz Kalim made the contract with Azul, which Jamil wouldn’t have let happen). not to deny it shaped his identity and what lengths Jamil himself will go to to get things done, but again his problems with kalim were about him having to be second to Kalim in everything bcuz of jamil’s parents, and Kalim’s seeming lack of care for it (it’s implied in book 4 jamil backstory that Jamil was expecting Kalim to notice but kept on getting blindsided by him and dropped his expectations) (doesn’t help that he normally sees Kalim as useless and unskilled) (in the same vein, it also doesn’t help that Jamil simultaneously wants to show his skill and vocalizes getting less work at the same time) (bcuz kalim was always trying to look for ways to help jamil even before book 4 but again - mixed messages. does he want to be voluntold to show his skills or does he want to rely on someone to help him? does he want both at the same time? does he want it with people other than kalim? lots of kalim’s interactions with jamil involved kalim trying to answer these questions but it goes under the radar. when kalim isn’t hypnotized in book 4 he’s still trying.)

he does hate Kalim’s lack of care for their situation, but like alab nariya moment where kalim stalking Jamil doesn’t register to Jamil as “this is a problem because this is a crime” but “this is a problem because Kalim used his power to be able to do it” (and cater is the one who takes a double take at this and mentions the priority), it has everything to do with Kalim’s exercise of privilege and not what it means to Jamil. (which is also why, despite knowing Kalim was raised to be forgiving and to have a “suck it up” attitude when it comes to people who harm him, and Jamil actively complains about it) (even tho he was one of two people who encouraged it haha…) (Jamil still believed he and his family would get thrown out if he did the slightest thing wrong against Kalim) (and this in itself is also bcuz Jamil didn’t understand why the adults wanted to curry Kalim’s favour so badly bcuz he’s useless af. there is no other option in his mind except that there would be a horrible punishment awaiting if they don’t) (“who would want to be your friend voluntarily??” -> this question gets answered later). there is def the question of why jamil’s priorities are like this but ill leave that for others to talk abt.

also kalim also went into a coma! i… i can’t believe i have to say this… tunnel vision is real. (see 4-7) the book does also touch on the curry incident, but its vague on whether these two happened at the same. it does help that kalim says “it was only found in my food”. he really wanted to emphasize jamil’s suffering and ignore his own, so he was vague - like usual - but eng version does clear this up that they both went comatose bcuz its harder for Kalim to be vaguer about it) (and kalim prioritizing other people and debasing himself and his feelings for other people, despite what they do to him, including forgiving them, is what Azul says Jamil most likely finds annoying) (but kalim will also do this to support jamil) (and hey book 7 also expanded on this to emphasize that Kalim forgiving people is a choice and not something he always wants to do) (like ofc he has privilege but he can’t change that? it’s not like money = evil and kind of money but not rly = good. how he chooses to use it is what matters. if you want him to learn to punish people over what they do to him bcuz it’ll make Jamil’s life easier, then jamil would not have gotten the same outcome when it comes to consequences as in game) (and he still would have been pushed to do a book 4 anyway, even if kalim was more punishing! bcuz the problem isn’t Jamil taste testing for kalim but again his parents telling him to come second to him in everything) (which now I’m wondering if people actually want kalim to do it, not bcuz it makes sense to kalim’s character, but to affirm jamil’s perspective… interesting meta conversation that just annoys me bcuz it’s also why people like talking abt kalim not knowing how to do anything and then leave him at that instead of seeing his development and the earnestness that the game explicitly talks about multiple times that motivates him to improve) anyway, like Kalim tells Jamil, he didn’t do anything else to Jamil after book 4 bcuz he likes interesting people and the variety of people at NRC.

anyway to end off. they both can be unreliable narrators but it just so happens that kalim (used to be) an unreliable narrator in the “i will affirm and support everything Jamil does” direction, while Jamil is… the exact same with kalim except his gets dismantled explicitly by the narrative multiple times, even before book 4, because ultimately it is jamil’s story. does perspective=truth? not rly esp when Jamil contradicts himself… a lot lmao. still wrapping my head around him complaining about how forgiving kalim is and somehow not registering that applying to Jamil coming first sometimes too (that’s bcuz the only people giving him consequences for it are jamil’s parents and he thought they were an extension of the actual rules) (Futaba did call Jamil a clumsy person…)

so i really hope people actually read all of this + go to the stories to confirm for themselves instead of seeing one word they don’t like and creating a problem from it bcuz yes. the vignettes + events outside of book 4 does explain some of their situation well and doesn’t leave things that ambiguous…

thinking abt jamil and kalim today. i don't like when ppl say kalim's life isn't really that great in a way jamil doesn't see and if only jamil could understand that then he wouldn't be so resentful of kalim's privilege. like my opinion is that No that's exactly Why jamil's resentful actually. jamil Sees the ways that kalim's life sucks. but he just does not have a lot of sympathy for kalim because he goes through those situations with kalim, and he sees the difference that comes with the level of privilege kalim wields. and to him that makes those struggles kind of laughable in comparison to his own.

like yeah kalim has had attempts on his life and still sits and eats at the same table as people who try to poison him . and nobody is denying that having people you know trying to assassinate you isn't traumatic. but also like canonically who do you think is most at risk of consuming that poison. Kalim??? or his POISON TESTER. jamils eating at that exact same table And he sure as fuck is not forgiving that assassin the same way kalim is able to because He has to make sure kalim's stupid forgiving nature doesn't open up the perfect avenue for this guy to try murder Again. kalim has the privilege to forgive this guy and be gracious JAMIL DOES NOT!!!!

another great example is the reason behind why kalim doesn't like to eat curry. poisoned curry sent jamil into a coma and kalim got distressed about it. Obviously this is traumatic for kalim . but you know . Who else . It would affect...... THE GUY IN THE FUCKING COMA....? kalim has the privilege to say "I never want to eat curry again because it sent Jamil into a coma" and it's just Done because he's the boss. jamil Does Not have the privilege to say "I don't want to poison test kalim's food again because it sent Me into a coma" because he has to serve kalim. and it doesn't matter what jamils personal feelings are on curry even though he was the one who GOT POISONED BY IT. do you get it now. is it clicking

[leavesonthetrees]

Tea is at Four

Summary - Bilbo stands in the doorway of Bag End, one last time.

A/N: I’m really sorry, I feel like I need to preemptively apologise for this one. Please let me know if it made you feel anything, I did in fact cry writing this.

Today was a happy occasion for Bilbo Baggins, of course, it is not every day it is your 111th birthday! Frodo is down at the Party Tree with his best friend Samwise Gamgee, a kind young man with Frodo’s best interests at heart. Not entirely necessary of course as his dearest nephew is of age and is more than capable of taking care of himself but you can hardly blame a senile old hobbit for worrying.

Bilbo stands in the doorway of Bag End at the end of Bag Shot Row, knowing it is the last time he will walk these floorboards, warm his feet in front of the fireplace, make a scrumptious pot of tea in that kitchen, tend to his flowers in the garden. From here, while his eyesight is beginning to go, he can still see the acorn tree before the tears blur his vision. Oh Yavanna, how many years has it been? 60 whole years since he ran out that door, the ink still drying on the crinkled parchment of his contract as he flew past his stunned neighbours, past prying eyes and gossiping biddies to the most brilliant adventure of a lifetime.

Until it wasn’t. Thorin lies cold and unmoving in his trembling hands with Bilbo praying to every deity he could think of that this was all a bad dream. He notices drops of rain landing on Thorin’s cheeks, wiping the wetness away in a futile attempt, only to realise they are his tears. It is only when Dwalin places a hand on his shoulder can he tear his eyes from that pale face, raising himself on shaky, numb legs to walk back to camp. Alone.

The blows keep coming. What does Balin mean Dain shall be King Under the Mountain? Fili is Crown Prince, should he not be next in line? He would have been if his heart still beat in his chest. The grief is not earth-shattering like how he knows his dwarves are describing it. Instead, he feels as if he is walking through Hobbiton in the evening, each light in the windows turning off in preparation for bed, the quiet of the night creeping in around him until he stands back in the doorway of Bag End, all of his belongings, gone. Alone.

Once Thorin, Fili and Kili are laid to rest in the halls of their forebears, he leaves. They are barely within the stone when Bilbo packs his things and stands at the gates. He clears his throat, rocking on his feet slightly as he gives them all a watery smile.

“If any of you are ever passing Bag End, tea is at four. There’s plenty of it. You are welcome anytime.” Bilbo swallows, hard. Proper hobbit manners kick in once again and the treacherous tears remain at bay but his smile becomes a little more real at the memory.

“Don’t bother knocking.”

By the time Bilbo feels ready to look at the acorn again, he wonders if it shall ever grow, kept in the pocket of a Durin blue coat which is folded in a chest on top of a vest made of mithril. Sometimes he swears in the darker evenings that he can hear a baritone humming that same song he heard many moons ago; but every time he runs to look, the fire just crackles in the grate as if to say ‘You are seeing ghosts, Burglar.” But it does grow, a sweet little sprout into a strong sapling and from there into a magnificent oak tree; on some days he thinks he can hear Fili and Kili’s laughter whistling through the leaves on the wind.

