#he's not emotionally detached he's just. chill.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

YOU LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing(s): Dark!JJ x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, strangling, gaslighting, alcohol, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, trauma, rape, 18+

Summary: Y/n trusted JJ, who initially seemed to be the love of her life, but ultimately became the source of her deepest fears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 3 - Bruised

After that horrific night, you retreated to your bed, physically and emotionally shattered. Days blurred into a week as you lay there, the weight of bruises marking your body a painful reminder of what had transpired. JJ showed no concern, dismissing your condition with a casual lie to anyone who asked, claiming you were just tired.

-

As the days passed, a new sensation began to gnaw at your insides. Nausea swept over you, waves of sickness that refused to abate. At first, you attributed it to stress or the aftermath of that night, but as it persisted, a chilling realization began to dawn.

With trembling hands, you took a pregnancy test. You stared at the pregnancy test, the positive result a stark and overwhelming reality.

Mixed emotions swirled within you—fear, confusion, and a profound sense of uncertainty. You didn't know who the father was. The thought sent a chill down your spine, deepening the pit of dread in your stomach.

JJ's recent behavior and the events of that horrifying night loomed large in your mind. Could he be the father? Or was it someone else? The uncertainty gnawed at you, adding to the turmoil already consuming your thoughts.

As you lay in bed, alone with your thoughts and fears, you wrestled with the implications of this pregnancy.

A few more weeks passed, and you struggled to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. Deep down, you knew you needed to see a doctor about your situation, but the thought of telling JJ filled you with dread.

One day, when JJ went to work, you seized the opportunity to take control of your own health. With a mix of nerves and determination, you made your way to the doctor's office for a scan.

The only available doctor was a man, whose clinical demeanor and detached manner left you feeling like just another patient on a conveyor belt. His voice was cold and matter-of-fact as he confirmed what you already suspected.

"You're two weeks pregnant," he said bluntly, handing you brochures about your options—whether to keep the baby or not.

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. This wasn't just a medical diagnosis; it was a crossroads that would alter the course of your life.

As you left the office, the brochures clutched tightly in your hand, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you—fear, uncertainty, and a profound sense of isolation.

You knew you couldn't confide in JJ. His reaction to the news was unpredictable at best, and the thought of his anger or indifference terrified you

When you got home, relieved that JJ hadn't returned yet, you moved through the familiar motions of daily life with a sense of numbness.

Making yourself a sandwich felt like an automatic response, a mundane task to ground yourself in the midst of overwhelming emotions. Afterward, you retreated back to bed, seeking solace in the quiet sanctuary of your room.

Lying there, sandwich forgotten beside you, you wrestled with the weight of your options. The doctor's words echoed in your mind, the brochures now a tangible reminder of the decision looming ahead. The uncertainty of not knowing who the father was gnawed at you, a knot of anxiety that tightened with each passing moment.

The reality of your situation loomed large: you weren't in the best place emotionally or financially to bring a child into this world. Fear of JJ's reaction, fear of the unknown, and a deep-seated instinct to protect yourself clashed with the tiny flutter of life growing inside you.

As you lay there, tears streaming silently down your cheeks, you knew that whatever choice you made would shape your future irrevocably

You didn't hear JJ come home; he dropped his keys on the table and headed straight for the shower. After some time, he quietly entered the room and found you sleeping. His eyes fell on your bag, where the brochures were tucked into the side pocket. With a mix of surprise and concern, he pulled them out and glanced through the pregnancy options.

His expression hardened, a storm brewing beneath his controlled demeanor. Anger flashed in his eyes, but he stifled it, knowing he needed to approach this situation carefully.

Dressing himself, he continued searching through your bag, where he discovered three positive pregnancy tests. Overwhelmed by emotion, he retreated to the lounge, struggling to contain his feelings.

As you finally woke, grogginess slowly giving way to awareness, you noticed JJ sitting on the lounge, clutching the pregnancy tests. The tense atmosphere in the room was palpable, his expression a mix of hurt, anger, and disbelief. Your heart sank as you realized he had found out.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" JJ's voice cut through the air like a knife, filled with hurt and anger. You flinched at the accusation, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected.

Frozen in place, you struggled to find a response. "I... I didn't know how to," you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the intensity of his anger.

"Who's the father?" JJ's voice exploded with accusation, each word hitting you like a punch. "Is it mine, or is it one of those guys you milked?”

The harshness of his words cut deep, leaving you stunned and speechless. "I..." You started, but the words caught in your throat.

"I'm not keeping it," you managed to say, your voice trembling with fear and resolve. JJ turned to look at you, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

"I sure hope you're not," he retorted coldly, his voice laced with venom. "And you're not going to spend my money to get rid of it when I can take care of this for free."

Before you could react, his fist struck your stomach with brutal force, knocking you to the ground. Pain shot through you as you crumpled, gasping for air. He didn't stop there; relentless kicks followed, each blow aimed with a vicious determination to ensure there was no trace of your baby left. 

He left you there, curled up on the floor, pain radiating through your body and tears streaming down your cheeks. The room felt emptier now, the silence broken only by the echoes of his anger and your sobs.

Alone and shattered, you clutched your stomach, the ache both physical and emotional overwhelming. JJ's betrayal cut deeper than his fists ever could, leaving you grappling with the harsh reality of what had just happened.

He stepped over you, his gaze cold and distant, and reached for the bottle of whiskey. With a harsh twist, he uncapped it and took a long, bitter swig straight from the bottle. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air as he turned away, leaving you on the floor.

After hours you finally managed to get up from the floor, every movement was agonizing. Tears mixed with the blood running down your legs as you stumbled out of the house, driven by a desperate need to escape and find help. JJ's heavy snores from the bedroom provided a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

Each step was a battle against pain and fear, but you pushed forward, driven by the urgency to reach Sarah's place.

The night air was cold against your skin, the darkness seeming to swallow you whole as you navigated the familiar streets, your mind racing with the enormity of what had just happened.

The sharp pain in your abdomen intensified with every stride, a cruel reminder of the brutality you had endured. You reached Sarah's doorstep, pounding on it with trembling fists, praying that she would answer.

Finally, the door swung open, revealing Sarah's startled face. Shock and concern flooded her features as she took in your disheveled appearance, the tears streaking your cheeks, and the blood staining your clothes.

“Help Me Sarah”

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

The Fall

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warnings: David being a tease(?), blood, dog attack, robbery, Typical CM violence. Hospitals, (let me know if there is something I missed)

A/N: so these next two chapters are long because I had to take a SUPER long chapter and split it in two. So be thankful I could have just kept it all in one part 😂.

Present Day

The first few things you notice, as your conscious slowly pieces itself together, is that your face is unbearably cold. The AC unit under the window is humming loudly as it pushes the air around, chilling the room like you’ve left the window open. The next thing you gather is that every other part of your body is warm, almost burning. But with the soft pillow under your head, the weight at your back, and how your body has shaped into the mattress, you could care less. This is the most comfortable you have been in years, every ounce of tension smothered away by the heaviness above you.

Then that heaviness moves.

Your eyes snap open with the flood of last nights events, overly aware of who exactly lays behind you. Aaron’s head is pressed against the back of your neck, little puffs of warm air skimming your shoulder, his heavy arm wrapped around your waist and a thick thigh pressed in between your own. His breath is even and deep, seemingly still asleep, and you silently thank whoever is out there for the moment to collect yourself and figure out what you should do next.

What you should do is get up.

What you should do is get the hell out of this room with your tail between your legs.

What you should do is call everything off, the embarrassment you’ve endured enough to last you two life times.

You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath, because as much as you should move you can’t force your body to do so. The smell of Aaron’s cologne is filling your nose with each breath, then just underneath is a hint of musk that is undeniably all him. It’s intoxicating, it makes you want to bury your face into the pillow and never leave.

“You’re doing a terrible job of pretending to be asleep.” Your entire body jumps at the sound of his deep voice, making Aaron chuckle behind you, a chaff kiss pressing to your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He mutters warmly.

“It’s-it’s fine… I was just-.” You push the covers down, starting to get up when Aaron’s arm tightens around your middle, holding you in place as his lips find the smooth skin of your throat, right where your shoulder meets.

“Aaron…”

He nips at your skin and you suck in a breath, his hot tongue soothing over the tender spot before he repeats the process further up your neck. Aaron sucks at the soft skin just above your necklace, just where your pulse is and you whimper at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed. “We-We need to get up… it’s probably time to-.” Your words are swallowed by a thick moan, your head falling back as he finally finds that sensitive spot just bellow your ear. Aaron takes advantage of this new discovery, sucking and nibbling gently as he rolls you onto your back. His large frame settles between your thighs, trapping you in.

Your hands find his arms, squeezing the tense muscles as his weight presses you down into the mattress, your mouth opens in a silent moan, your eyes fluttering against the pleasure clouding over your mind. “Aaron… we can’t do this.” Your words are half hearted, contradicting your actions as your palms travel up to his shoulders, pulling him in as his plush lips pepper the underside of your jaw.

“Why can’t we?” He mumbles, resting his weight on his forearm, his other hand finding your hip. His fingers dig into your skin, his palm pressing into your bone angling your hips to his liking. Aaron lifts his head at your lack of response to find your lips parted in a quiet pant, your eyes closed as you drink in the feeling of him. “Hmm?”

“We could… so much trouble if we keep doing this…”

Your breath catches in your throat as his hand slips under your shirt, smoothing up your side and spreading wide along your ribs. Aarons thumb just barely brushes along the bottom of your breast, all of your senses zeroed in on the small area as the digit rubs back and forth.

“Then stop me.” His voice is laced with a growl, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that can only be described as feral. Your front teeth clicking together, noses bumping, moans filling each other’s mouths as your hands find home in his hair, tugging at the short locks desperately. Clauses smooth over the hard peak of your nipple, sharp hips grinding down into your own, and his erection presses firmly into your mound.

Aaron groans loudly, the noise reverberating through his ribs and into your own. Your thighs squeeze his hips with each slow canter, dragging himself along your soaked core. Every sensation is building into a frenzy under your skin to the point you feel like you will burst into a million little pieces.

The shrill ring of a phone sends everything to an abrupt halt. Aaron is off of you and picking up his phone before you can even take your next breath. “Hotchner.” You blink drizzly up at him, the sudden change in everything leaving you with whip lash. Aaron stays seated between your thighs, one hand kneading and squeezing the soft fat, stroking your leg as he speaks. His voice nor his face give anything away of what just transpired, leaving you astounded as you’re left trying to catch your breath. The way he flips script so easily almost a little unsettling.

You can faintly make out David’s voice on the other end on the line, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding blowing through your nose. You draw your leg up with the intention of leaving the bed but Aaron squeezes your thigh and he shoots you a glare, silently telling you to stay where you are.

Reluctantly you drop your leg back against his pajama clad thigh, tuning out most of his conversation with the older man as you fix your shirt, pulling it back down over your stomach where it had ridden up. “Right. We’ll be there in an hour.” He ends the call, tossing his cell onto the bed leaving his hands free to explore the outside of your thighs with a gentle touch.

“We need to get up.” Your voice is soft, low and thick, your eyes darting down to where his hands have come to a stop.

“Who did this?” His eyes, unusually dark, catch you by surprise when you look up at him in confusion. You’re about to ask him what he means when you feel his thumb rubbing back and forth around the jagged raised scars on your thigh.

Aaron watches how you mentally shut down, your features once soft and dopey now are stony, your gaze turning sharp as your eyes narrow. “No one.” You force yourself to sit up and move away, your back pressing into the cold, wooden headboard.

“You don’t fit the profile of someone who would have hurt themselves.”

You roll your eyes, your nose scrunching with disgruntled anger. “How would you know? Besides, Derek says we aren’t supposed to profile each other. So don’t.”

Aaron moves closer, the bed dipping in making you slip towards him as his hands land on your knees, balancing himself with a soft squeeze. “Those are Derek’s rules, not mine. You don’t seem like someone who would have hurt themselves because you continuously push through your problems, you tuck them away so that they don’t affect what you have set your mind to.” His hand slips down your thigh again, going for the scars that plague you endlessly. “So, I will ask you again. Who did this?”

Your pulse picks up, your breath sticking in your throat like a candy you forgot to chew, as his fingers brush your numb skin once again. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You push his hands away, and Aaron sits back on his heels as you scoot to the edge of the bed with a wince. The memories of last night aren’t the only reminder of what happened, a deep seated soreness is there too.