But with the little acorn from Beorn’s house, all the way from half across the world, Bilbo too grows. The grief that used to make the world seem so grey evolves…well it doesn’t evolve but Bilbo learns to cope. By putting one foot in front of the other, Bilbo keeps going and the day that a young faunt by the name of Frodo arrives on his doorstep; suddenly that lonely walk doesn’t seem as lonely anymore. He finds the smiles aren’t as strained anymore, they reach his eyes again when little hands covered in dirt come running into the smial with an “Uncle Bilbo! Uncle Bilbo! Look! A snail!”

There is but one thing. Bilbo spends hours hovering in his kitchen, checking, double-checking and checking again for a floppy hat, an ear trumpet, a set of axes. He always keeps his pantry stocked full in case of any surprise visitors of the dwarven variety. For years he makes an extra cup or two in the pot of tea and a fruit tart on the table. He craves that knock at the door like all those years ago like the need to breathe, to have Dwalin standing there in his green cloak, to have Balin commenting on the rain. It never comes. He tells himself at first they have forgotten him but he knows deep down it is the same reason he cannot bring himself to go back to Erebor again. Over and over again he says he has responsibilities and later, a duty of care to Frodo. ‘That didn’t stop you the first time’ a voice like Gandalf’s says. Neither side visits because they cannot face each other knowing their company is incomplete.

Bilbo’s hand, gnarled and wrinkled from old age grips the door frame as the weight of the grief threatens to buckle his knees. The other goes to cover his mouth, to stifle the noise or perhaps an attempt to physically tamp the feelings down. After all, today is his 111th birthday and that only comes once you know.

[miametropolis]

the fact that david tennant married the woman who played his daughter on the TV still haunts me occasionally (this is nothing against georgia, we love georgia) but the thing that makes me sit up at night in a cold sweat is the fact that his FATHER IN LAW is the fifth doctor. imagine your fucking father-in-law is Doctor Who. anyways.

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”

The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asking.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[batlovebites]

Thinking about how the beasts would deal with a mortal partner's mortality catching up to them. Here's some quick thoughts on that.

Content Warning: death (via old age or sickness) and murder (because these guys do not handle it well.)

Shadow Milk seems like the one who deals with the idea of his partner's mortality the best, up until his partner is on death's door- if its sickness, he'll stop at nothing to find a way to cure it. If its age, though...

I think he'd try to find a way to make his partner immortal, too. But when that fails, I think he'd immortalize them as a puppet. Its not the real them, no, but its them from before age started to take them from him. Its them in whatever the 'best' period of their life was.

After they pass he uses it to cope but he has to control the simulacrum's actions so it actually just makes him feel worse because its obviously not them. It looks like what they looked like at one point, it acts how he remembers them acting, but how he remembers them isn't the same as how they actually were. But he doesn't stop because he'd rather try to convince himself of the lie they're still around than live with the truth that they're gone.

The illusion/puppet he makes progressively becomes less and less convincing as his memories are altered and exaggerated with time and repetition. In their absence, Shadow Milk starts to glorify them in his memory, completely disregarding any of their flaws or negative aspects that made them an actual full person; Which then makes the puppet act progressively less and less how they actually did.

Eventually probably disregards the simulacrum as its no longer even slightly convincing. But sometimes, when he thinks about them again and his heart starts aching, he conjures it up again to try to live the lie that they're still here again, just for a little bit longer. It always falls apart again, but there's brief moments where he can almost convince himself, so he keeps doing it.

Burning Spice is. Complicated! Would also want to make his partner immortal probably, but if that's proven to be impossible... I think he 'mercy' kills them, before age can affect them too much. When their hands start shaking, their memory begins to slip, their body slowly turning to dust beneath them, so slow they can hardly tell its happening- but Burning Spice has seen time claim a hundred thousand lives before, and can see it happening to them all too clearly.

Burning Spice doesn't want to let time take his partner from him, so he does it himself. Having control over their demise makes him feel better about it, if only slightly. Doesn't let them know its going to happen, because he wants their last memory of him to be pleasant. Just embraces them- and then promptly snaps their neck. Quick. Painless. Over before they could ever even know it happened.

He does view it as an actual mercy in a way, but its mostly a matter of him needing to feel like he was in control of when and how they died as opposed to them being taken from him. Change and destruction is his domain, he does not like it when those things are happening beyond his control, so he takes control of the situation himself.

Burning Spice is also quick to redirect any other emotion into anger because that's easier to manage, so the stages of grief he goes through are all just filtered directly into Anger and used as fuel to destroy more things. No one else would even be able to tell he's mourning at all, but deep down, he is, even though he doesn't want to. He's seen this happen over and over again, it shouldn't affect him anymore. He's angry at himself for letting it affect him. For letting himself grow attached to something- someone- he knew would be nothing but ash beneath his feet within a century in the first place. And yet...

Mystic Flour would perhaps put some effort in looking into how to make her partner immortal, just so that they could see everything else be reduced to flour with her before they both also were reduced to nothing. But she's not too torn up about it if unable to.

She starts to treat her aging partner as if they were already dead at a certain point, which certainly doesn't feel great for them. Comforting them about their inevitable and rapidly approaching fate is not a very nice thing to hear when they are currently still alive, probably have at least a few years of life left in them, and would probably like to enjoy those last few years rather than just think about their approaching death the whole time.

If their old age comes with any particularly high amounts of pain or memory loss, she's likely to speed up the process as a 'mercy'; Inflicting them with the Pale Ailment, which kills them within the day.

The whole day she holds and comforts them until they are reduced to flour, telling them soon they will feel nothing- no joy, yes, but also no pain. That there's nothing to fear. She sits there for a little longer after they're gone, still speaking comfort. Then she gets up and leaves; She feels nothing about it. Nothing at all.

Yet... a part of her, buried deep under layers of apathy, does wish they had lasted longer. Been at her side to see the rest of the world be reduced to flour first. Oh well.

Also, while I can't give proper thoughts until she's released, I think Eternal Sugar would probably Sleeping-Beauty her partner. Lock them in an eternal rest where they're basically dead, but their body does not age or rot further, and they're technically still breathing, so its like they're still there with her! (<- Coping extremely hard.)

[fizz-pop-thwip]

I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.

To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.

Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.

You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?

How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?

When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.

The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.

Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.

He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.

Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.

He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.

Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.

He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.

He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!

He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.

Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi guys!

Okay so I've gotten a lot of asks about JKR, since she's been extra terfy lately. ( @lonely-parrot @mushroom-enby and many anons) Basically asking me what I think about the marauders fandom, talking to people about it, etc.

I think that we have to acknowledge that being part of the Marauders fandom does cause some harm.

Why? Because we are, however unwillingly, talking about and giving popularity to characters created by a horribly bigoted and harmful person.

We can't just stick our heads in the sand and pretend that isn't true. Not in the days of algorithms that respond every time you search 'Sirius Black.'

However, I also think this fandom, and fandom in general, has been helpful to many queer people in ways I can't even begin to describe. For so many queer people, fanfiction and fandom is where you begin to explore those feelings you think are 'weird' or 'different,' and the people you meet through fandom are the first people you meet like you. The way characters are depicted in fanfiction can be the first time you see a character that you truly relate to, and I know that I am not exaggerating when I say I owe my life to fanfic writers, because I used it as a coping mechanism as a teen when I had nobody to talk to at all.

I think that we just have to be conscious of consuming fandom, especially Harry Potter fandom, ethically. And I have to say that I am NOT perfect at this. I have been to the Harry Potter theme park. I own Harry Potter merch. In my childhood, my entire Christmas list was Harry Potter things. So please know that I'm not speaking from some holier-than-thou position here.

But as things get worse and worse, we need to be even more conscious about what we are consuming, and how we are consuming it.

So here's my opinion on things we need to do:

Do not consume any new content by or related to JKR. This includes the new TV show.

If you want old content (the books), buy them secondhand. Do not give your money to the bookstores that give money to her. Give back to local secondhand shops.

Etsy has a lot of amazing independent artist-created merch, look there!

When people talk about the books, do NOT shrink away from their flaws. Mention them. Talk about the issues. Talk about the house elves and the goblins and the ridiculously racist names.

Same with JKR. When people talk about the books, the TV show, the videogame, etc, TALK about JKR's transgressions. Don't let people be willfully ignorant.

Make fandom a safe space. The world is an awful place right now and I think one of the reasons I, personally, am okay with being part of this fandom is because it is a safe place for me and so many others. DO NOT change that by becoming part of the problem and spewing hate. Cut the shit with the ship wars and the transphobia and the 'I don't like when writers...' Just stop.

Keep making your characters gay. And trans. And ace. And POC. And all of the things JKR is so scared of.

Yeah. These are just my thoughts. Feel free to comment (politely) below!

[dragonsondragons]

Prologue - Hard To Resist | You Should Probably Leave series

In which Jack’s therapist challenges him to enjoy the daytime and he admits he has a work crush.

Content: yearning!jack, medical social worker!reader, reader is Jack’s work crush, slow burn, tons of therapy, working through trauma, Jack on his #healingjourney, angst, unspecified age gap. 

Word Count: 2.1k

Authors Note: Enjoy the first little snippet of this story! This part is solely Abbot's POV during a therapy session, but next part we will see him interacting with reader and the rest of the Pitt crew. Yay! Let the yearning begin, hope you enjoy :) This series is based on the song You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton, I would highly recommend giving it a listen before/while reading.

(I thought this gif from Chicago PD was so Jack at his therapists office lol)

[Next part] [Masterlist]

Jack’s therapist had recommended that he try to get more comfortable in the daytime. His relative ease in the darkness of the night was a useful coping mechanism for a time, she explained to him one session, but he didn't have to be in fight mode anymore. She was encouraging him to seek out safety and connection in the daytime so that his past had less control over his present. 

Jack had scoffed when she said that. Because what else does his past do than rear its ugly head every moment of every day? And did he even want to forget it? All of those soldiers he couldn’t save? They deserved to be remembered. 

“This isn’t about forgetting them,” she reminded him, “but rather processing your past experiences so that they are less distressing in the present. Putting yourself outside of your comfort zone of the night could be empowering. It could give you enough space to hold those people with you and move forward living as full of a life as you can. In their honor.”

“In their honor,” Jack echoed, mulling it over. He could do that. He wanted to do that. Move forward. That’s why he was doing all this work in therapy. But one thing he had come to find out, is that actually changing is a lot harder than knowing you want to. 

“Any ideas on what could be your first attempt at enjoying the daytime? Maybe some sort of social interaction,” she led him with her question. Her and Jack had talked about the power of improving social bonds before, how they can create community and give someone a deeper experience of life. Jack promised to give it a try but admittedly doesn't follow through much on that one. Jack didn’t really want a deeper experience of life if that meant opening yourself up to feeling all the pain that comes along with it more deeply, too.

“I don’t know, doc. I don't have many friends.” 

“Outside of work, you mean?” she said, surprised at his statement. He spoke of his coworkers all the time, they seemed plenty friendly.

“Well…there’s Robby. We hang out outside of work.” By that, he means that they push each other around at beer league hockey when their work schedules allow it and then grab a beer after. Other than that, their main points of interaction are admittedly at work, often on the roof of PTMC. 

“Yes, there’s Robby. But that's not exactly out of your comfort zone. That's pretty firmly within it from what I know.” Jack was silent, not keeping eye contact like he usually does. She could see there was something he wasn’t letting on. She never forced Jack to talk about anything he wasn’t ready to. That's something he appreciated about his therapist. But she also knew when she could push him a little bit. “Anyone else, then?” He’s silent again. She let it simmer, waiting for him to fill the gaps.

“There’s someone I work with,” Jack blurts out, his ears turning red. His knee was bouncing up and down. 

Your face flashed in his mind and he wrung his hands together. Jack was usually good at composure, but he found himself starting to crumble at the mere thought of you.

“You seem a little nervous. Care to tell me more about this someone?”

“Uh, well…yeah, she makes me a little nervous sometimes. But mostly she calms me down.” He wasn’t letting on much.

“Hmm, what about her calms you down?” his therapist hummed, encouraging him to continue.

“She's a social worker in the ED. Smart, caring, great at what she does,” he rambles. “We eat lunch together sometimes. If the timing works out on shift. When I'm having a shitty time at work… sometimes she makes me feel better. Just her being there.” He thinks about your knee brushing against his under the table after he made you laugh. Some stupid story about a guy who broke his femur literally slipping on a banana peel.

“So what about her makes you nervous then, if she makes you feel better?” 

“I mean– she's beautiful, that's mostly what makes me nervous.”

I can’t believe I just said all that, he facepalms internally. With all the respressing Jack does, sometimes a feeling will just catch up to him out of nowhere. There are a lot of things he used to distract himself throughout the day. From working in the ED or drowning out the silence at home with the police scanner, to working out until his whole body ached and volunteering at the VA. But there was never enough to fully distract him, eventually whatever it was he was trying to prevent floats to the surface.

After losing his wife years ago, after losing his brothers in a desert overseas, Jack had played it pretty close to the chest with his feelings. If he doesn't show his emotions, even to himself, then he could try to pretend they don’t exist. That the pain doesn’t exist. 

But that's why he’s in therapy, because the pain still very much exists. And one day he finally realized he couldn’t go on any longer without doing something about it. That was more than a year ago now. 

For this to work, you have to be honest with me, he remembers his therapist saying in their first session. But most importantly you have to be honest with yourself.  

If he’s being real honest with himself, he likes you. He had barely even admitted it to himself before today, but god he likes you. And with each day you were getting harder and harder for him to resist. 

Now, he had practically announced the crush to his therapist. Admitting out loud that he has some type of feelings for you made him more nervous than anything else. He couldn’t deny it now. Time to be honest.

“Maybe you should invite her to do something with you,” she proposes with a knowing look. 

“I don't know if that would be a good idea,” Jack says earnestly. Maybe he had admitted the crush but that doesn't mean he was ready to do something about it. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because she probably doesn't want anything to do with this,” he gestures around himself vigorously, slightly worked up. “I’m a little fucked up, and scary, I guess… I’ve heard people say.” And old, he thinks to himself, too old for her at least.

“Did she tell you she wants nothing to do with you?”

“No.”

“Then you don't know that. You said you eat lunch together. If she chooses to spend her valuable break time with you she likely enjoys being around you.” His face is full of apprehension. “You’re allowed to let yourself have good things, Jack.”

“There’s this part of me that wants to believe that,” he admits quietly. He’s opened this door now and there’s no closing it. He can’t help being drawn to you anymore. “But there's also a louder part of me screaming run.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, head hanging and taking a deep sigh.

“Remember that the brain’s automatic response is not always logical. Sometimes the loudest voice is actually the most illogical. And if you listen to it, it can cause you to spiral.”

“I've been thinking about that one, doc. I’ve been trying. To stop the spiral.” That’s one of the biggest challenges for him. To not let flashes of dark moments spiral into a category five hurricane. To take back his agency over his thoughts.  

“Good. How is it going?” He blows out a long breath, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Not so great. For a long time, my automatic thoughts,” he puts up air quotes around the phrase, “My instincts, they saved my life. Saved other guys lives in the med tent. So it's kinda hard to rewrite that pathway.” A lot of the time, he couldn't help but feel like ordinary decisions still meant life or death. So much anxiety had built up inside him that it felt like if he chose the wrong thing at the grocery store a bomb would explode.

“You’re not at war anymore though, Jack. Letting yourself enjoy this woman’s presence in your life won’t get anyone killed.” 

“Yeah.” Again, he’s quiet, remembering. 

“Part of processing is not letting past trauma control the now. Remember, things can be different this time. You’re encountering a whole different set of challenges in the present that don’t always require the tools of the past.”

“My shrink, always so wise,” Jack jokes.

“I asked you not to call me that,” she scolds him.

“Sorry, got a lot I'm working on at the moment.”

This gets his therapist to crack a smile, glancing down at her watch. “Time to wrap up. Keep working at that– making the choice to challenge your automatic thoughts. What's important is that you try to recognize them as they pop up and inquire as to why you may think that it’s true. It takes time and repetition, but you’ll get there. You’re doing well, really.” 

“Thanks, doc.”

“And don't forget your homework. To do something out during the daytime. Not errands or the gym, but something you’ll have fun doing.”  Jack rolls his eyes. She must really think I'm a snooze fest, he thinks.

“I know you can have fun, Jack. You’re human, just like the rest of us.” Sometimes he felt like a cyborg forged for war that would never be wired for civilian life ever again. But that’s all he was now, a civilian. A doctor. Not a cyborg, just a man. Through the sludge of his past– all that he’s seen and felt– what he has to do now is figure out how to live again. Too many years have passed him by in a haze.

“Whatever you say doc.” He does a loose salute with his fingers as he gets up from his chair to exit her office. “See ya next week.”

“See you then,” she responds, scribbling down notes from the session as he steps out the door.

“Oh!” she yells after him. “And I’ll give you extra credit if the fun involves this woman from work.” 

Jack only scoffed in response, then blushed in the elevator all the way back down to the lobby.  

————

Driving from his therapist’s office to the pit, he brainstormed what he could do for his “daylight assignment”. Just the thought of it was setting him on edge. All of the people and noises and atrocities that happen while everyone is awake. He’d do whatever this is in the day time, sure. But firmly in the afternoon so that the comfort of night would come soon enough and greet him, he decided. 

He wants it at his own house too, in his own space, to help dull the anxiety inside him. That would have to mean inviting people over. At least it would be people he chooses to invite, another element he could control. Robby, Dana, Shen, Ellis— they knew Jack, didn't expect too much from him. 

Then there was you. You who had boundless empathy for any patient that walked in the door and extensive knowledge of any resources that could help them. He admired your commitment to the patients and their families, in supporting people outside of just their medical needs. And of course, you radiate beauty like a goddamn emergency department Snow White. 