Aaron sighs, a bit of annoyance latching onto his words as he speaks. “How is any of what we are doing supposed to help if you won’t open up to me? It’s not a sin to show vulnerability, or emotion.” His fingers brush your wrist but you jerk away, spinning on your heel to level him with a rough glare.

“Yes it is. Showing those things, when you are a person like me who came from nothing, gets you no where in life. My emotions are not the reason I pulled my life around in high school, they are not the reason I received valedictorian in college. No amount of tears earned me my work ethic. That was done by me without any of those things. I was fine keeping my mouth shut, my emotions locked away, and going about my life as I should. It was you who decided otherwise!”

Suddenly your voice isn’t your own, it’s hauntingly familiar, piercing the back of your mind like talons from a bird who has caught its prey. You don’t see the room around you anymore, just the never ending darkness that suffocates relentlessly.

The brackets around Aaron’s mouth soften, his eyes turning pitiful and you think that’s the worst part of it all. “Baby…”

“I want to go home, Aaron.” It takes great effort to not let your voice crack as pressure bears down on your chest, making it hard to breath. You’re sure if you keep standing here it will all be for nothing.

“Okay.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re the first to board the jet, the cabin is only a few degrees warmer that the air outside, making you pull the sleeves of your purple turtle neck down to cover your hands. Despite hardly saying anything else to each other Aaron still made it a point to pick out the clothes he wanted you to wear, then helping you carry your bags to the car. The ride had been silent and uncomfortable, the boundaries that you thought were in place are now blurred, and a new type of nervousness has burrowed into your bones.

You pick the couch at the far end of the plane, pulling out one of the blankets JJ keeps in storage for weather like this. You ease into your seat, a long sigh escaping as you drop your head back against the wall, mentally and physically exhausted.

“Well, good morning.” David’s chipper voice fills the cabin and you force yourself to lift your head and meet him with a smile. Aaron is on his heels with a new folder in hand. His work never finished.

“Morning, how was seeing your friend?”

“It was good.” David nods his head, stopping in front of you, smiling crookedly. “We had just enough time to catch up on life until the next time I am in town.”

“That’s great.” You say genuinely, your head tilting slightly. Your smile falters as his brown eyes narrow, your back stiffening as David reaches out, gripping your chin between warm fingers. He tilts your head up and hums softly, his grin returning at full force as his eyes gleam with knowing.

“Well, now isn’t that a pretty sight. Make sure not to get that snagged on anything, gattina.”

Unbridled embarrassment fills your stomach, spreading to the top of your head and down to the bottom of your feet. Your jaw slackens in David’s grip and he chuckles, squeezing your chin before stepping back. Aaron looks up his eyes darting between the two of you. “It took her a minute to agree to wear it. I think she likes it though.”

Your head snaps in his direction, your cheeks reddening with rage but David speaks first. “Oh I’m sure it did. The feisty ones always put up a little fight.”

The fact that they both are speaking as if you aren’t sitting feet from them has you seeing red. You jam the necklace under the collar of your shirt, pulling the blanket up to your chest with a huff. Your narrow eyes bore into Aaron’s who holds your challenging stare, an eyebrow cocking in question. You curse yourself repeatedly as you drop his stare, refusing to acknowledge him or David again for the rest of the trip.

When David sends Aaron a smirk he finds the raven haired man staring at you with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Two and a half uncomfortable hours later you are finally dredging your way back into the bullpen. Your extra bags are packed into your small silver car, refusing the help of the two men, and as you surround yourself with the familiar sounds of rustling papers, ringing phones, and jumbled chatter; you finally feel some tension ease away.

Dropping into your chair at your desk you stretch out your arms, noticing the stack of folders on the corner by your computer. No matter how much you do, there is always more paper work.

“Hey, sweet cheeks.” Derek Morgan drops into his own seat across from you, dressed in a too tight white t-shirt and an impish grin on his face. He rests his elbows on the desk, his muscles flexing as he watches you drag your eyes from him to the folder in front of you. There was no denying he was a very handsome man.

“Good morning.” You singsong back, flipping through the manilla folder, eyebrows creasing as you scan the text.

“How was Jenny after we left?”

You take a second to respond, carefully choosing your words. “She was really good. She was open and talkative, I don’t believe there will be any psychological impact that will affect her life. I’m sure as she grows older and understands more and more of what happened she will seek someone to talk with but for now… she is doing very well.” You prop your head on your fist, your eyes rolling up to meet his. Morgan nods thoughtfully, rolling a pen between his fingers as he leans back in his chair, rocking slightly.

“That’s good. I couldn’t stop thinking about her after we had left.” Right there. That was what made Morgan such a good profiler to you. Not only was he the power of the team, no door standing a chance around him, but he also held a big heart which overflowed with compassion.

You nod, dropping your attention back to your folder when another voice joins in. “That’s new.” Garcia suddenly appears behind you, her bright red fingers plucking at the arm of your sweater. Everything in you stills for a moment, before you force yourself to react, licking your lips and turning to the bubbling blond with a smile.

“Oh uh yeah, it is.”

“And so are those pants! They look good on you.” Garcia’s smile has always been the most infectious thing, despite what comes across her many monitors daily, she always a is a ray of sunshine. Her quick wit and humor making it impossible to dislike her in the slightest. The cheerleader you all need.

You nod again, feeling your cheeks heat under both of their intense gazes. “I kinda did a little shopping after the case was finally wrapped up.”

Morgan makes a noise and Garcia shoots him a leveling glare behind her pink glasses. The color being the main theme of today’s outfit, from her pink 50’s styled dress to her pink heels and makeup.

“What? I’m surprised is all. But good for you, Y/n. You needed to treat yourself.” He holds up his hands in surrender, waving them slightly.

"Y-Yeah you aren't wrong." You amend, glancing up to the landing behind him as movement catches your eyes. Arron is watching the three of you with a slight smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The day felt as though it had dragged on and on, more and more profiles of children and young adults to sort through. Deeming who is top priority for therapy based on the severity of their cases. Finally you are able to close out your computer, leaning back in your chair with a groan. The office is shrouded in darkness, a few emergency lights humming lightly and the amber glow of the offices above you the only lighting.

You can’t help finding Aaron’s office, the door is open and so are his blinds, but there’s no way of seeing him from where you sit. You bite the inside of your cheek, wondering if you should just leave or if you should go to him. You had never discussed how things were supposed to be in the office asides from being discreet. Nothing can be more discreet than just leaving as usual.

Your cellphone suddenly vibrates on your desk, and you aren’t left to wonder any longer. A text from Aaron pops up on the small screen and you find yourself hesitating to answer, your eyes darting around the office to ensure your privacy.

Aaron Hotchner: “How was your day?”

You roll your lips together before typing back a quick reply, something fluttering in your chest.

Y/n Smith: “Same as always when we are in the office. Just paperwork.”

It’s not a forward answer and you find yourself chewing at your cheek again.

Aaron Hotchner: “Did you eat lunch?”

Fuck. Y/n Smith: “I didn’t … but I was planning on having a big dinner when I get home from picking up Bruce.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes flickering to his windows where you can practically see the pinched set to his dark eyebrows, his eyes narrowing as he reads your message.

Aaron Hotchner: “Make sure that you do. Remember some of our rules extend to the work space and that includes eating three means a day if you are able to. Now, are you going straight home?”

Your face flames with heat, again glancing around to make sure no one can see your mild embarrassment from being reprimanded.

Y/n Smith: “No, I’m going to go pick up Bruce first.”

Aaron Hotchner: “Call me when you get home.”

You take a breath, one you didn’t know you were holding and begin to gather your things.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Nearly two hours later you are finally pulling into the driveway of your small one story home, your car shaking with the force of Bruce’s excitement. You laugh as he whines, his tail wreaking havoc on the seat back behind him. You grab your keys and phone, leaving everything else for later. “You ready? Who’s ready to be home?” The high pitched toddler talk you reserve souly for your over grown puppy makes Bruce bark, the car shaking more as he shifts on his paws. “Let’s go then!”

You step out and he instantly follows, circling you before going ahead and running back, like he’s asking you to go faster. You both make your way to the front door, bantering one-sidedly as you unlock the door as you debate dinner.

“Chicken noodle?” He whines as you push the door open, letting him go in first. “No? Well then how about a pasta bake?” You toss your things onto the door side table, closing and bolting the door behind you. Bruce yips, his tongue lulling out the corner of his wide mouth, almost grinning as you lead him into the living room. “Ooo what about fish sti-.”

You stop abruptly, halting in the middle of your living room, as your focus lands on a man lumbering at the entrance to your kitchen. He’s shrouded in the darkness of the small area, his clothes different shades of grey and his face is obscured from a ski mask. In one hand he holds a large trash bag, in the other what appears to be your silverware.

Bruce’s growl snaps you from the impromptu staring contest you’re having with the man, the hairs on his body standing on end as his posture shifts. His stance widens, shoulders dropping , ready to protect. Though fear sizzles through your blood like acid you react before the intruder does, your hand snapping for the gun at your hip only to fumble over air. The realization that you have left it in your car knocking the air from your lungs. The man steps forward and Bruce’s growl intensifies, placing himself in between the two of you.

“FBI. You need to vacate before you do something you will regret.” You force the words out, your voice loud and stern, even as your tongue stick to the roof of your dry mouth. You hover your hand over your bare hip, hopping it will psych the man out as his eyes flicker between you and the dog.

He takes a step forward and you fall back one, Bruce retreating with you, the knowledge that you know he will attack on command giving you courage you don’t have. The giant holds up his full hands, his eyes darting behind you as he speaks. “We aren’t here to hurt you lady.”

“We?”

You don’t have the luxury to ponder what he means when something crashes over the back of your head. The sound of glass shattering fills the room, your knees hitting the hard wood floor soon follow. Black swims over your vision as you fall forward, barely catching yourself on your hands, the sting of glass cutting into your palms making your cry out.

A hair raising snarl rips through the room, Bruce launching himself at the man who just ambushed you from behind. Your ears start to ring and you gasp, trying to clear your vision as you sway on your hands a knees, you bloody palms slipping on the floor. A gut wrenching noise fills the air, teeth shredding through fabric and meat and a scream that makes you flinch.

Rough hands grab at your arms, hauling you up and the world around you swims and tilts, your head falling limply against your chest. There’s a thud and a whine that makes bile rise into your throat as you’re dragged towards your linen closet, mumbling negatives as you try to fight back.

“Shut the fuck up.” The man holding you shakes you by your shoulders, rattling you and your consciousness slips farther away. “Get the fucking door Mac.”

Mac. Mac. Mac.

Your sluggish brain chants the word as you’re hauled over to the dark closet, your body dragging across the floor. “Don’t… please…” With a loud sneer you’re stuffed in, unsure if the darkness surrounding you is from the door slamming shut or the last of your consciousness slipping away.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aaron stares down at his phone where it sits on his desk, silently willing the screen to light up as he taps an uneven tempo with his pen against his thigh. The final folder he needs to go through is laying untouched in the small metal basket, his attention fixated on the out of date cell Garcia is constantly hounding him over.

It’s nearing three hours since you left the office, and an anxious feeling is bubbling in his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart. You should have called by now, the text he sent an hour ago never answered. Were you ignoring him? Had something happened on your way home? A million different outcomes are ricocheting off of each other inside his skull.

“Hotch?” David’s voice makes him jump, spinning around in his chair to face David leaning in his doorway. “Everything alright?”

Aaron rubs his thumb across his fingers, a comforting tic he developed many years ago when he still lived with his father. Sighing Aaron drops his gave back to his phone. “I think something is wrong.”

David’s eyebrows inch up and he takes a few steps into the blandly decorated office. The only personal touches are the awards lining the dark walls and a few pictures of Jack. “What do you mean?”

Aaron takes a deep breath, “Y/n… She hasn’t called and I’ve already messaged her once…” Aaron bites his lip, shaking his head. “My gut tells me there is something wrong and I can’t get rid of the feeling.”

David only takes a moment to contemplate, nodding his head as he grabs the door. “Then we need to go.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

"HELP!" Your fists pound into the door, desperation and fear cracking your already strained voice.

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? The darkness surrounding you gives no answers away, and no matter how hard you push and pound on the door, there is no give.

It's all of those lonely dark years all over again, suffocating, hindering, debilitating. You scream for Bruce but there is no answer on the other side, no noises to let you know he is okay.

You’re cramped in the small space, the shelves above you preventing you from standing, the space becoming more and more claustrophobic. Tears choke your labored breathing, curling into yourself, deflating into sobs.

"Please... Please help me..."

*~*~*~*~*~*

It didn't take long for the two men to find your small white home, the faded numbers on your teal mail box still visible in the dying light of the setting sun. Aaron is overly aware of how the large black SUV stands out among the lower class suburb, but there doesn't seem to be a soul around to notice as he and David step out into the cold air. The house is dark on the inside, the front porch illuminated by the single strand of soft glowing Christmas lights that wrap the banister.

Aaron had called you once before leaving the building then again when they pulled onto your street, that creeping feeling of dreed now worming its way through the deepest parts of his guts. David glances to Aaron before leading the way to your door. It's painted the same sun-kissed color as your mailbox, but when David knocks it swings inward under his heavy fist.

Both men automatically draw their weapons, David glancing to Aaron who gives a curt nod before he pushes the door open all the way. In front of them is a long hallway, three doors on the wall to their left, an archway at the very end and another to the right. David gestures to the doors and Aaron veres to the right, noticing the small table with your cellphone on top. He turns the corner sharply, gun level and narrowed eyes scanning the dim room, the only light filtering in through sheer drapes.

The living room had been turned over, furniture pushed around or completely toppled over, once neatly placed books now litter the floor. There’s a pile of glass at his feet that looks like it had once been a vase, everything in his immediate vicinity is speckled with blood. A broken lamp lays on its side, the bulb flickering hauntingly, casting shadows about the room. Aaron can hear David on the other side of the wall, his steps just as measured and cautious in case someone is still lurking.

He makes it across the room, the trail of blood growing in volume, right at the entrance to your kitchen. It’s staining the walls and checkered linoleum floors, and Aaron can smell the copper tone in the air. His heart beats unsteadily, fear gripping him as he scans the trashed room spotting the blood soaked door. Making his way over he peaks out the window, finding a small, dark back yard.

“Clear!” He tells to David, who parrots the word back. Aaron’s heart is thumping wildly, his thoughts crescendoing, but as he is about to move away from the door a soft whine reaches his ears. He pears out the glass once more, this time a dog comes into view. He’s large, black and brown and Aaron can see blood covering the dog’s muzzle as he paces back and forth on the small patio, staring at Aaron expectantly.

Swallowing thickly Aaron looks around, grabbing a dish towel off of the counter and using it to turn the sticky door nob. The dog bursts through the door before Aaron can fully open it, bolting into the living room, David comes around the corner in time to see Aaron following the furry beast, his phone in hand ready to call the police.

The dog leads Aaron to a door tucked in the corner of the room, where he is pawing and whining at the white wood. There’s a china cabinet pushed tight against the door, bloody handprints smeared across the side and Aaron’s stomach drops with the realization. “Dave!”

The two men rush to the piece of furniture, heaving it away, Aaron’s hands slipping against the side of it. Once there is enough room Aaron throws open the door, his gaze meeting stacks of blankets and towels until his eyes drop to the ground.

You’re curled into the small space at the bottom, your arms thrown over your head, your shoulders shaking with each heaving sob. Instantly Aaron is taken back to just a few days ago when they found Jenny tucked into the crawl space. Bruce makes a gruff noise behind Aaron and the man drops to his knees in the doorway, relief and anger pooling in his soul as he takes in the state of you.

He reaches out, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder making your entire body jerk with a startled scream. Your head snaps up, eyes wild and unfocused as you press yourself further into the wall. Aaron holds up his hands, his voice taking on a soothing whisper. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me and David.” Tears relentlessly spill down your ruby cheeks, your chest rising and falling so fast and uneven that Aaron is afraid you are are going to hyperventilate.

Before he can say anything else though, you are scrambling towards him, throwing yourself against his chest with so much force you knock him backwards. His arms wrap around you and you let out the loudest sob he had ever heard, your fingers digging into his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline and you were stuck in an endless dark sea. Bruce tries to nudge his head between your bodies, his tail wagging slowly, as David takes a few steps back dialing 911.

Aaron gently strokes your hair, his eyes close as relief washes over him. “You’re safe, everything will be okay. We’ve got you.”

A strangled noise leaves your throat as you press your face in closer, your fingers shaking around the fistfuls of his shirt. “I-I… I got jumped.”

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk right now.” Aaron whispers, Bruce moving around to the other side, laying his head on Aaron’s thigh. Aaron drops a hand to the dog’s head, scratching him softly. “Good boy, you’re a good dog.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The neighbors began to a merge when the police lights filled the night sky, whispering amongst themselves and speculating what could have happened to their most quiet neighbor. Inside, the house is consumed with near chaotic energy. Bright flashes of lights from cameras, men yelling back and forth to each other across the house. People getting samples of the blood left, picking up pieces of your home, your life, to place into evidence baggies.

And in the center of it all sits you. You’re curled up on the couch, Aaron’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as Bruce lays on your feet, a middle aged EMT checking your blood pressure in front of you. You hadn’t stopped shaking since you left the closet, the adrenaline pumping through your system making it impossible to sit still.

The woman in front of you, her black hair slicked back into a small pony tail, her flawless dark face scrunched in concern; shines a small light into each of your eyes. “Your pupils are dilating like normal, but I would feel more comfortable if we loaded you up and took you to the hospital for further evaluation.”

You stare at her blankly for a moment, trying to focus on her words as the rest of the officers clatter around behind you. Aaron squeezes your hand, making you look up into his pinched face. “Oh… yeah, yes.” You mange, looking back to the woman. She gives you a gentle smile, a smile she has probably perfected with her job.

“Alright hun, let’s get you up.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s no secret that the entirety of the team hates hospitals. The fact that they are walking into the unknown of a sterilized building, with its overly bright lights and white walls, sets their nerves on edge. Everyone had gotten the same phone call from David, explaining that you had been attacked and were being taken to the hospital for further examination. Every single member of the team dropped what they were doing to get there, to get to you.

Morgan and Garcia are the first to arrive, having been just a few streets over at a local dive bar. The clicking of Garcia’s heels is loud in the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Morgan’s large hand rests on the small of her back as they follow the directions of the receptionist, the instant relief they felt learning that you were in a common room like a flood of cold water on a hot day.

As they round the next corner Morgan’s eyes land on an open door just down the short hallway. He drags Garcia to a stop, his mouth falling open in stunned silence. “What?” Garcia’s snaps, the incredulous look she gives him wiped away when he points.

Just ahead they can see you perched on the edge of a hospital bed, a white sheet pulled across your lap, your forehead resting against Aaron Hotchner’s sternum. He’s rubbing slow circles against your back with one large palm, and they are able to make out the slight movement of his lips as he speaks with you in a hushed voice. Your arms are thrown around his waist, bobbing your head to whatever is being said before you lean back to look up at the older man. Aaron leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and Garcia nearly collapses on the spot, her hand flying to her mouth to keep any noise from escaping.

“What in the…” David steps out of the room before Morgan can finish, pulling the heavy wooden door closed behind him as he spots his coworkers. A small smile tugs at his lips as he ambled over to them, meeting them halfway in the hall.

“What was that?” Garcia hisses, rushing up to the older man as fast as her heels will allow.

“That… was none of your business.” David says nonchalantly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans.

Morgan scoffs, keeping his voice low in case either of you were to open the door. “That was most definitely something. How long has this been a thing? And with Hotch of all people?”

David finds it difficult to hold in his chuckle at the incredulous look the male gives him, even harder still when Garcia slaps Morgan on the arm. “Be nice.”

“Look. It isn’t my place to say anything, but,” He pauses to gage their faces. “It’s quite new. Now, coffee anyone?”

David strolls away without letting them get another word in, whistling a tune from an old opera. Garcia turns to Morgan with a bright smile, her excitement barely contained making her shoulders and hands shake. Morgan rolls his eyes and gestures to the door.

After Garcia is able to calm herself down Morgan pushes the door open with a soft knock. Aaron is now seated across the room, and you’re slouched on the bed with an ice pack pressed to the back of your head. You look up as they enter, your normally clear eyes red and puffy, your hair disheveled and your nice new clothes wrinkled. You looked shocked to see them, glancing back and forth between the pair.

Garcia rushes you, dropping her bag on the bed and swallowing you in a tight hug. The discomfort you would have felt just this morning at the sudden embrace isn’t there as you hug her back just as tight. “Oh my gosh… are you okay?” You nod as she pulls back, her eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah… just a slight concussion. They are bringing me my discharge papers soon.” You smile weakly up at Garcia, your eyes jumping to Morgan.

“Heya, sweet cheeks.” He says softly, Garcia moving to the side as Morgan takes a seat on the edge of your bed by your legs. He reaches up and touches your chin softly as he scans your face, looking for whatever it is he needs to be reassured you’re okay. “What happened?”

You fiddle with your ice pack for a moment, a knife of embarrassment slashing through you as your shoulders slump forward. “I got home and there was a man robbing my home. I… I left my gun in the car and since I was so focused on the man in front of me I didn’t see the other guy come up from behind. He knocked me over the head and…”

Aaron watches as you shift in your spot, your throat working as you swallow, trying to force the memories and emotions down. “I passed out. I know Bruce got one of them though, my house is covered in blood.”

“Bruce?” Asks Garcia.

“My dog.”

“That means he will be headed to one of the hospitals, a dog bite can be nasty and they might not be skilled enough to take care of it on their own depending on where he got bite.” Morgan nods his head thoughtfully, turning to look at Aaron.

“I already have the local police canvassing the nearest hospital and urgent care phacillities. We will have a blood match if he goes anywhere.” Aaron’s face is lined with worry and anger, a mutual feeling growing in Morgan’s chest.

“Good. Do you remember anything at all about the two men?” Morgan turns back to you, watching as you pick at the itchy blanket in your lap. It’s unnerving seeing your normal stoic persona cracked in half, and yet he’s relieved to know that there is some emotion underneath.

“I only saw one of them, and even then he was wearing a ski mask. His hands were white, his voice plain, he was very tall though, took up most of my foray into the kitchen… one of their names was Mac.”

“We can work with that.” Garcia reassures you, her hand rubbing your back. You nod, the door to your room opening at the same time to reveal a worried looking Reid, JJ, and Prentiss.

As well as they can, they try not to swarm you; each of the women giving you tight hugs and words of relief. When Reid finally makes his way to you, you pull him in for a hug, the shock on his face enough to make most everyone chuckle.

By the time the nurse comes to discharge you, she’s met with a room full of FBI agents. She smiles a little nervously at everyone as she makes her way to you.

“Here you go. Now, get a lot of rest, that means both mentally and physically. Come back immediately if there is any sudden change in your condition, vomiting, dizziness, strong fatigue.” Everyone is nodding along to the nurses instructions, as if they will be the ones making sure you follow doctors orders.

“Thank you.” You take the papers flipping through them as she leaves. Aaron watches you, your body still taught, despite the defeated set of your shoulders. He wants nothing more than to get you alone and finally talk about everything that had happened. To see if you will open up to him.

“Do you need a ride?” Garcia asks, standing up from her chair.

“Oh um no thank you. Hotch and Rossi drove me here, they said they’d take me back to my neighbors house who offered to let me and Bruce spend the night.” The lie that rolls off of your tongue is so believable even Aaron is questioning if that’s what you think will really happen once you’re out of here.

Garcia only nods, throwing an arm around your shoulders and hugging you once again.

*~*~*~*~*~*

ONE LAST CHAPER YOU GUYS 😭😭😭 it’s coming very soon. Like probably tomorrow or the day after I’m crying. 😭😭😭

Tag List: @kneelforloki @hmett20 @axionn @ncis0mrs0gibbs @morgthemagpie @zaddyhotch @little-miss-cherry-cola @fandomawesomness @heart-breaker8 @aad1993 @obsessed-oops @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @rosiehale23 @emptybagofchips77 @icarusgloom @imr0nni3 @cashtons-wife @mojo366 @mrsgweasley @hotchners-wifey @lelevs @normaltuesdaynight @tgskitten @char-jlhewitt @shinebrightlikeafanbase @emobabeyy @bunbunbl0gs @turtleshavesoulmates @mrs-ssa-hotch @balariie @eveyez-exe @nachofriess @aangell333 @wisdomcrys

[whlfchn]

18+ rating! minors do not interact!

wc: 1.4k genre: no plot just smut! very long drabble?! warnings: fem!reader, some teasing, dry humping, very little nipple play, praising, profanity, dirty talk, unprotected sex, soft!dom chan authors note: this is a rewrite and reupload of my first ever bang chan fic I uploaded months ago on my old blog! no plot just smut! I wrote a lot more than I intended lol!