Your presence simply made Jack feel at ease, and in a place like the Pitt that was a very welcome feeling. But as much as he craved it, Jack was not used to feeling at ease. Eventually, his mind would rebel and tell him to retreat; that the peace was too good to be true. He couldn’t let himself have this. It was too risky. He had to resist.

Automatic thought! He warned himself. Ugh. Jack was tired. Tired of having to be so vigilant even inside his own head. Tired of whatever devil was on his shoulder always whispering in his ear. No, not whispering. Yelling. His therapist was right, the thoughts were loud. What had she said? Inquire why you think these thoughts may be true, he recalls. 

Why does he think he has to resist? Because everything good he’s ever had falls apart. Usually he was the one who ripped it apart. Never on purpose, just through being who he was, who life and war had made him.

Things could be different this time, Jack reminds himself, drumming his thumbs over the steering wheel. He sighs deeply, groans.

As much as he was spooked by the revelation that he couldn't contain his desire for you so well anymore, he was also enflamed by it. He wanted an angel on his shoulder. He wanted you. 

The voice inside of him saying that wasn’t harshly yelling, there were no flashing lights or sirens. It was steady, calm, all encompassing. And pure warmth. Maybe that’s how he can tell it's the right voice to listen to. 

Fuck it. He decided. I’m gonna throw a party and she’s gonna be the goddamn guest of honor. 

[harunayuuka2060]

*Vil looked at MC with a serious expression. Trey and Jade were bound to their seats by rose vines—though in Jade’s case, he was almost entirely swallowed by them, with only his nose left exposed so he could breathe.

Trey: Hey... Isn't this a bit too much?

Jade: *muffled sounds*

MC: Do forgive my caution—I'm all too aware of what the esteemed vice dorm leaders of Heartslabyul and Octavinelle are capable of. Surely, you can’t fault me for being just a little… *smiles* vigilant.

Vil: ...

Vil: Are you implying that you're not threatened by me?

MC: *chuckles* You're free to interpret it however you wish.

Vil: Why you—

*MC set four distinct cocktails before him, each glass glistening under the dim lighting. As the mingled aromas of citrus and spirits wafted toward him, Vil's nose wrinkled in distaste, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval.*

MC: I'd be honored if you'd join me, Vil.

Vil: *suspicious* An offer?

MC: Think of it as a simple game. You must guess which of these cocktails is poisoned and offer it to me. If you're right, I'll let you leave this place. But if you're wrong… I'll shatter this shard—

MC: *holds up the mirror shard, nearly identical to the one Leona had* —and you'll be trapped here with me.

Vil: What…? That doesn’t make any sense. If I win and you end up drinking the poison, you’ll—

MC: Sympathy is a luxury you can't afford right now, Vil. *smiles at him softly*

Vil: ...

Leona: Jack, stop it.

Jack: *has been trying to get back in but to no avail*

Jack: I shouldn't have left!

Ruggie: Correction: You were thrown out.

Floyd: I wonder what Jade's doing. I guess he's doing a lousy job if he isn't here yet.

Riddle: ...

Cater: Are you worried about Trey-kun, Riddle?

Riddle: No, I’m sure he’s doing his best in this situation.

Ace: Yeah, Trey-senpai is going to be fine. But... Jack?

Jack: What?

Ace: What does this MC look like? Are they hot?

Jack: Huh?

Epel: Are you being serious right now?

Ace: *pouts* What? I'm just curious.

Cater: I get you, Acey-kun. This is how you cope.

Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek: ...

Sebek: My liege, with five still unaccounted for, I humbly propose we start immediately.

Lilia: Leona initiated the group arrangements by integrating members across dorms. It would be improper for us to deviate from this system now.

Sebek: Well...

Silver: And we have to ensure the others are safe before we proceed.

Sebek: ...

Malleus: Be patient, Sebek.

Sebek: Yes, Waka-sama...

MC: Have you made your choice?

Vil: ...

Trey: Is there any hint?

Jade: *muffled sound*

Vil: ...

Vil: MC.

MC: *smiles* Yes?

Vil: Should I assume all these cocktails are laced with poison?

Trey: Huh?

MC: ...

MC: *chuckles* If that's the case, why not use it to your advantage? I won’t be altering the rule I’ve set.

Vil: ...

Vil: From the very beginning, you had no intention of trapping us. If you did, you wouldn’t have proposed this senseless game. You control this place—you could’ve had us in the palm of your hand if you wanted to.

Trey and Jade: ...

Trey: *his gaze softened at MC* You planned on losing?

MC: ...

MC: Ah. Caught red-handed, it seems. *a wry smile flickers across their face as they casually select a cocktail—then drinks it without hesitation*

Trey and Vil: !!!

MC: *smiles and leans in close to Vil, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead while discreetly slipping the mirror shard into his hand*

Vil: Potato—

MC: Does this remind you of that day? *chuckles*

Vil, Trey, and Jade: ...

Leona: How is it?

Vil: I have it...

Trey: ...

Azul: Jade?

Jade: ...The details are not mine to share.

Trey: ... *sigh*

The others: ...

Idia: I'm getting scared now, what the heck...

[chosows]

"AM I DOING GOOD?"

YOUR OBSESSED LOSER BOYFRIEND

Choso x Fem Reader

Summary: Choso just can’t seem to get enough of you. To him, you’re the only woman worthy of his time—the only woman he’ll ever look at so intimately. When you’re at work, he struggles to cope with your lack of company, becoming desperate for your attention when you aren’t around. Every day he awaits your return impatiently—craving your familiar touch.

Word count: 2.5k

Contains: Submissive Choso, established relationship, masturbation, interrupted masturbation, begging, teasing, no protection, penetrative, cowgirl, missionary, cumshots, creampie

Audio: i based this on this audio from a request. full credits to the VA for inspo

Note: need to write more one shots like this ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Left alone in the bedroom, Choso grumbles. The past few hours have been spent aimlessly flipping through TV stations; there is nothing to satiate his boredom. He wants one thing and one thing only—you. He flooded your phone with messages, receiving no response since you’re likely making your way home from work. Time couldn’t tick by any slower.

Rolling onto his side, the open drawer full of your panties catches his attention. Choso pierces his lips together, his mind wandering to picture you in your lingerie—thinking about how sexy you look when you tease him, sending him all those naughty pictures when he’s the one at work. The ones he saves to his gallery in a special folder just for you; two albums have your name, one inaccessible without a passcode.

Grabbing a pair, he balls them up into his hand and throws himself back on the mattress, admiring them in the air. A black lace set, simple but equally as seductive. He lowers them to his face, cursing himself for his perverted ways as he sniffs, only to be disappointed by the smell of laundry detergent. No one could miss pussy more than he does; his dick throbs at the thought of your taste when you guide his head, holding him down while he eats you out.

Unable to contain himself, he fumbles with his zipper and pulls his dick from his underpants, his tip sensitive to the touch. Using your panties for added stimulation, he begins stroking himself, wishing it were you touching him. Sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you—it’s beginning to interfere with his life; deep down, he knows he’d live no other way. You’re the only thought in his head; he’d do anything for you—the possibilities are endless.

Since you’re not home, he’s free to be as loud as he wants. His moans leave his mouth as his head lolled back, letting himself get lost in the endless fantasies his mind curated of you. You enter through the door and take your shoes off, humming the tune to the song playing through your headphones while you walk through to the living room. When you call Choso’s name, he doesn’t reply and your brows pinch together.

“Baby? Are you home?” You call out again, hearing clattering coming from the bedroom.

“M’ here. Wait—” The floorboards creak as you approach the bedroom and he panics, covering himself carelessly as the door swings open.

“I missed you so much!” You beam at him and walk over, holding his head in your hands while cuddling him to your chest.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles, his dick twitching from the material of the blanket rubbing him the wrong way.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” You pull your lips to one side and put your hand on his forehead, slicking his hair back, “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m okay, just sleepy.” He smiles, his eyes innocent despite the deceit—he’s not tired at all.

“You’re always sleepy.” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. Your gaze lowers, noticing him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Not always.”

“Your cheeks are rosy.” Your thumb strokes over his smooth skin, unaware of the situation under the blanket that he is desperately attempting to conceal.

“You’re so beautiful.” He chokes on his words when you straddle him, your ass directly on top of his hardly-covered dick.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s—” He grits his teeth, turning his head to the side, “—Nothing. I told you I’m fine.”

“What’s this?” Underneath the blanket covering him is a slip of fabric. Before he could stop you, you reel it out and reveal your panties.

“I swear I can explain, please.” He whines, grabbing your hand while you stare down at him. You don’t speak, giving him the approval to justify his actions.

“I just wanted to feel you. I missed you so much; I need you so fucking bad.” His eyes were wide, a soft glimmer possessing them while his hands rubbed up and down your hips.

“How long have you been jerking off in my panties?”

“A few weeks—”

You flash a stern glare at him and he huffs, squeezing your fingers while they intertwine with his.

“I know, I’m sorry. Please, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re so needy, you know?” Your voice lowers, bundling his shirt as you draw him closer to you. He couldn’t handle being touch-starved for much longer and cracked, connecting his lips with yours.