[ Midnight ] The sound of movement and heavy breathing bounced off the walls of the dark and chilly studio. A soft glow emanated from the now neglected laptop.  

Chills run down your spine and your senses heightened as the feel of Chan’s touch engulfs you. 

"Babygirl, I should be working right now," he murmured as you left soft kisses on his neck. Your body is straddling his lap on the soft black leather couch. 

Your hands pull on his curly hair just the way he likes. His hands caressing your thighs and slowly making their way up to grab at the clothed skin that's rocking back and forth against his hard length that is straining against his pants.

“I have a lot of songs I need to work on,” he grunts. His voice is raspy and demanding. Slowly losing control and focus as his hands guide your ass to grind harder against his lap.

“Please… I need to feel you inside me,” you cried out. A hand raked through his hair and tugged on the curls as your other hand is tracing the outline of his plump bottom lip that was trapped in between his teeth. Pulling on the flesh and freeing them. Finally pushed over the edge, he lost control and forgot all about the unfinished work on his laptop.

“Always so needy,” he teases. Lightly slapping your hand away from his lips to bring his fingers against yours. Tracing your lips just as you did with his.

 Shoving two fingers inside your mouth. You immediately suck and tease while looking into his eyes. Wishing it was more than just those long veiny fingers.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth. Latching his lips onto your neck and sucking the soft supple flesh. Proceeding to bite those same marks. Then licking it to soothe the skin before latching onto another spot and showing the same intoxicating pain that you loved so much.

Your breath hitches and you bite your lip harshly trying to suppress your moans from any passers-by in the building. All the nerves in your body are lighting like a fire. Feeling his hard length underneath, you couldn't take it anymore.

You pulled on his hair, causing him to detach from your neck, and in a split second, you slammed your lips on his. Teeth clicking and tongues swirling. His erection is even more prominent than before. It was all too much for him.

He never loved anyone the way he loves you. You took care of him, had a lot of patience, listened to him, and loved him for him. You drove him crazy both emotionally and physically. You were his drug.

He placed his hands on your thighs and gave a light squeeze silently telling you to hold on. In one swift movement, he picked you up and flipped you so you were laying down on the couch beneath him.

He hovers above you slamming his lips back onto yours. One hand next to your head holding himself up as the other grabs your thigh and wraps it around his waist. His hips grinding and pounding against your wet clothed core. 

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispers in between kisses.

His hand on your thigh caresses the soft skin as it gets closer to your waist. His fingers play with the waistband of your shorts while devouring your mouth in a kiss. Your whines allow him to slip his tongue further down your throat. Winning the dominance over you. 

Long fingers slide inside the waistband of your shorts and panties. His fingers enter you within an instant. Your moans are suppressed by the lip play. 

You instantly squeeze around his fingers making his head spin. He grunts into the kiss and starts pumping in and out of you. Adding another finger. Stretching you out and getting you ready for him.

Your cold fingers make their way under his shirt. His warm body shudders at the contact. Your hand tugging on the fabric wanting him to take it off. 

He takes his fingers out of you causing you to whine at the loss of contact. He takes his shirt off and throws it to the side.

You lift your upper body and cross your arms taking off your shirt. As soon as it's off, he pushes you back down and his lips find yours. 

His lips trail away from yours and slowly make their way down. His lips find their way to your bra. Biting and tugging the material. Cold fingers caressing your body causing you to shudder and arch your back. One hand slipping behind your back and taking off your bra with ease.

His tongue making its way to your hardened peak. Swirling and sucking with such hunger. A hand rubbing and twisting the other. Moans leaving your lips like music to his ears. His priority is to make you feel good and show you just how much you mean to him. That only he could do this to you. Only his name could leave those beautiful lips. And only he could see and touch you like this.

He pulls away and starts kissing further down your body getting closer to your waistband. He pushes your shorts and panties down leaving you completely naked.

Seeing you like this was torture for him. His erection was almost painful now. Wanting to take his time with you and show you his love, but also wanting to fuck you senseless.

Shoving your legs further open with his knee so he could get a better look at your aching core.

“Fuck, baby. You're so wet,” he says as he takes his fingers sliding up and down your folds.

“I'm going to fucking ruin you,” he mutters.

He stands up as you watch his every move, eyes never leaving his form. He smirks and slowly pulls down his pants and boxers. His hard length was in plain sight making your mouth water.

“Don't tease me,” you whined and pouted.

“Patience baby. Be a good girl for me.” he teased while getting on top of you.

Lips finding yours. He sucks your bottom lip and rolls your tongues together as he spreads your legs even further apart.

“Ready baby?” he whispers.

“Yes. Please give it to me?” you murmur.

With your confirmation, he quickly thrusts into you. Loud moans leave both of your lips. Squeezing on his length as your back arches and you adjust to his size.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good,” he grunts.

He slowly pumps in and out of you. His thrusts get faster and faster. The erotic sounds of smacking flesh fill the room, drowning out the moans that are leaving your lips. Hearing the sweet sounds you make encourages him to fuck you even harder and faster. 

“You're doing so well baby,” he says before nuzzling his face into your neck as he fucks you senseless. Leaving soft kisses along your jawline.

Lifting himself upwards as he puts your legs on his shoulder so he can pound into you even harder while taking one hand to your clit and rubbing it at a fiery speed.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you bite your lips very hard to suppress your moans. In an instant, Chan notices and slows down the pace.

“Is this okay? You like that?” 

“Fu-fuck… yes… so much… don't stop,” you managed to say as you made eye contact with him.

“Good girl,”

He speeds his movements back up, grunting at how perfect you feel.

“Fa-faster,” you stutter, gripping the couch.

“Yes… Right there,”

His fingers attack your clit faster and faster. You feel your walls fluttering against his length. Your eyes roll back, and your hips shake. Your walls spasm and contract. Chan quickly covers your mouth with his hand silencing the loud moan leaving your mouth as you release.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him pushes him to the edge. He quickly takes your legs off his shoulders going back to missionary pounding into you even faster. Kissing you to quiet your whimpers and moans. Your core is overstimulated and not yet recovered from your orgasm. His thrusts get sloppier.

“Fu-Fuck,” he mutters into the crook of your neck as he empties himself into you. 

Shockwaves grip your body from the overstimulation. Chan stills his body and pants while on top of you. Rubbing circles on his back and kissing his cheek as he comes down from his high.

“I love you,” he whispers as he turns his head to look at you. Engraving every little detail about your face into his mind.

“I love you too,” you say before entrapping him in a blissful and passionate kiss.

disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the names are used for purely fictional purposes!

please reblog and leave a like! feedback is greatly appreciated and it motivates me to write more! I read it all and am so thankful for each of you!

~ masterlist ~

[tokkiwrites]

ㅡㅡㅡ in which tangerine lets his heart (for the most part) dictate him around.

TW: dark!Tangerine (pls everyone this is not cute hes literally a stalker lol), fem!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, mention of killing people and knifes, stalking, toxic relationship, use of pet names (love, bunny, sweetheart), unprotected p in v (dont look at me, wrap your weewee), dirty talk (kind of), lmk if i missed anything.

Tangerine had always been a shadow in the dimly lit world of contract killers, a name whispered in hushed tones among those who knew. His reputation was one of cold precision, a man who eliminated his targets with a ruthless efficiency that bordered on artistry. But behind the facade of the heartless assassin, there existed a secret, a gnawing obsession that threatened to consume him.

It began innocently enough, with stolen glances from the window of his spartan apartment across the street. She was just a random girl, a stranger in the vast tapestry of the city, but there was something about her that captivated him. He didn't know her name. Didn't bother to look for it, find more about herㅡㅡ he enjoyed it that way... for a bit.

she had an air of innocence that contrasted sharply with Tangerine's dark world. Maybe that's what has drawn him to her. Every evening, he would watch her from the shadows, the soft glow of her apartment window casting a warm, inviting light into his own life of iniquity. It became a routine.

APRIL 23rd. ㅡ blued my bruise.

As the weeks turned into months, Tangerine's infatuation deepened. He knew he should have focused on his missions, honed his lethal skills, and remained emotionally detached, but he couldn't help himself. He started collecting snippets of her life, learning her routines, her likes and dislikes, and even the name of her perfume that occasionally wafted through his open window. He kept a journal filled with details about her, a chilling testament to his obsession.

His thoughts became a maddening storm of contradictions. On one hand, he longed to approach her, introduce himself, and let her know how deeply he cared. On the other, he knew the darkness that coursed through his veins, the blood on his hands that would surely taint any chance at a normal life. The conflict between his life as Tangerine, the ruthless assassin, and his love for that girl across the street tore at his soul, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed façade he had built over the years.

Tangerine stood at the precipice of a choice that could define the rest of his life. He was trapped between the world of ruthless violence and the alluring promise of love and normalcy.

The girl remained the unspoken focal point of his existence, a beacon of hope in the midst of chaos. Yet, he was acutely aware that his actions had consequences, and his desire to protect her might eventually collide with the ruthless pursuit of his job.

His path was fraught with danger, as he navigated the thin line between his love for the girl and the haunting shadows of his past. Torn between his obsession and his duty as a protectorㅡㅡ as he liked to call it.

AUGUST 17th. pink me with ties.

Tangerine's obsession had become all-encompassing, driving him to meticulously study the girl's life, dissecting every relationship that entered her world. His mind, once focused on the cold precision of his assassinations, had now turned into a labyrinth of paranoia and possessiveness.

mine.

Whenever the girl expressed interest in a potential love interest, Tangerine took it as a personal affront. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else occupying the space in her heart that he believed was rightfully his. In his mind, eliminating these perceived threats was the only way to maintain his fragile grip on her life.

mine. mine.

As he tracked these individuals, Tangerine started to eliminate them in a chillingly systematic fashion. He rationalized his actions, convincing himself that he was safeguarding the girl from anyone who might harm her or take her away from him. Tangerine saw them as competition, and he couldn't allow any potential rival to exist.

mine. mine. mine.

One by one, they disappeared, leaving behind a trail of confusion and fear. Tangerine's cold efficiency in eliminating these perceived threats left no room for error. The girl, oblivious to the sinister presence hovering around her life, began to notice the gradual erosion of her friends and potential partners.

she is mine.

Each disappearance, each life he extinguished, left a mark on his soul, tarnishing the love he believed he felt for the girl. It was more than thatㅡㅡ he thinks. He knows... He knows she feels it, too.

What had once been a misguided attempt at protecting her had now transformed into a cycle of violence and despair. He found himself plagued by obsession.

In the midst of the chaos and darkness that his obsession had wrought, Tangerine found himself grappling with the profound truth that this was more than just love—it was an all-consuming affliction that had poisoned their lives. He realized that she, too, felt the suffocating presence of his fixation, though she remained unaware of its source.

it's okay, I'm here, love. I'm here for you. You feel it, can't you?

NOVEMBER 1st. black my bones.

there she is. she's so beautiful.

he spotted her with... a man. when will she learn?

A surge of jealousy and anger coursed through him, intensifying the relentless grip of his obsession. His heart pounded, and a sinister determination took hold. He couldn't bear the thought of another man so close to her. She was his. she knew that, didn't she?

He tracked the man, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"oi, there. mind tellin' me the time?"

"sure, dude. it's uh-- oh! 8pm."

Tangerine steps closer.

"sorry, mate. didn't hear ya, mind tellin me again?"

"yeah, 8pm, manㅡ" shunk.

then a scream. agony, a warm feeling, and for a moment, silence. a loud thud echoed through the dark alleyway as the man's body fell to the ground. he was choking on his own blood, the blade still lodged in his neck.