While you intended to go for a controlled approach, Choso was sloppy, dragging you down with him while his lips assaulted yours. All his pent-up sexual frustration is revealing itself, his tongue meeting with yours in an instant. Despite not being touched, this was all he needed to orgasm, whimpering pathetically into your mouth as he cums all over himself. You pull back and remove the blanket, seeing the trail shot up his lower abdomen and shirt.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” He murmurs, grabbing onto your face with both hands, “I’ve been a good boy for you.”

“You’ve been perfect.” Your lips twist up, “Only you could cum all over yourself like this. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours. Only yours.” He hastily replies, grinning right back at you.

“I think it’s only right that a good boyfriend deserves a treat, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You’ve made such a mess.” You toss the now dirty blanket onto the floor, helping him out of his shirt and boxers.

“I’ll clean it all up later, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, only to feel his grip on your forearm tighten.

“Where are you going?” He whines, tugging you back as you stumble forward.

“I’m going to get changed.”

“No.” He lets his head roll back, his cheeks lit with a red flush, highlighting his dire need for your attention, “I need you now.”

“No?” You cock your head slightly askew, his demanding words catching you off guard.

“You haven’t touched me in ages.”

“You’re going to have to wait, Choso. I won’t be long.”

“Please don’t leave the room; you can do it here. I want to see your pretty body.”

“Let’s make a deal, okay?” You brush your hair away from your face and he nods, “I want you to get yourself off until I’m ready and I’ll stay in the room. Can you do that for me?”

“Am I allowed to cum?”

“What fun would it be if you cum again before I get my hands on you?”

“Okay, I won’t. Don’t make me wait forever.” Choso lets go of you, watching you waltz over to the laundry basket.

His eyes linger on your figure as you strip out of your clothes, using his previous spill of cum as lubricant. It was hard to remain silent, his moans muffled due to him forcing his mouth shut. There is no shame left in him as his body twitches, the sight of you from behind leaving him tearing at the skin on his lips. He was overstimulated, hornier than he was previously—but he never gave up. His body knew you were what he craved—likely the only thing providing him the stamina to keep going.

You grin while your back is facing him, hearing the soft noises he makes while he strokes himself to the thoughts playing in his mind. You glance back, noticing him divert his eyes, his hand trembling due to the repeated motions. Though cruel, you want to see how long you can make him wait. Choso always cums quickly, but he’s the type of man that wants to cum multiple times until he gets everything out of his system—until he knows that he has pleased you. If necessary, he’d continue until his eyes are forced shut.

His heavy breathing increases, his big amber eyes begging you to turn around and place your hands all over him. Under the muffled sounds of his whimpers, he calls for you, his voice too weak for you to register from the distance you’re at. He knows you’re doing this to him on purpose, turning him on as his pitch rises an octave, his whines now desperate cries for attention. You unclasp your bra, slinging it aside, then slowly step out of your panties. His face lights up, a gleaming smile displayed as his hands proceed to tremble.

“Are you ready?” He gasps in between his words, eagerly awaiting you to spin around and join him on the mattress.

“Not yet.”

“You said— We had a deal.” He almost sounds hurt, as if he took the betrayal to heart, “I’m going to cum— You know I can’t last—”

“Relax, Choso. I’m teasing.” You chuckle, spinning around and closing the distance, “You can stop now. You did so well.”

“Did I?” His sticky hand leeches onto yours, “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I keep sending you inappropriate messages while you’re at work and I steal your panties.” He utters. He feels ashamed at how attached he is to you—many of your friends have commented on his clingy behaviour.

“I like your little messages; I think they’re cute—the pictures too.”

“Yeah? You like them?”

“I love them; you look so pretty in the videos. Got the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, haven’t you?”

“I’ll send you more. You make me this way—I’m so horny. I get so excited for you to come home every day.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes drift down to his dick, wrapping your hand around it, grazing against the veins that decorate it. “All of this because of me, I’m flattered.”

“All for you. I love you so much.” Choso tugs you forward, making sure he’s able to hold you in the kiss so you can’t break free this time.

His lips were soft; you could feel his smirk pressed against you while you shuffled closer. He adored kissing you; exploring every inch of you is a blessing to him. He pulls back and shifts your hips, lining his tip up with your entrance. The moment he’s been waiting for all day is finally in his hands, the greatest privilege he has been gifted in life.

“I can’t wait to feel you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He mutters, dotting kisses down your arm while you lower yourself onto him, “So good. I’ll make you cum, I swear.”

“Quiet down, Choso.” You snicker, his pupils blown out as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Oh fuck, ‘so tight,” Since he can’t tone it down, you put your hand over his mouth. You silence his moans, barely doing enough to dull the volume.

Your day at work drained you; you don’t have enough energy to remain on top for long, growing exhausted only after the first few minutes have passed. Choso recognises your lack of energy and rolls over, allowing you to lie down. When you give him this opportunity, he makes sure he doesn’t disappoint you. He inches back into you, setting the pace to his liking, carefully analysing your facial expressions.

“Please talk to me.” He grunts, reaching forward to stroke your face.

“You’re doing so well—just like that.” Your eyes flutter shut as his tip massages a point deep within you, stimulating your G-spot. From the look on his face, it’s as though he is awestruck by you; none of this is new to him, he just can’t get over how gorgeous you are.

“Are you close?” He’s aware that it’s early on, but this has been prolonged for him—he’s already at his point of release.

“Not yet.”

“Fuck— I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“You can do it, Choso. Do it for me.”

“I’m trying. M’ trying, but it’s so hard—”

“Keep yourself there.” You readjust your position, raising your hips slightly while he secures you in place.

“Here? Should I press down?” He rubs his hand on your lower abdomen, applying pressure to aid your pleasure, “Look at you— You’re so pretty. You’re going to be mine forever, aren’t you?”

“Forever.” You mumble your words, repeating them as the satisfaction begins to take over your rational thinking.

“Can you feel this?” He says in a proud tone while his fingers circle around your clit, building your climax rapidly, “Am I doing it right?”

“Mhm’, that’s it.” Your breath hitches, muscles tightening due to the stimulation, “That’s it, Choso.”

“I’m holding out for you,” The atmosphere was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping, “Please don’t be mad if I cum.”

“Just a little more.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” His voice was raspy, barely able to get his words out. “I love how you take care of me. I love how good our sex is—”

“And— Those other people,” He pants, glaring directly into your eyes, “Who said I wasn’t enough for you were wrong, weren't they? I’m so good for you.”

“You’re more than enough for me.”

“Not every man has to pretend to be emotionless. They’re so jealous because I’m the one you wanted.” He plants his lips on your neck, leaving a soft trail of pecks leading down to your chest, “I’m going to give you everything, going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Choso comes undone inside of you, his whimpers flowing while his cum spurts out, filling you up just as he had anticipated. He continues to thrust, making sure you have the opportunity to finish despite him being close to passing out from the overstimulation. His hands are groping your breasts, sliding all over your body, doing anything he can to help you.

“Please cum, please,” He whispers his plea, his breath fanning onto your neck, “I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes— Oh shit,” He laughs in between gasps, not expecting his words to have an effect, “You’re so tight around me.”

Locking with his innocent eyes, you break, losing your composure as your orgasm reigns over your body. Choso is struggling to speak, his words coming out in hiccups while he continues—unable to stop himself. He pulls out of you and shoots cum all over your stomach, letting his drained body fall beside yours. Tonight, he made a mess much bigger than he ever had before, his head spinning while his body regains energy.

“I really needed this.” Choso turns, noticing the sweet expression on your face as you gaze at him.

“I love you too; I forgot to say it back.” You beam over at him while your chest heaves, your body sticky with both sweat and cum, a combination that becomes irritating as time passes.

“Give me a minute and I’ll clean everything up like I promised.” He pecks your cheek, pleased with himself for the state you’re in. Usually, you prefer to be the one in charge of aftercare—you don’t have the heart to stop him as he seems so ecstatic with his performance. “Do you want a fresh set of lingerie or my boxers and a shirt?”

“Boxers and a shirt, please.”

[slut4megantheestallion]

˖⁺‧₊ ˚✧Being in a relationship w/ Hwang jun- ho Headcannons

━━━ .°˖✧Hwang jun ho x f!reader˚₊ ⊹

●Jun-ho is cautious about relationships due to his line of work and personal experiences. He's not quick to trust, but once he's certain about you, he's all in.

●He's a one- person kind of guy. Once you're in his heart, he's fiercely loyal and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

●Being a detective, he notices small things about you. Whether it's your favorite food, the way your mood shifts, or the way you fidget when you're nervous, he picks up on it all and adjusts his actions accordingly.

●He isn't overly demonstrative with his affection in public, but his actions speak louder than words. He'll make sure you're always walking on the safer side of the sidewalk, hand you his jacket when it's cold, or prepare your favorite dinner after a long day.

●In private, he's touchier. He loves resting his hand on the small of your back or tracing circles on your skin while watching tv. hugs from behind are his favorite; it's his way of grounding himself and showing you he's there.

●He's fiercely protective over you. He won't make a big deal of it, but there are moments when his watchful eyes follow you around, especially in crowded places, ensuring no one gets too close. When you're walking together, his hand will subtly brush against yours, or he might move closer to keep you safe without saying a word. He isn't the type to openly declare his protectiveness, but in his quiet, determined way, he'll always have your back.

●Love language; Acts of Service and Quality Time. He's not the one to bombard you with grand gestures, but he will show his affection in little, meaningful ways. You might find your favorite drink waiting for you after a long day or a warm jacket over your shoulders if it's cope outside. He'll also do small things, like making sure you're comfortably in any situation, even if it means staying up a little later to drive you home or taking care of any worries on your behalf. His affection is felt in the quiet, gentle ways he supports you with expecting anything in return.

●Jun-ho is the kind of person who listens and really listens. He'll sit with you in silence when you're upset, simply allowing you to vent without interrupting or trying to fix things. When you do share something important, he'll always remember it, showing how much he values your thoughts. He may not always know how to offend comfort with words, but his presence alone feels like a warm embrace. His way of caring is by making sure you know that you're heard and valued.

●He has an unexpectedly soft spot for surprising you with little gifts that reflect his deep understanding of your personality. He is not into big or flashy stuff, but the fact he remembers such small details about you shows how deeply he cares. His gestures make you realize how observant he is abound your likings, dislikes, and subtle shifts in your mood.

●His ideal date is sometimes calm and intimate, far away from the noise and the spotlight. He prefers to spend an evening at home, cooking a meal for you, maybe take a walk through a park, sharing thoughts without interruption. If you go out, he might take you to a secluded place with a beautiful view, where the two of you can enjoy the peacefulness without the bustle of the world around you. He doesn't need anyone fancy - just a moment where the two of you can connect, free from the distractions of the outside world.

●In the beginning of the relationship, he never opens up about emotions, but when he does, he's deeply caring and gentle. He may not say "I love you" all the time, but his actions show it in a way that is honest and raw. You'll catch him giving you a shy smile when you're not looking or noticing how his eyes soften when you do something kind of him. When he's feeling soft, he'll find little ways to show his affection, like resting his hand on yours or wrapping you in a hug behind when he feels protective.

●His time as a police officer makes him aware of the dangers in the world. He doesn't express it with overwhelming affection. You can tell he's always trying to keep you out of harm's way. He's meticulous about your safety- walking home, checking the locks on the doors because you go to bed, and constantly reassuring you that you don't need to worry about anything when you're with him. Even though his life of work means he's seen danger up close, he always makes sure you feel safe in his presence.

●Though he's naturally a homebody, he enjoys planning a low-key but adventurous date with you. He'll take you to quiet spots around town, from cafés to parks, where you both can enjoy each other's company without distractions. He'll take you to a random, cozy bookstore, cook dinner together. His dates aren't about impressing you and more about creating moments that you'll both treasure together.

●Jun-ho is the picture of calm and collected. If someone gets too close to you, a small streak of jealousy will surface. He's not that overly possessive, but you can see it in the way his hand tightens around yours when someone speaks to you. He'll play it cool, but you can tell by his furrowed brow or the way he casual mentions something about them to see if you're paying attention. His quiet protectiveness extends to the people who surround you, and he'll subtly assert his place by your side.

●One thing about jun-ho he'll make you feel cherished. Whether it's the way he looks at you like you're the most important person in the world or the way he compliments you when you least expect it, he had a way of makin you feel truly seen. He's the never the type to give shallow compliments; when he tells you that you look beautiful or that you've done something impressive, you can feel the sincerity in his words, you can be dressing up or making dinner looking at you with awe- telling you how amazing you are.

●Jun-ho knows what it feels like to go through tough times, and he is always there for you when life gets hard. He won't just tell you to "get over it" - he'll listen, he cares about your feelings, and offers quiet support.

●he's so serious when it comes to work and a little closed off. He's used to keeping things to himself, whether it's his past or his feelings. When it's with you, he begins to let his guard down, little by little. You notice when he's with you, his demeanor softens, and intense look in his eyes faded into something more warm and relaxed. He'll smile at you for no reason at all, especially when you make a joke or share a funny story. Even when he's stressed or facing a difficult situation, his smile makes you happy. It's a rare sight, but when it does appear, it's like the whole world brightens up.

●His mom adores you she treats you like family. She's proud of her son and is thrilled to see him with someone who makes him happy. She loves how much you bring out jun-ho's softer side.

●He's a gentleman he's the type to open a door for you, a restaurant entrance, pulls a chair for you, carrying something heavy for you, whether it's groceries bags, shopping, he just loves doing stuff for you.

● when he's in a comfortable mood. You'll find that he'd not above playfully teasing you. It's a lighthearted way of showing affection that feels natural between the two of you. He'll poke fun st your cute habits in a way that makes you flustered. He enjoys seeing you react to his teasing, and it's one of the ways he lets his more playful side come through.

● He can be serious most of the time, he crack a few jokes that catch you off guard. Whether it's a dry joke, making a witty comment, or delivering a perfect deadpan delivery, he has a way of making you laugh even in the most unexpected situations. It's his way of showing you that he feels comfortable enough with you a little more relaxed, and you loved the fact that he can make you laugh even when you're not expecting it.

●Overall, jun-ho is a great boyfriend and loves you<3

[retrowitchy]

peeta & dealing with katniss' disregulation

one thing i love about everlark is how they are such different people but peeta has a really good grasp of how to support katniss and calm her down in a way that nobody else does. i think this is more obvious and more common in catching fire, but in my reread i'm noticing it even in thg, when they don't know each other nearly as well.

katniss is really easily disregulated. a lot of this comes from the trauma of the games, of course, and the general pain and anxiety that comes with living on unstable income in the seam. but i think also she is the sort of person that feels so emotionally and physically distraught when things are outside of her comfort zone or overstimulating, and it's really hard for her to reel herself back in. peeta clocks that very fast and knows how to keep her calm and ground her.

"The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress, and sometimes, for just a moment, I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again." (THG, pg. 397)

this stuck out to me because one of the things that helps to keep katniss from panicking is always baby steps. she does this constantly in the arena. ("I give myself a series of simple commands to follow, like "Now you have to sit up, Katniss. Now you have to drink water, Katniss." I act on the orders with slow, robotic motions." [THG, pg. 280]). she regulates herself by picking up small tasks, noticing small things, one step at a time, so as not to get overwhelmed by the whole of it. she has difficulty functioning, so she inches her way to progress by distracting herself from her overwhelm. i don't think she's constantly thinking about this while she does it, i think it's just a coping mechanism she's developed after years and years of hardship.

peeta picks this up instantly. mind you, at this point in the book, he's literally bleeding out, dying on top of the cornucopia, but trying to stay conscious and calm for katniss' sake because he knows she's on the brink of full on, hyperventilating panic. they're listening to cato's screams while he's being ripped apart by the mutts for hours and so to distract her, he gently guides her with his words, helping her to notice the moon and the way it shifts and to focus on something else. he's not babying her, but he's keeping things as simple as possible because he knows that her nervous system is such a strong, intense jumble of emotional knots right now.

it's essentially that thing you're meant to do when you are having a meltdown or a panic attack where you try to pick out things you can see, touch, smell, etc. it's a grounding exercise. that's exactly what he's doing with her, and it does help. nobody else does this for her really at any point, not even gale, who is her best friend and in some sense knows her better than anybody, or even prim. because peeta really understands her in a way that nobody else does.

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

legally single - spencer reid x fem!reader

on a walk of shame after a frankly devastating breakup, reader gets stopped by coworker spencer reid and he offers her a ride home

genre: hurt/comfort wc: 1.1k warnings: break up, reader wears makeup and heels, mention of vomit, unhealthy coping, protective spencer, anxiety a/n: based off the beginning of legally blonde!!! yes i wrote this instead of my requests

Heels click on the damp sidewalk in a way that feels mocking. Like a toddler, you sniffle with a humbling pout on your pink lips. You ignore the burning in your feet because you fear it’s your punishment for having so much faith in a person. It’s ridiculous, you know, but if it wasn’t for blind optimism and high expectations you probably wouldn’t be crying on the side of the road. But you don’t know if it’s fair to hate yourself for something that’s not actually your fault at all. You’re not the one who uttered the words I think we should break up. No, that was him.

Unsympathetic too.

Each syllable took an eternity to actually fucking leave his lips. Like it was all an elaborate plan to humiliate you publicly. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

It was a long relationship that ended neatly with one very simple sentence. It feels like a cosmic joke created only for the purpose of you becoming the butt of some–any–joke. Unfair.

Every car that drives by ignores your presence. To them you probably look like you’re taking a walk of shame. Maybe, in a way, you are. One car doesn’t ignore you, though. An old one that’s white or pale yellow. You barely finish the thought that it looks familiar before you see the figure behind the wheel.

He calls your name but you don’t respond. It was embarrassing enough when you were alone.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks.