"i hate doin this mate, but you guysㅡ you guys never learn, getting so close to her... too close."

with a swift motion, he takes the knife out, wiping it lazily onto the brick wall before he throws it in the nearby sewer opening.

" 's fine, though. as long as she's alright, yeah?"

he twists a smile from his lips, strolling onto the main street.

his.

DECEMBER 15th. purple my eyes.

This was finally the day.

He chose a moment when she was alone in a park, her vulnerability a stark contrast to the man she didn't know she had been living under the watchful eye of. As he approached, his cold demeanor had softened somewhat, but a lingering sense of menace clung to him.

"hello, love." Tangerine said, his voice tinged with an eerie charm, a stark contrast to the chilling reality of his actions. "couldn't help but notice you from where i was sittin'. sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, wanted to say how gorgeous you look."

"oh, hi." she replied, bubbly. "thank you. means a lot when I'm quite literally dressed as a trash bag." then she laughed.

her laugh. if he could inject it through his veins, he would.

"name's Tangerine. Yours?"

MARCH 3rd. red my mind

She couldn't help but fall deeper for him. i mean, how could she not? he knew everything she liked, hated. he knew when to leave her alone, when to keep her closeㅡ he was perfect.

the fact he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen was a plus. always dressed to impress, curly hair stiled back, always smelled like she could devour him. and god, that mustache. it was all she ever wanted... and he knew it.

"tan?" she'd been thinking about it. they'd known each other ㅡ well, she knew him for about 3 months, but he came when she needed someone the most. she almost felt dependent on him, like he saved her from something she didn't even know was coming.

"yeah, love?"

"i think...I'm ready toㅡ you know."

she wasn't a virgin. sure as hell felt like one though. she can't remember the last time she had sex. so she knew Tangerine would make this moment special. For her.

"you sure, sweetheart?"

god.

"yes, very sure."

he nods his head before reaching out for her face, rough hands cupping his reddened cheeks. "I'll take such good care of you tonight, bunny." she hums.

leaning into his touch, her whole body turns to goo when Tangerine's hand moves to her lower back and traces the ridge of her spine. "so pretty." she can't help but giggle.

with a few moves, he takes off most of her clothes, some of his too. they were now both left in their underwear, staring at one another as in a silent dance. Tangerine takes a handful of her breasts, guiding her slowly to lie back down on the mattress. The silk covers crinkled around their weight.

he leans down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, whilst one of his palms slides down to her panties. he smirks once he senses the wet spot etched into them.

"so fuckin' soaked for me, love."

"just f-for you."

he knows.

"barely touched you though. are you that desperate for me to fill that tight cunt of yours? ㅡ hm, c'mon, talk to me, bunny."

she feels so small, so helpless. so pathetic. but she loves every second of it.

"please, need you toㅡ to feel me up...tan, please."

"shh, i got ya." in one swoop, he removes both their underwear, practically ripping them off of her, earning a soft moan from the sprawled out girl under him.

Tangerine lets his fingers pass through her wet folds, gathering all the juices before he shoves two digits deep inside of her. he pumps them slowly, letting the poor girl buck her hips against nothing as she desperately yearned for more.

"so tight, bunny. so tight 'n pretty." he preps kisses over her belly and pussy as those two fingers work her out, making a mess of her.

"p-pleaseㅡ gimme.."

"give ya what, sweetheart?" she whines. he knows what she wantsㅡㅡ needs.

"inside, put it i-insideㅡ"

he scoffs, taking out his fingers and leaving her to squeeze around nothing. they lock eyes and he brings those two fingers to her lips, urging them open. "suck. show me, c'mon."

she does just that. swirling her tongue and suckling on those digits like her life depended on it. "good girl. good fuckin' girl" he praises.

with those sleek fingers he drags them along her body and down to her pulsing clit as the other hand wraps around his shaft, pumping it. her eyes roll back, scooting closer to Tangerine, doing anything to get him inside of her.

"you ready, bunny?"

she was. she was also scared. it's why she tried so hard to not look at the monster in front of her: long, girthy, pulsing ar every breath Tangerine took.

"mhm, hurry ㅡ please."

"needy girl." chuckling, he gathers some of her slick with his tip, teasing at her clit and making her moan desperately. with a few more seconds passing, he finally decides to push inside.

god. it hurts.

so bad.

so good.

"shit, loveㅡ so fuckin' tight and wet for me, huh?"

and he goes at it. likes there's no tomorrow, he rams into her, just like he imagined for the past year he would one day. she's his. his. his to take and ruin and taint and love.

his.

his.

"fuckin' hellㅡㅡ" tangerine chokes back a moan as he steadily grabs at her hips, his tight hold surely leaving marks that'll hold like stains for weeks. he plunges deep into her, leaving no room for air. holding her close, he kisses her all over, listening to the sweet sounds that dripped from her lips like honey��ㅡ like poison.

"shit, tanㅡ 'm gonna.."

"it's okay, bunny. let go, go ahead."

bliss. ecstasy. she gasps and hold onto him. it feels like she's falling and floating, plummeting to the ground but flying to the clouds.

they kiss. he was so hungry.

she's his.

"thank you." she smiles up at him.

you red my mind.

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : HEY YALL SPECIAL TAN FIC FOR A SPECIAL SOMEONE WINK WINK. this has only 2.1k words SORRAY!!!! grammatical errors cuz its not proofread. ALSO TYSM FOR 100 FOLLOWS YAY I LITERALLY LOVE U ALL SM MUAH!!!!!

[kleinblue52]

It's been a little over a month since my second time at Next to Normal London and I have some thoughts

(note: this was mostly translated from a review I wrote in Italian so some phrasing might sound strange)

Like many of you, I knew Next to Normal thanks to several videos of the original Broadway production, while my first time live was with the good Italian adaptation directed by Marco Iacomelli. It’s a musical that I have always appreciated and admired, but for some reason, there had never been the emotional impact necessary to make me feel like it was mine. The original version was chronologically closer to the end of the nineties than any subsequent production and I believe that the influence of the analytical deconstruction of the American nuclear family so relevant in the culture of those years (think of American Beauty) greatly influenced how the musical was originally conceived. In the direction, in the performances of the original cast, in the visuals, I have always found a coldness that led the libretto towards biting and detached social criticism rather than emotional involvement. Obviously, I do not believe this is a flaw, on the contrary. I really appreciate the analytical approach to social criticism and I believe that in this Next to Normal was revolutionary in its genre. But a lot of time has passed since then and many things have changed in the way we perceive the concepts of family, social relationships, neurodivergence and gender. The thing that surprises me most, from a personal point of view, is that along with all this I also feel changed and the more the years pass the more I realize that intellectualism is not everything and that it’s so important to consume art that expresses pure and raw human experience, that shows open wounds without fear of being accused of excessive emotionality. Until a few years ago, the social attitude towards artistic experiences so shamelessly sincere in showing feelings branded them as superficial. Today, I believe, the trend is changing, the new generations are discovering the importance of sensitivity and fragility that doesn’t need to be hidden, which is no longer accompanied by a sense of shame and inferiority. This is the new Next to Normal. It is no longer the show of 2008, it is no longer a successful exercise in style that wants to say in music what Sam Mendes had said in film, what Jeffrey Eugenides and Sofia Coppola had said with their Virgin Suicides.

Next to Normal is now pure and raw life. It is the human experience that shows itself in all its incoherence, without fear of going straight to the heart, without fear of staging a melodrama in which there are no winners and no heroes, definitely without fear of making the audience uncomfortable. An audience that, if truly sensitive, will find something of their own personal chaos in the chaos of what is shown to us.

The price of love is loss, but still we pay, we love anyway. This, in my opinion, is the key lyric of this new identity of Next to Normal, a lyric that in its most intimate nature had not really found expression in the previous and more “clinical” versions of the musical. It is a sentence that for the first time truly speaks to the heart and expresses a chilling truth, which we must all accept as a rule of life and which all the characters on stage must accept by extension. You will always lose what you love, in one way or another. It is not just about the loss of Gabe. Diana loses herself along with her son, but she also loses the love of her life and loses the chance to be a mother to Natalie. Natalie loses faith in the possibility of changing and getting out of the unhealthy relationships of her family, ending up a victim, with the only glimmer of hope represented by Henry. Dan loses the girl he had loved and the boy he had been and, for the love of Natalie, he manages to save his sanity, but he loses the opportunity to know what it feels like to be a father to Gabe. Caissie Levy, Jamie Parker, Eleanor Worthington-Cox all have the ability to manifest the most intimate, difficult, disturbing part of their characters. They are people who are losing themselves and everything they believe in and like anyone with a heartbeat, the attitude in the face of loss is fear, anger, an extreme attempt to cling to what can be saved. It is not always pleasant to see, as I said there are no heroes on that stage and the three actors lose themselves into performances that seem to have no safety net.

Then there is Gabe. I have great respect for many of the actors who played him in the past, but theirs was the Gabe suited to that historical moment. He was the perfect varsity jock that every American soccer mom wanted: handsome, athletic, self-confident. With an unsolved mystery inside, which emerged restless and dangerous. In this new era in which sensitivity is the only weapon to counteract the lack of humanity that the world offers us, Jack Wolfe gives us a Gabe who is delicate, fragile, ambiguous, selfish and desperately attached to "life".

Every look, every gesture, every expression aided by Wolfe's enormous expressive eyes show us a Gabe who is not the projection of an ideal, but something much more terrible: he is the projection of disease, a shield that Diana uses to protect herself from reality, not by creating a perfect version of the son she never had, but by creating a codependent version of a son who will never leave her. Everything in Wolfe's Gabe speaks of a morbid attachment that Diana creates as the only way to ensure that Gabe never leaves her, using him to push Natalie and Dan away, shaping him in her mind as a boy who will never replace his mother with another woman. Just this morning I read that Michael Longhurst, the director, openly said that he took inspiration from his adolescence as a homosexual boy for his version of the character. The very strong queer-coding of this version of Gabe is perfect for this new vision of a codependent relationship and elevates the drama of loss to something heartbreaking and apparently with no escape. The other incredible aspect of the new direction of this new Gabe, and of the performance, is that for the first time the character made me feel uneasy. I thought after this second viewing that it would take very few changes to transform this production of Next to Normal into a real psychological horror in which the ghosts are pure destructive energy linked to the lack of a clear break with their life on earth. Because if we move away from the vision of Gabe as a projection of the disease, if we accept Gabe as an almost supernatural manifestation of unresolved mourning, the character in Wolfe's hands takes on frightening twists. His Gabe has the attitude of a newborn who has grown only in body. His needs are still the primary ones of the child he was when he died, his attachments are so strong and primordial that they lead him to challenge anyone who questions them. His need to have his mother by his side leads him to be destructive, but with all the naivety of a child who does not understand the consequences of his actions. From this point of view, There’s a World becomes a moment that really gives you the shivers, full as it is of all the need of a child who cannot imagine anything outside of his own needs. A child who, out of excess love, hugs his puppy too tightly and ends up suffocating it.

Finally, since I have already gone on too long, I just wanted to add how that hunger for love translates in this production also into a need to rediscover love for oneself, which however in the borderline situation described in the story becomes an unhealthy condition: the continuous parallels between Diana and Natalie, masterfully interpreted by the two actresses, show us the dark and self-destructive side of Diana, trapped in an infinite cycle of need to rediscover herself and need to love her daughter that transform into envy for the potential that her daughter still has ahead of her and that she has left behind. These types of parallels are often found between the characters and find a touching expression in the physicality of the actors, as in the choice to create continuous references between Diana and Gabe's movements, even before the audience becomes aware of the bond between the two. Every acting choice, every directorial choice, everything brings into that rational and linear kitchen (the Bauhaus poster is brilliant) the most twisted, confused, desperate and breathless aspect of the human experience. Next to Normal, in this version, is truly not just a show, it is a mirror.

[soft--dragon]

Crashing For The Night

Whoop whoop first Spiderverse fic!! :D This is set in an alternate or future universe where all the spider people can freely jump dimensions to see people they know and everything is chill.

(The last spider-verse movie gave me the big sad and I'm hoping the third one gives us an ending where the spiders can see each other whenever they want)

ALL PLATONIC, PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Word Count: 2,225

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

“Oi bruv, tip for being quiet? Stop tramping around like a cobbler up there, you’re gonna put scuff marks on me ceiling.”