You just keep on walking. His eyes flick down to your shoes, dampening against the wet concrete. You can’t even remember when it rained last. He doesn’t let you go, slowly driving alongside you until you answer.

An answer he’ll get.

“Go home, Spencer,” you grumble, squeezing your hands into fists at your sides.

Unfortunately, he knows you. “You’ll ruin your shoes.”

He’s right. But you’re not happy about it.

You get in the car, never once allowing your eyes to meet his purely for the very big reason that you’re humiliated. Because of how he does nothing but simply drives, you think he’s okay with the silence. Awkward silence is discussed so often that every time nobody speaks, you feel uncomfortable. This might be the first time you’ve been comfortable in the quiet.

Whatever that means.

The silence only lasts so long, however.

Spencer glances at the smeared makeup under your eyes. “You don't need to tell me what happened but… just know that I’m sure you're better than whoever you're crying over.”

Your eyes finally and cautiously meet his.

That boyish look that shows that he simultaneously wants to make you feel better and show he cares makes your heart sink. You hate yourself for feeling. For having a reaction to what’s surely a friendly gesture. Your stomach swirls with uncertainty.

You know he cares about you, that much is obvious just by how he acts around you. Almost like he has to physically restrain himself from stepping between you and something potentially dangerous. The small kink is that, for him, everything is a threat of danger.

His mind works in a way you’ll never understand. One simple scenario has hundreds of outcomes, each one of them assessed by him in detail. With that ability, he’s able to create alternate realities within his brain. Some of which are affected by his fears. If he can think it, it can happen. So he puts himself a few sacred steps in front of you. Every time.

Because, if anyone was getting hurt, he'd rather it be him. It’s simpler that way.

So, yes, he cares about you.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

It’s like the words register in him differently than they would to someone else. Because he looks at you like he wants to fix you so you never have to say thank you like that ever again.

You never thought you’d want a man to fix you.

The eyes you know so well seem to follow each microexpression on your face. While driving.

Somehow.

The familiar lead-up to your apartment building makes your stomach curdle. In a way that makes you feel like an expired bag of milk. You’re not sure why.

You think you might throw up.

That is, without company. 

Every time you look at the man to your left, you feel oddly at ease. Maybe he could be of service tonight. You mean, you haven’t been alone with a guy since you started dating your ex.

Ex.

It’s when he stops the car that you can’t hold it inside. The worst he can say is no.

“Spence… I really don’t want to be alone…,” you pause for a beat, looking down at your heels, “would you maybe want to come in?”

Your eyes anxiously survey his, searching for whatever it is that means he’ll say yes.

“Just for a minute?” you ask.

The gold in his irises is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, blown wide to accommodate the darkness. He considers it with a bitten bottom lip. His jaw stays stiff until he finally nods.

You try to hide the relief lacing your sigh and just get out of the car. After any emotional day, your advice is to simply go the fuck to sleep. Perhaps it's hypocritical of you to write that advice off as not relevant in this case. Perhaps you’re acting out because you think it’ll make everything go numb. It’s as if you have no control over your body because you know this is a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t be inviting your coworker up to your apartment when you’re in such a vulnerable state.

But you just don’t care.

When your feet hit the first step up, you can’t think of another way you’d be taking such a step. Having Spencer here feels like you have something tethering you to the outside. So you’re not just lonely in a place where you once were in what you thought was love.

That never meant Spencer belonged here, though.

His very presence makes you feel softer but it makes him feel indescribably lost. He wishes he could read the situation better or maybe even have the courage to ask you. His silhouette lingers in the open doorway like he knows he has a decision to make. A decision he would’ve made better any other time. 

But it’s after ten pm and he never said he was strong.

[notglue-9]

About My AU

This is about how 8 souls in Minecraft afterlife,try to live in peace and harmony.

Random facts about world/lore:

• You can’t stay at night for long as your own nightmares and fears will begin to haunt you.

• Catnap has had corruption three times. And each time it gets worse and more painful.

• on a full moon in Cartoon world, Catnap will turn into that same creepy version of himself from his past life.

• Bobby: mother/big sister figure

Bubba: Big bro/Father figure

Kickin: best Bro/best friend

Hoppy: best sister/best friend

Crafty: comfort shy bestie

Picky: the same kind aunt who will feed and take care of you/sibling figure

• Catnap lives with Bobby or Bubba.

The guys built houses for each other while they were in the afterlife. And they built a House for Dogday in advance.

• It hurts Catnap to show other emotions with his mouth, so he always smiles. But in the animation "Overnight" he was so upset that he didn't care about the pain and to show his sadness to Dogday he erased his smile

About Medallions

medallions are their souls.

Catnap collects the negative emotions of other critters. This makes his medallion increase. Although he helps others, it’s worse for him if he collects a lot of negativity within himself. He's in pain and reaaally Sick.💀

Each critter has their own cracks in their medallions. They show their emotional state.

Why is Catnap's medallion different?

it’s just that Catnap is punished for what he did in a past life. He pays back by helping and providing therapy to others there will be a rollback from negativity only if someone helps him. But no one will help him yet. The worse the Catnap medallion stage, the more his voice disappears, his beautiful lullaby voice becomes either mute or creepy.

The reason why Catnap is still cursed with this "therapy" ability. He feels guilty for all his mistakes. And it haunts him. His guilt hits harder than other negative emotions of smiling critters.

Sometimes a big red cloud hangs over him in the shape of his past life. And until he forgives himself and does not help others. He will be forever cursed and suffer

Cracked or Cursed Medallions symptoms

When Catnap is too overwhelmed with negativity. He coughs up Red Smoke.

But it doesn’t affect the others in any way. Although other critters are scared by this smoke. Especially Dogday.

Broken medallions.

These are souls that have not found peace, traumatized, broken. They feel bad mentally.

About ARCS.

Arc 0. - Catnap's Therapy. Pilot lmao

Arc 1. - Eclipse, nightmares and dreams,"I'm sorry"

Arc 2.- Corruption,Hey Dogday,,the groundhog Day,comics about other Critters

Arc 3- (Red crescent arc) - Your face,Camping, Theatre, others in future

Arc 4.- After prank, overnight,Moon's everyday Life.

Arc 1- Everyone hates Catnap. They shun him. Beat him,kick him. Bobby was the first to befriend him.

Arc. 2.Catnap helps them cope with their traumas that have begun to appear and interfere with their lives.

Arc 3.They are all more or less well. Some notice Catnap's strange behavior. Dogday has a hard time accepting Catnap. He already wanted to more or less make the relationship better. But the Red Moon appeared.

Their voices ,Their speaking style

Dogday: The deep voice of a veteran who went through a 100-year war. But sometimes it changes to squeaky if it experiences strong emotions. He remained expressive, but his face is always angry as if it would bite you.

Catnap: Actually he was mute. But he was given a voice in the afterlife. He still can't get used to it. His voice is very gentle, cold and pleasant to the ear, like the Cradle. His voice is also designed for singing.

Bobby: Calming tone, tactile when communicating. Sometimes she makes beautiful speeches. And very chatty. Loves to gossip.

Bubba: Monotonous and calculating Voice. He speaks briefly and clearly. And doesn't gesture at all and he is very passive.

Kickin: He deliberately makes his voice tone rougher to seem cool. He comes up with different slangs and often makes funny gestures. But when he's scared, his voice becomes very squeaky and he chirps like a Chicken.

Hoppy: She has a loud and confident voice, like a fitness club trainer. She will never tire of shouting motivational words at you. She often jumps and runs around you. She doesn't sit still while she chats with you.

Crafty: A gentle and sweet voice, like a princess. She is often distracted and has Daydreaming Syndrome.

Loves fairy tales and everything that is not from reality. She can debate her point of view about creativity

Picky: She has a very fun and playful voice. But sometimes you don’t understand whether she’s happy or ready to roast you in a fire.

A truly charming farmer and chef. Loves the Western theme.

About Chronology.

First arc - Catnap enters the afterlife. And everyone will begin to take revenge on him in their own way. Only Bobby will be there for him

Second arc - Catnap helps all of his friends to help recover from their traumas, and slowly wins their trust.

Third arc - Everything will more or less calm down. Only Dogday has the most difficult period of acceptance. There will be a lot of adventure beyond this. And only when Dogday wants to fix everything. The red moon appears on the horizon

(camping, theatre )

fourth arc - is Catnap's self-exile. everyone misses catnap

Arc five- blocked

Arc six- blocked

[mrsriddlenott]

I put a lot of my own anxiety and insecurities into this and just portrayed it kinda how my mind feels in stressful situations where I doubt everything. This is basically my way of coping with the stress of….well everything rn.

Warnings: Anxiety, Insecure reader, Mention of cheating but no cheating ever occurred, Brain working against reader, Small panic attack, Suggestive at the end. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

~ Anxious ~

Your heart beat pounded heavily in your ears over the music surrounding you, your eyes unable to pull away from the scene in front of you. You didn’t want to think JJ would cheat on you. You hadn’t considered it, but as you watched him and Kie talk like nothing and no one was around them, doubt began to settle in your chest.