Hobie turned his head fractionally to side-eye the roof of his London apartment, and as he expected, a familiar black and red spider suit rippled into sight. A loud sigh was released from the intruder.  

“Thought I was getting better at this,” Miles muttered bitterly. 

“Gotta be slicker than that to catch me off guard, mate,” Hobie smirked and turned to lean against his desk, waving a hand to the boy. “Now get off the bloody roof, would ya?”

Miles sighed again and let his feet detach from the wooden planks, leaving a hand to suspend him over the floor before dropping lightly onto the thick carpet. “Um… sorry for sneaking in.”

“Aye, I’m not miffed about it, Gwendy’s done it enough for me to be used to spiders creeping in at random times.”

Hobie hefted himself off of the desk and approached the smaller teen, taking stock of his heavy undereye bags and wilted posture. With a long eye roll, he slung a gangly arm around Miles’s shoulders and pressed him against his side, feeling the boy melt against him and drop most of his weight against the taller Spiderman. 

Hobie frowned deeper in concern. “You alright, mate?” He asked, his thick, British accent softened for the kid he was embracing gently. It felt like one squeeze too hard would shatter the poor spiderling. 

The muted traffic honking outside Hobie’s window filled the quiet his query left behind - Miles oddly silent in Hobie’s one-armed hug and head heavy on the taller teen’s shoulder. Hobie let the lack of reply hang for a moment before gently tugging Miles over to the blanket-laden couch. He flopped down, dragging Miles onto the cushions with him, and propped his boot up onto the coffee table. 

“C’mon mate, you look utterly zonked. What happened?” 

Miles huffed softly, his lips twitching at Hobie’s odd slang. However, his brief glint of amusement died as quickly as it had arrived. He messed with his fingernails, trying to focus on something else besides the tight ball of anxiety that had been rolling in his gut for the better part of the last hour.

“Just…, my parents again.” His voice lacked its usual spark, something Hobie caught onto immediately and hummed.

“ ‘Nother spat, huh?”

Miles groaned and dragged his hands over his face, staring at the wood ceiling and noticing a slight scuff mark his Jordans undoubtedly made. He hoped Hobie didn’t see them too. “They’re being a bit too much lately- and I know they’re just looking out for me, I know that, but they’re always- they just- ughh.” 

Miles pulled away from the taller boy to lean his elbows on his knees and bury his eyes into his palms, exhaling heavily. Hobie just rubbed his back and waited patiently. He’d been faced with this kind of behavior before - after all, you didn’t make friends with Gwen Stacey and not have a fair share of emotionally overwhelmed moments. A moment or two passed, and then Miles lifted his face from his hands to interlock his fingers in front of his chin, using his thumbs to balance his jaw.

“...They’re always trying to control my life in some way or another. I feel… I don’t know, suffocated? I- ugh, god, that sounds harsh- I’m happy they’re there, obviously. I just can’t handle it twenty-four-seven. You know?” 

Hobie nodded at the end of Miles's speedy rambles, patting his back gently. "Hover parenting, huh? Sounds like a damn nightmare." 

Miles grumbled and flopped back onto the couch, crossing his arms tightly. "Yeah… I’m just worried that if I tell them to back off they'll be offended and ground me." 

"Just like the government," Hobie clicked his tongue, "always trying to make the people do what they want and punishing the lot of them when they rebel" 

Miles huffed a small laugh and turned his head to look up at Hobie in fond amusement. "You're genuinely comparing my parents' helicopter parenting to government control?" 

Hobie shrugged. "My brand, innit? I see an opportunity, I'll take it." 

"Jeez man," Miles chuckled, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. 

"Oi, don't diss my mannerisms mate, besides, it made you laugh didn't it?" 

Miles rolled his eyes and balanced his cheek on his fist, smirking up at the taller boy under a dry, half-lidded stare. "Sure." 

The punk-coded Spiderman frowned, leaning forward into the younger boy's space. "You being sarcastic with me?" 

"Wha- me? Me? No, I would never." Hobie was elated to see Miles grinning as he spoke, holding his hands up in surrender. 

As Hobie glared playfully at him, he saw past Miles's undereye bags and exhausted frame - noticing the spark in his eyes was starting to return. Hmm, good. It was time to make it come back entirely. Hobie didn’t like seeing his little brother so low. ‘Annoying, yet well-meaning Big Brother’ was gonna have to come out and play now. 

Never none to delay an opportunity to make Miles's mood improve, Hobie straightened his posture to prepare for his future scheme. “I don’t like liars, Morales,” he said, snatching the boy into his arms in a quick movement, one arm wrapped around Miles’ torso while the free hand scrubbed ruthlessly over his mop of thick curls. “And my spider senses tell me ya fibbin’.” 

“Ack- Hobie!” Miles's choked outcry was quickly swallowed up by his peals of laughter, Hobie’s knuckles having jumped from his hair to dig into his ribcage. “Nohoho! Nohohot thahahat!”

The boy immediately tried to wrench himself away from the British Spiderman, his legs flying out and catching the coffee table, causing it to rattle loudly. 

Hobie let out a bemused breath, flipping Miles onto his back and leering down at him with a playful glare. “Oh, so you first scuffed up my ceiling and now you’re damaging my furniture? That’s not on, little spiderling.”

Miles's shoulders bounced with his bright cackles, folding into himself as nimble fingers fluttered across his sides and abdomen quickly, light as air and shifting too fast for him to figure out a way to fight back. 

Desperate to weasel himself out of the unexpected attack he gasped out, “I-ihihihi- I dihihidn’t schuhuhuff yohour ceilihihing!” It felt like a flimsy rebuttal even to him. Hobie clearly thought so too when he scoffed with an amused grin. 

“I have eyes, you bellend, I can see the marks clear as day. And you know what you’ve just done? You lied again. Seriously, who taught you to be such a delinquent?” 

Oh man, Miles was gonna regret answering that, but the opportunity was right there. Summoning the same courage he used when facing down Miguel, he shot back, “Yohou dihihid!” 

Hobie paused in his mischievous actions, looking down at Miles who was doing his best to sink into the older boy’s legs and hopefully disappear from existence. He was watching closely as Hobie absorbed that answer, nervous giggles sputtering out of him the longer the silence dragged out - both from the anticipation and the aftermath of the sudden tickle attack. Then, finally, Hobie grinned, ominous yet proud at the same time. 

“Damn right I did,” he said after a moment, then the other shoe dropped. “Now, I gotta show you what happens to delinquents who don’t know when to run when they’ve been given a chance to escape.”

The reply made Miles balk, a delayed folly of a getaway ruined when Hobie latched onto his upper rib cage and dug his thumbs into Miles’s armpits. The sound that was wrangled out of the boy was both comically loud and hilarious, a squeaky yelp chased by peals of wild laughter. 

Miles curled into a ball, legs kicking out from where they were sprawled out across the couch cushions while his torso bent and squirmed from Hobie’s lap. His gasps of laughter were punctuated by voice cracks, the tail end of puberty still clinging to Miles though he tried to convince himself he’d finished with it. 

Hobie’s sinister smirk melted into a warm grin, laughing a bit himself. “Are you trying to high beam your worst spot to the world with your suit, Miles? You’ve literally got red highlights as racing stripes under your armpits. You’re lucky a supervillain hasn’t caught onto the obvious clue yet, you’d be as good as done for.”

Miles grabbed at Hobie’s wrists, shaking his head from side to side to bear the rushing tingles twirling throughout his nervous system that made his spider-sense go skewed and essentially shut down - conflicted with the threat of a possible danger and Mile’s gleeful emotions from the light-hearted tousling. 

“Ihihi alreheheady hahave a supervillahahain messing wihihiith me!”

“Yeah, and I’m the most merciful one you’ll ever get.”

Miles gave a particularly endearing squeal when Hobie’s fingers found that awful little spot just below his shoulder blades. “THIHIhihis ihihis mercehehehey?!” He gasped incredulously, wrenching away from Hobie on instinct and almost tumbling off the couch.

Hobie’s hands lunged out and scooped Miles back against his chest, releasing a quick, relieved breath for his spider sense. “Yeah,” Hobie snickered, “a real supervillain would’ve let you fall.”

Grateful for the break, Miles breathed in deeply, releasing it in a fast exhale as he leaned back heavily against Hobie. “Good,” he answered after a moment, “it would’ve got me an escape route so I could get you back.”

Hobie snickered, tipping his head to the side to catch Miles’s tired, half-lidded stare - noting the spark and warmth was back in those caramel brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re up for any revenge tonight, big man,” he grinned. 

Miles would’ve flipped Hobie off, but damnit he was tired and he didn’t want to provoke another round of tickling. Hobie seemed to have caught on that Miles was fading a bit, and gently shifted the boy off his lap so he could lie down on the couch fully. Hobie dragged one of the many quilted blankets off of the couch and draped it over Miles, smirking when the younger Spiderman fisted the blanket and tugged it up to his chin. 

“So, feeling better then?” Hobie asked, sitting on the coffee table as Miles got comfortable. 

Miles paused in his movements to glare at him flatly. “After you bullied and tortured me for fifteen minutes?”

Hobie snickered. “It was barely ten, you diva,” he argued lightly. 

Miles pouted slightly but nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I feel better. I know my parents are just looking out for me, I think I just need to ask them to be a little less.. Well..”

“Helicopter-ory about it?”

“That doesn’t sound like a word.”

“Okay, and what are you? The word police?”

Miles grinned into the quilt, amused to no end by how Hobie always seemed ready to jump on anything that sounded close to something he’d support or attack in the name of his brand. “If there was a word police, you would’ve broken it down by now.”

“Damn right, I would’ve.”

A hand planted itself in Miles’s hair, gently messing with the bouncy curls. “And hey, if that conversation doesn’t go over well, this dimension is always welcome to you. You’ve got the watch, pop in whenever you need an escape or just wanna see me.”

Miles covered his softened heart with a flat look. “So you can tickle me to oblivion again?”

“Only if you deserve it,” Hobie gave a wink and took his hand from Miles’s curls. “Besides, you seemed like you needed that laugh too.”

Miles’s mouth disappeared under the blanket as he grumbled to himself, muffling the denial undoubtedly rambling out. That was okay, Hobie knew he was right. He stood from the couch, stretching his arms high above his head to get the crick out of his back. 

“Also, you can crash here for the night mate, you’re half asleep already.”

“No, ‘m not.”

“Sure, spiderling,” Hobie tweaked Miles’s toes in passing the couch, relishing in the high-pitched squeak and flinch he got. “I’m not gonna make you go home when you’re wiped out like this, Gwen has slept on that exact couch and said it’s comfy. Telling ya that cause you ain’t stealing my bed.”

He heard Miles hum drowsily as he turned off the mismatched lamps in his living room, bathing the space in a gentle glow of the city lights outside - cosy and unobtrusive. “I don’t think I could move if I want’d to.”

“Good, stay there and knock out.”

The soft chuckle he got made him smile. Hobie carefully stepped over the AMP cords strewn about the living space and headed for the closest door. “Goodnight, Miles,” he called softly.

“Mnrgh, g’night…”

Hobie went to leave and then paused. With a grin, he turned his head to say, “You’re helping me cook breakfast tomorrow by the way.”

Miles laughed again, sleepy and warm. “I know how to burn water and explode eggs.”

“Excellent, be unique, and destroy social constructs. Who says you gotta be normal when cooking eggs?”

Miles snorted. “Go to bed, Hobie.”

Hobie smiled and knocked twice on the doorframe. “Night little spiderling.” He said, stepping through to his room, leaving a content and peaceful Miles Morales to snooze on his couch.

[nach0]

MCYT Yuri Week; Day One - Dance/ Break

"Are you taking notes on our date?"

Wordcount: 1504

AO3 Link

It’s not often Pearl and Gem get the chance to relax and take some time away from things. It should have been nice, and by all accounts would’ve been, if only Gem could stop stressing for five minutes.

(Featuring art at the end!)

Gemini Tay, Grand Wizard of the Crystal Cliffs, was proud to say she was good at social interaction. It’d be disappointing if she wasn’t, after all the time she’d put into studying the cultures of each and every important person she’d ever have a chance of interacting with.

It was like a test. A constant, neverending test that she had to pass or else she’d start a war.

But she definitely wasn’t on edge at all! Large formal events totally didn’t make her nervous in any way! In fact, one on one interactions should probably be a breeze in comparison.

Courting wasn’t something she’d ever bothered to study. The Crystal Cliffs historically hadn’t held any close alliances for more than trade, the previous Grand Wizards emotionally detached by design. She’d thought herself the same, even after the Wither Rose Alliance was formed. It was the most involved the Cliffs had been in hundreds of years. Still, romance was something she hadn’t considered. It involved too much trust, too much vulnerability, for her to ever picture herself wanting.

That lack of foresight left her cramming every book on romance she could get her hands on five minutes before her very first real date with Pearl.

Apparently they’d been on ‘dates’ before, quiet moments stolen away in the midst of the chaos that was their lives. Pearl had mentioned a stargazing date fondly, leaving Gem thoroughly confused. It had been entirely spontaneous, she hadn’t even dressed up or planned anything, and it didn’t line up with anything she’d learned about how dating worked.

Not for the first time she wished there were more books on Helianthian culture. Maybe it would help her understand the distinction between ‘date’, ‘hanging out’, and just ‘chilling.’ She still wasn’t sure if they were all separate things yet. Maybe she could ask? But then it would reveal how little of her girlfriend’s kingdom she knew, then Pearl would get offended and break up with her, then leave the alliance, then the Cliffs, Mythland, and the Grimlands would all be without food and everyone would starve.

She was spiralling again. It was thoroughly unproductive.

None of her books were helping anyway. They were all about formal courtships, something Pearl had laughed about with her before-

“Now I get the intent,” she’d said, giggling slightly as she put the sunflowers into a vase. “But he would have had to buy these from my empire to gift them back to me.”

“Traditionally, it’s considered a sign of respect to give things of the courtee’s empire. It shows an interest in the culture they come from, and a willingness to compromise and combine their own culture in the process.”

Pearl rolled her eyes with a smile and Gem quickly closed her mouth, a long honed instinct from accidentally finding herself on the edges of people’s patience, but she got the odd impression that Pearl wasn’t annoyed at her.

“All this courting stuff has its place, but it’s not for me. If I find someone I want to go out with, it’d be nicer if it was natural. And if I don’t… no big deal. I’m happy with what I have. Besides, I know my type.”

Gem’s heart quickly found its place in her throat, thumping so loud she was surprised Pearl couldn’t hear it. “Can I ask what that type is?”

“I can say for sure it’s not-” Pearl squinted at the note, “-Brad from Mythland. Sorry buddy, better luck next time.”

They both laughed, and the matter was dropped.

-or wild, whirlwind romantic fantasies that moved so fast she had to put them down before uncomfortable bile rose in her throat. The thought of jumping into anything without preparation, but especially something as deep and personal as romance, made her nervous. She could handle spontaneity, liked it at times!  But there needed to be trust there first, a baseline to deviate from. Would Pearl try to move too fast for her? Would she say anything against it even if she did? There was no script for her to work from here, no guide to where normal boundaries lay. She was going in blind for the first time in a very long while.

Then a knock at the door signalled her preparation time was up.

“Gem?” Pearl called through the wood, amusement already creeping through her tone. “Did you lose track of time again?”

“No, I’m ready!”

She ran a hand down her shirt to clear all but a few methodical wrinkles, enough to seem casual without looking sloppy, and nodded once in satisfaction. The heavy wooden door opened for her with ease (and she definitely didn’t use magic to make herself seem more impressive.)

“Wow, you look… really nice.” Was Gem imagining the blush on Pearl’s cheeks? She had to be, especially as her voice quickly picked back up into fond teasing. “I didn’t know you even owned any casual outfits.”

The outfit could be considered casual. If one didn’t know the quite frankly overkill amount of thought Gem had put into it. Muted colours to give off a softer feel, an inversion of her regular layers as a symbol she wasn’t acting as a ruler but instead herself. Amethyst around her neck and hanging from her ears both for power in case of an emergency and a reminder of her empire’s resources. Her gloves were, admittedly, mostly just because she wanted an excuse to wear them. But to anyone that asked she could easily pass it off as a combination of the two of them, the stars and moons pattern conveniently fitting. She liked her regular gloves, the leather preventing any distracting textures, but it was nice to make a change every once in a while. 

“I’m full of surprises.” Gem smiled, looking Pearl up and down. She could analyse what it meant later, when they had a quiet moment, but for now they had places to be. “You look pretty as well.”

“Don’t I always?” She flipped her hair, tied up neatly in a braid that made Gem’s breath skip, turning her nose up for a moment before the act broke down into laughter. “Come on, I know you have a schedule for this. Lead the way.”

~

In Gem’s opinion, the date was going pretty well. She’d hit all her talking points and had genuine discussion, Pearl had laughed at her jokes, and she’d learned much more than she’d expected. They were taking a break while their horses drank from a nearby stream, Pearl leaning against a tree and Gem leaning on Pearl. 

It was nice. It was peaceful. It was very abruptly interrupted by the scratching of Gem’s pencil that was so much louder than she’d anticipated.

Pearl cracked an eye open and glanced down at her. “Gem?”

“Mhm?”

“Darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Person I adore more than anything in the world?”

“...Yes?”

“Are you taking notes on our date?”

Gem blushed, ears pressing against her head in embarrassment. She should have been more subtle, or just tried to remember everything she needed to know, even if it meant she’d have less energy to spend on concentrating on what was actually happening, she should-

Pearl pressed a kiss to her head, carefully avoiding her antlers.

“It’s cute, fawn.”

“I just want to get it right,” she muttered, picking at the fabric of her gloves. “I haven’t done this before, before or after becoming Grand Wizard. It’s all complicated and there’s no rules to fall back on if I get lost.”

Pearl hummed gently and unfurled a wing, wrapping it around Gem at her silent nod.

“We just came out of a war with a demon. No one expects you, or any of us, to readjust instantly. If you wanna put this on pause, catch your bearings a bit, I’ll get it. Just tell me, yeah? Don’t get trapped in that head of yours.”

She moved to tap her forehead but pulled back at the last second, humming gently instead. Her gaze didn’t hold any expectations, just a gentle patience and a warmth like the sun.

And oh, Gem remembered why she fell for Pearl in the first place.

“I don’t want to stop. It’s just… a lot. Sometimes. Not that it’s your fault!” She hurried to add. “Rules are just easier to work with, knowing the limits and expectations.”

There was no judgement. The world didn’t collapse, no one mocked her admission of weakness, and Pearl didn’t immediately rescind all of Helianthia’s resources.

It was… a little disorientating, if Gem was being honest.

“That’s ok. We can figure out what works together. I don’t mind if you write your notes or want to set guidelines, so long as it’s not hurting you. Don’t sacrifice what you want for me or anyone else.”

She pulled her ever slightly closer, and the wing around Gem’s shoulders was more comforting than any weighted blanket she owned.

“For today though, let’s just enjoy this break from the chaos. We’ve earned it.”

For once, Gem couldn’t agree more.

(if my laptop messes the colours of this up i'm going to explode btw ^^)

also i know i had a taglist but it's been like a year since i last used it so idk if anyone still wants to be tagged, i'm down for starting it up again though

@mcyt-yuri-week

[bloodymarymorstan]

I want to talk about how much the 15th Doctor has been crying. I understand that 15 is more emotionally open than the previous incarnations of the character, but I worry that it's getting to the point of losing impact. The Doctor used to cry so infrequently that whenever they occasionally did I would always find myself getting choked up as well, because the rarity of it made it all the more significant and evocative. I also feel like the Doctor's emotional detachment made the character seem more alien - I'm thinking about all the scenes where something completely horrific is happening and the Doctor is just standing there seemingly unaffected, which is very chilling to watch. Now, I'm pretty sure 15 has cried in every in every episode he's appeared in so far, and I'm concerned that it will be difficult for the story to emotionally build when the emotions have already been so high. Even just in Boom, I wish that they had at least saved the tears for when Ruby got shot, because the moment didn't feel as poignant when the Doctor had already cried several other times that episode.

[hajimeshoe]

HEAR ME OUT!! Leona, Jamil, Floyd, Kalim, and Duece with an s/o who has crippling anxiety, depression, and ADD but is the therapist friend.

They don't seem like it most of the time because they're emotionally detached, but still an empath.

Everytime there's an overblot, they sip Arizona tea like "Same shit, different day." And treat it like common shit because back in their world, their whole family was mentally ill, along with the friends around them who put their lives in s/o's hands.

Often seen dealing with other people's emotions and giving advice they don't even follow themselves. It's good advice too!!

S/o listens and sleeps to loud music at high volumes very often, (almost every second of the day and night) and eats and sleeps a lot to destress.

The resting bitch face is constant. They seem so annoyed by life, and they are. They just don't tell anyone that.

Low self-esteem but they talk about themselves highly to try and get rid of or hide it. More self loathing than not though.

They have many moments where they don't wanna listen to people but they end up listening to people anyway.

S/o also sucks ass at self care, but tells everyone to self care.

Ooh, Therapist Friend MC who needs therapy themself...sounds interesting. Now, I feel for anybody who goes through this - it is not a healthy place to be at all. Try to focus on yourself at least a little!

Therapist Friend!S/O Who Needs Therapy

Deuce

Deuce is the one you're normally giving therapy to

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

Like, out of all the others, he's the most likely to open up to his S/O even before you two start dating

But the second he finally figures out the toll it's taking on your mental health?

He has Ace, Trey, and Grim on your ass to ensure you're taking care of yourself (Goodluck to you, Trey is the Original Therapist Friend and the single mom of Heartslabyul)

I feel like he also listens to music at high volumes

So he has no issue with you sleeping with it on

100% will do his best to take care of you if you won't do it yourself

He's also the type to VIOLENTLY try to bring up your self-esteem

Punches of love <3

(Does not even give a damn if you punch back because he loves you)

Leona

Emotionally detached and annoyed by life, meet your soulmate

Leona does rant about his family occasionally

Mostly after coming back from breaks where he had to deal with them

Otherwise, he's mostly chill after his overblot

Wait, you need loud music to sleep? Too damn bad, listen to it when you're asleep and I'm awake

Honestly, you two never sleep at the same time anymore - one of you will sleep while the other is awake now. It works though! You can listen to music loud enough to burst your eardrums through headphones while Leona sleeps in silence, or you can sleep with your music blaring while Leona is awake and playing with your hair

You two still get to cuddle nearly constantly!

He's still a prince, so if you need therapy then damn right he's getting it for you, even if he needs to drag you to it

Lion Strength TM activated

Also, if you show even the smallest sign of Low Self-Esteem, he is becoming the Therapist and shutting down any argument you have. You're a bitch? It's called having a personality, hun. Body issues? Nobody is perfect, everyone has insecurities and he loves you just the way you are

Now, if you do not want to listen to someone but Leona finds them talking your ear off anyway?

Hopefully you can stop a Lion in a warpath because Leona will be out for some damn blood

If you're eating a lot? No worries. "Ruggie! Bring Y/n their favourite!"

Floyd

Needs Therapy 2.0

Like, with his mood swings? You're just a live-in therapist at this point

Jade is actually the one to point out to him the toll it's taking on you

After that, he'll be a little more attentive and conscious of your emotions and tells

He'll let you sit in the Mostro lounge to eat, or he'll show up at your dorm at midnight with chicken nuggets

And god forbid you talk bad about yourself...good way to put him in a bad mood and he will verbally tear into you

Then you two don't talk until he's back in a good mood and is abducting you from your "Therapist Duties" to have some fun

Jamil

Certified Caregiver

Like, he's dealing with Kalim's bullshit and is overprotective on a good day

So yes, he uses you as a free therapy service some days

But he still adores you

If you aren't taking care of yourself? Too bad, Jamil will hypnotize you to make you commit self-care actions

No, not sewerslide that is not self-care

He is watching you like a hawk now when you're around him and Kalim

You better be eating, have showered, brushed your teeth and hair if it's long

Also, WATER!!! He will make you hydrate no matter how stubborn you try to be

Kalim

Kalim is...well, he's a dunce

He couldn't pick up on Jamil's mental health after years of living with him, he is not picking up on yours until you're nearly at the breaking point

He just thinks it's nice that you let your friends vent to you even when you aren't social

It takes Jamil sitting him down and running through a list of your issues that it get's through to Kalim that you need help

And Kalim? He's never been one to hold back

You get the best Therapist and he is hovering over you

Even if it makes you feel worse, he is coddling you because you deserve everything in his opinion

It'll honestly take a lot to get Kalim to stop trying to care for you. He absolutely adores you and wants the best for you.