“It was insane, the biggest wave that I had ever surfed,” JJ explained with excitement, his eyes on Kie from beside you, his arm that had draped across your shoulders now lays nonchalantly against the back of the couch. You’re brain keeps trying to convince you it means something. It can’t mean anything.

Does it though?

You had already heard this story many times before, so had Kie even though she was there. Of course. But somehow with him it felt like it was new. “Do you remember that time when we-“ You start softly making JJ briefly turn to you with those bright excitement filled eyes he wore so often around his group.

Or was it around Kie? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Before you could even get past your first sentence his eyes were shooting away from yours immediately at the sound of her voice cutting over yours.

Maybe he’ll tell her I was talking?

Maybe she didn’t notice?

“Oh wait, Jj” Not you, just JJ, you thought trying to ignore the pang of emotions that hit your chest at being interrupted. “Even better, that time when we all almost got caught at the party in that creepy abandoned house and when we got to the Twinkie-“ JJ was laughing before she could even finish the story and soon they both were, leaving you confused and left out when the warmth of JJ’s arm finally slipped out from behind you to clutch himself as he laughed. “Well you know what happened.” Kie said between laughs after attempting to continue.

“I don’t,” Your chest constricts, clutching your words in your throat, forcing your voice to come out soft and scratchy while attempting to get their attention. When your small, anxious voice is drowned out by their combined laughter the feeling of jealousy and anxiety fuled anger fills your chest, your eyes bouncing back and forth uncontrollably between them while they start to calm down. Will he put his arm around me again? You ask yourself, your thoughts beginning to spiral down a road they never had with JJ.

Does he even remember I am here?

“Need a drink.” You rush to speak, your voice harsh abd upset while shoving yourself aggressively off the couch and away from the man that is supposed to bring you comfort. It wasn’t your intention to be rude, or aggressive but you just couldn’t find it in you to care.

It’s not like he will notice my tone anyway. You tell yourself, slipping silently around the crowded room to reach the drinks. You can’t stop yourself as your brain starts falling into a pit of overthinking, forcing yourself to take deep breaths in the hopes that you could calm down, take a few shots and be able to ignore these feelings until you were alone.

I bet he won’t even follow me, will he? The voice in the back of your head blurts out again, pushing tears past your eyelashes as you desperately try and hold them in. The thought has your head filling with heavy fog, your eyes searching for a life line, beginning to realize that you don’t even know anyone here besides his friends. Their friends.

Not like I have any of my own anyway.

Your scattered brain wastes no time in reminding you of that fact, your eyes nervously scanning the room, the music seemingly booming louder than it was a second ago as your ears begin to ring and your breath speeds up. You notice the room staring to feel smaller, your chest constricting with anxiety like the walls around you are closing in. You can’t understand why you aren’t able to just calm yourself down like a normal person.

I bet he wouldn’t even care if I left. Wouldn’t notice for hours. Your brain screams at you as you try and hide in the bathroom, locking the door behind you and letting your body relax against the door, falling down slowly, cradling your head in your arms and allowing yourself to cry quietly. You wanted your brain to just shut up already.

God you’re so toxic. What’s wrong with you. No wonder he prefers her, she can hold a conversation without stuttering through her anxiety. She is exciting, she likes everything he likes and knows the lingo-

“Hey, y/n are you okay?” JJ’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the knock of his two fingers against the hollow wood of the door making you jump slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just crowded out there. Don’t worry you can go back to the party.” You try to control the sadness in your voice, wiping your eyes despite the tears still profusely wetting your cheeks, but you could almost hear the look of confusion on his face as he spoke through the door.

“But I don’t want to, not without you.” He sates, jiggling at the door knob before realizing it was locked, “Can I come in? You sound upset.” The fist trapping your heart tightens at the soft nervous chuckle he releases when you don’t respond at first. You can tell he has no idea what to do, or what upset you.

It’s not his fault you’re like this. He deserves better. He wants to have fun, not run around after me.

After taking a glance in the mirror to ensure your face was as tear free as it was going to get, you click the lock on the door, letting it creak open as you walk to rest against the sink, avoiding his gaze that you can feel burning into the back of your head.

“Are you okay Princess?” He asks, shutting the door behind him to give you privacy, the sigh in his voice as he sees you leant forward only eggs your anxiety on further. He’s annoyed with me now, you think as tears flood down your cheeks uncontrollably, forcing you to gasp for a breath you know won’t come.

“I-i was just overwhelmed at all the people I didn’t know,” the sentence gets caught in your throat, your eyes closing so you can imagine the lie in your head, “I’m okay, you can go have fun with your friends,” you try, wiping your eyes of tears to turn to face him with a straight face but he sees right through it. Like he aways does.

“You’re crying Gorgeous what happened? Did someone say something to you?” He asks, his voice sounded angry but his hands were soft as they reached up to grab your face, examining you like a piece of delicate china, “Did someone do something to you?” His voice was more urgent this time, startling you as you pull yourself out of his grasp and turn away again.

“No, no I’m fine I just need a second okay.” JJ can hear the squeak in your voice, can see the way your shoulders rock slightly with silent sobs. His heart starts to beat rapidly at the thought of everything that could have gone wrong, he didn’t want to lose you, he needed you. You grounded him and kept him from going absolutely crazy at every small inconvenience.

“Why won’t you look at me Princess? Did I do something?” His voice comes out as beg, wanting you to just tell him what happened, “Are you mad at me, whatever I did I didn’t mean to I promise I’m just a fucking idiot please tell me and I’ll explain.”

Your bloodshot eyes lock on his when you turn to meet his gaze and he knows this was him. He caused this somehow. His brain started going through each and every interaction he had with you in order to pin point what he did before finally remembering you didn’t even want to come to this party in the first place. “I can take you home and we can just hang out alone if you’re not having fun.”

“I don’t want to ruin the night for you, I just wanted to calm down because I have no right to be upset.” You sigh, finally meeting his eyes as he steps closer to you wearing a small smile, wanting nothing more than for you to open up to him, “I’m just overthinking….things.”

“What things?” He asks, his voice soft and full of reassurance

“Um well,” You stutter, “It’s just that it made me feel really anxious when Kie interrupted me, it made me….my brain….think you preferred talking to her.”

“Oh….Baby I’m so sorry,” JJ sighs, finally stepping close enough to tug you into a hug by your waste, “I thought you were just too anxious about the party to finish, you should have said something I would have listened to you Princess.”

“It’s fine, I was just too drained to say anything. I shouldn’t have made a big deal out of it.” Your head falls to rest on his chest, the warmth of his arms around you slowing your racing heart.

“You call this a big deal? Nah Princess next time you wanna say something to me you say it, I don’t care who I’m talking to I want to hear you.” His lips brush softly against your head, his large ringed hands rubbing up your back in a comforting gesture.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to ruin everything so I was just gonna calm down on my own.” Your voice cracks as you link your hands together against his back, allowing yourself to slightly cry at the thought.

“I don’t wanna find you crying in the bathroom because of me, I want you to have fun and when you’re not I want to know so I can fix it.” JJ’s voice is stern and confident as he moves you forward by your shoulders, forcing eye contact when he grips your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, “You are the most important person to me. I want to hear every single thing in that pretty head of yours, anything you worry about, anything you stress over, even if you think it will upset me. I would rather we’re upset together and working it out than distancing ourselves so one of us can have fun at the expense of the other.”

JJ’s gentle lips meet yours, your lips and cheeks still salty from tears, your hands shaking as they find their perch in JJ’s sandy hair. He steals your breath as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming your sides and across your back as you tug him away by his hair. He groans his protest, his eyes still closed as he inhales your scent with his forehead against yours, “I love you, you know that right?” He whispers as his eyes blink open to meet yours again, stepping back to see you completely, his eyes dancing across you as if you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

“I love you too, so much it hurts,” Your sad chuckle mingles with your words and JJ knows you’ll be okay, he’ll make sure of it. His head swims with your scent while it surrounds him, the look of adoration in your wet eyes as you smile up at him sends him reeling, his hands subconsciously tightening on your waste and his lip tugging between his teeth.

“I think we should get outta here,” his breathless, begging tone brings out a giggle as your head falls against him again, “You were so right earlier, we should stay in and watch a movie yeah?” The teasing tone of his voice sparks a fire in your abdomen as you nod your head, his hands already encircling yours and tugging you out of the bathroom towards the door.

The music is still entirely too loud as you search the room with your eyes, taking notice of the empty couches you had just been sitting at. A pang of regret hit you, imagining Kie being mad at you for….for what? JJ wanted to hear me, you remind yourself as you take a deep breath before speaking, “Where’s Kie? Did I upset her?”

“I have no idea. I followed you when I heard how upset you were, she’ll understand though she knows how I feel about you.” He states matter of factly, “Now, if we don’t get out of here soon we are not making it home before I just find somewhere nice and private to take you on my bike Princess.”

“What have I said that implies I wouldn’t enjoy that Jay?” You tease, letting your lips tickle the shell of his ear, giggling at the groan he releases from deep in his chest while his grip on your hand tightens.

~~~~

[augustjoy]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable, and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”