[wendytestabrat]

why kyle likes cartman more than stan

i feel like the episodes “raisins” and the YGO/ass burgers two parter RLLY highlighted the difference between stan & kyle as characters. stan is wayyy more pessimistic and cynical than kyle is so this is why stan can get depressed easily and mope around and just throw a huge pity party when he’s sad. like yeah kyle is sensitive AF too and also wears his heart on his sleeve but i feel like kyle copes with his problems more through anger and just lashing out and then he moves on and gets over it after he’s let it all out in the open LOL. kyle doesn’t like sitting with his feelings and having to confront his emotions & shit which is why we don’t ever see kyle sitting around and just crying abt something like stan easily does aside from that time he was crying over that pic of cartman in “skank hunt”. even tho kyle is rlly pissy he’s overall more of a glass half-full person than stan is and tries to be more optimistic & idealistic abt shit (and he acts more like a normal kid too) but we see how in both YGO/ass burgers and raisins how kyle got flat out annoyed with stan for just being depressed & sad abt shit and he was super quick to try to cheer stan up and get him out of that state bc he didn’t like being around that negativity. which was annoying AF how kyle was like forcing his toxic positivity onto stan instead of just letting him feel what he needs to feel smh. but it rlly goes to show how easily uncomfortable kyle can get around other people’s feelings & vulnerabilities. i think this also has to do with his gemini ass bc air signs are rlly detached and get uncomfortable with emotions easily, but geminis ESPECIALLY are the types to just ignore emotions and shit and then try to distract themselves and keep themselves busy by having fun with a bunch of shit to avoid that stuff LOL. so yeah kyle vibes with cartman more bc of this bc cartman is A LOT more similar to kyle in that way than stan. cartman is a total sociopath and he doesn’t like having to get emotionally vulnerable either. cartman also likes to avoid confronting his feelings by doing a bunch of reckless crazy shit, so that’s why kyle was so quick to dump stan as a friend and then replace him with cartman bc kyle views cartman as someone more positive to be around bc of this. even tho cartman is super toxic and negative too but cartman isn’t a moper like stan and he’s more similar to kyle in that he just deals with shit by getting pissed and letting it all out in the open rather than drowning in depression. and i think that’s overall a huge aspect of the kyman dynamic and why it works better than style and why kyle is more intrigued by cartman bc cartman is someone more motivated and energetic like kyle and he’s someone kyle can have fun with that keeps him stimulated and brings excitement into his life. and cartman is a VERY fun, charismatic, positive, & resilient person who doesn’t let challenges weigh him down easily. wheras stan on the other hand is more chill and laid back and can be boring af and yeah kyle doesn’t wanna be around someone who’s just gonna depress him or bore the shit out of him. that’s honestly why kyle is quick to be there for cartman when he’s sad but not stan LOL bc when it happens with cartman it’s more rare to see & surprises kyle wheras with stan it’s like he does this shit everyday so kyle gets sick of that.

[kanehara-chillveil]

Riki and Kotoko

IMPORTANT: MOD IS MOVING THIS ACCOUNT, REFER TO @kanehara-chillveil2 TO ROLEPLAY WITH THESE TWO.

There's trouble in our life

But sometimes we have to fight

Full name: Kanehara Riki (兼原・リキ)

Age: 18

Birthday: December 31 Afilliation: Port Mafia

Ability:

CHILL KILL -

Description:

"Chill Kill" allows Riki to maintain an eerie calm and heightened focus in high-stress, life-threatening situations. When the ability is activated, Riki's heart rate slows, his senses sharpen, and his movements become incredibly precise and efficient. This calm state enables him to react quickly and accurately, making him nearly untouchable in combat.��

Effects:

-Enhanced Reflexes and Perception:Riki can perceive the world in slow motion, giving him a significant advantage in dodging attacks and countering his opponents.

- Emotion Suppression: He becomes emotionally detached, allowing him to carry out dangerous or morally ambiguous actions without hesitation.

- Lethal Precision: Any attack Riki performs while "Chill Kill" is active is executed with deadly accuracy, making him a formidable opponent even against those with more powerful abilities.

Drawback:

Overuse of "Chill Kill" can lead to a temporary emotional numbness that lingers even after the ability is deactivated. This detachment could make it difficult for Riki to connect with others or feel empathy, potentially straining relationships and his mental well-being. Additionally, prolonged use could result in physical exhaustion, as the heightened focus and precision take a toll on his body.

“Going through a lot,

but we still stand strong

The sound of your voice still leads me along”

Full Name: Kanehara Kotoko(兼原 コトコ) Afilliation: The Armed Detective Agency

Age: 17

Birthday: January 1 Health Condition: COPD caused by the house she and her siblings lived having a lot of cigar smoke and other things.

Important Fact(s): Due to her condition, Kotoko tends to be in the hospital more then Fuma’s place (she and Riki live there with him and he pays for any hospital bills)

Ability:

Veil of Aether

Description:

"Veil of Aether" allows Kotoko to generate and manipulate a mysterious, ethereal smoke that can serve multiple purposes, making it a versatile support ability for teammates.

Effects:

- Shrouding Mist: Kotoko can create thick, impenetrable smoke that obscures vision, making it difficult for enemies to see or target her. This mist can be controlled to either expand and cover a wide area or concentrate around specific targets.

- Intangible Passage: The smoke has an intangible quality, allowing Kotoko and her allies to temporarily phase through solid objects while enveloped in the smoke, enabling quick escapes or surprise attacks.

- Enhancement Aura: When the smoke surrounds an ally, it enhances their abilities. For a "Chill Kill" user like Riki, it further sharpens his focus and extends the duration of their heightened senses. For a vampire ability user, it amplifies his regenerative capabilities and grants him greater control over his vampiric powers.

Drawback:

While "Veil of Aether" is powerful, it requires precise control, and overuse can lead to Kotoko losing her grip on the smoke, causing it to dissipate prematurely or even turn against her. Additionally, creating too much smoke can obscure the vision of allies as well, potentially causing confusion or accidental friendly fire. Kotoko also becomes more vulnerable then she already is when maintaining large volumes of smoke, as it divides their concentration.

EXTRA:

To interact with a specific sibling just put either a 🎧 emoji for Kotoko or a 🦌 emoji for Riki! posts by one of the twins will be in pink for Kotoko and blue for Riki or their names and emoji in the tags.

BACKSTORY

Riki Oneshot no. 1

EXTRA: Me after splitting up the siblings and putting Kotoko in the ADA with NæVis as her caretaker and Riki as a member of the PM so that he can do stuff like get money to pay for Kotoko’s treatments and such because he hates the feeling of having to be financially dependent on Fuma

mod is @onionhaseyo-ji

[jjsanguine]

Don't try to emotionally manipulate with music me Last Twilight, I know what's up. How the hell did we get here??

The ending seems almost completely detached from everything that was happening till episode 11. Till the breakup if I want to be generous. Here's some disorganised thoughts.

Why was the timeskip so long?? 3 years of not speaking to each other is not chicken change. Speaking of, why didn't they speak to each other? This isn't legend of Korra, they have Line. We hear all about what Day was up to but there's one shot of Mhok working in a kitchen and otherwise not kpim. Why. Mhok took than job to build his career and I feel like leaving with no notice no nothing probably torpedoed his reputation. Was that job important or nah?

I don't care about Day + Nights dad. If we were going to bring a side character back for 2 seconds at the wedding it should have been Gee because apart from Aon she's Day's closest friend. Or was before she just vanished off the face of the earth as much as August who literally isn't in the country.

I would have liked to see any of Night + Phojai's relationship onscreen. There wasn't enough going on in this episode (even thought it was bare long :/) to not touch on *anything* that happened between phoomjai being born and them getting married. How did Ramon react? I don't think Khun "I can excuse classism" would be chill.

Why the ever living FUCK did Day fully regain his vision. I would have been down if some serious side effect like night blindness or astigmatism or the many problems resulting from having to take anti rejection medication and becoming immunocompromised was brought up but nope. Day struggled a bit for a few years and and got his eyes switched back on easy peasy.

Day being sighted again makes how Ramon was like "I'll stop being abusive (regardless of if or to what extent she meant well) once you stop being disabled" something that will never be grappled with. I doubted they were gonna after episode 11 but still, it was nicer than being certain.

Day broke up with Mhok because he thought Mhok pitied him for being blind. Mhok (and also Mhok's backstory) said it was because of Rung, and I thought this was going to be a segue into Day realising that it wasn't all self confidence and roses chez Mhok but apparently I was completely wrong

Day didn't have to really deep that Mhok has stuff going on because Mhok ACTUALLY has nothing going on. It was just pity. Somehow.

I do not understand why this point causes all the problems in episode 11 and was not mentioned at all in the finale. I don't understand why the solution to this supposed pity was to make day sighted again instead of addressing that.

The thought process send to have been that if Mhok doesn't trust anyone to care for Day and Day doesn't think he needs caring for, by restoring Day's vision they can both be right. It's like when gender screwy dramas sidestep the male lead thinking too hard about his orientation after taking for who he thinks it's a guy by being like, he somehow sensed that it was a girl all along and crucially before he kissed them. Nah. NAH FAM. I didn't forget.

Day + Mhok going back up that mountain at their sighted leisure makes hollow the struggle to reach the top first time round. The view wasn't as nice because it was rainbow bereft just like any of Mhok's actions in this episode (Rung's name means rainbow in English). It's like their relationship in a nutshell. Rung and the ripple effects her death have on Mhok's decision making have no place, no acknowledgement, no nothing.

If I rewatch this Mhok + Days story is going to end on the mountain, first time round, because everything after that was setting up the character assassination arc.

[icedragonlizard]

Headcanons for Parallel Susie

I talk about Susie a lot on my blog. She's one of my favorites, after all.

And now I'll talk about my interpretation of her parallel counterpart:

In my headcanons, Parallel Susie has a very similar backstory to regular Susie's: being split from her dad and banished to Another Dimension for a long time, only to then have her dad forget about her existence by the time she manages to finally return to him because a broken machine ended up eroding the memories that he had of her.

And just like regular Susie, Parasusie was also massively hurt by her dad forgetting about her... but she then handled it very differently.

Regular Susie could be considered rather vengeful in what she did about her dad forgetting about her: the action of her stealing Star Dream's helmet was an attempt to humiliate him. But she didn't mean to kill him... that was a huge mistake, instead she was merely trying to force him to look her way. She just wanted his previous self back.

Parasusie, on the other hand, was much more aggressively vengeful. She was so hurt by her dad forgetting about her, she felt like she was spat in the face (regular Susie did, too, but it's notably worse in this case) and decided that she'd just kill him in revenge for 'having the gall' to neglect her, believing that 'bad fathers' like him deserve such a fate. Parasusie killed her father by ambushing him and trampling him to death with her mech. Wow.... just wow. That's extremely brutal, isn't it?

Just gonna say right now that Parasusie is much more brutal than regular Susie.

Regular Susie misses her dad. That she killed him was a complete accident, and she's felt terrible about unintentionally causing his death. In contrast, Parasusie actually killed her dad on purpose and doesn't regret it. She doesn't miss him. She believed that he deserved it for 'abandoning' her and it actually made her feel relieved.

And by the way, Parasusie also used to have a hair clip, as it was also gifted to her by her dad before they were forcibly split apart. But she's long since gotten rid of it. She outright destroyed that hair clip, actually. She completely emotionally detached herself from her dad to the point she unapologetically obliterates anything in his memory.

She happily moves on from her dad and pretends he never existed.

Like with the regular Haltmanns, the parallel Haltmanns also ran a corporation that was very similar to it. Parasusie reluctantly joined her dad's company because she thought it'd make a good opportunity for her to sneak up and kill him. And when the company fell apart after she killed him, she doesn't even bother trying to bring it back. The reason why regular Susie revives the HWC is to honor her dad, and she's operating on the company's originally intended goal of consensually helping people.

Parallel Susie is not the CEO of a technological company like regular Susie is. She doesn't even run a job at all. Instead, she's just chilling around in numerous dimensions, although she loves to build gadgets and be very unhinged with them. Just a weird edgy nomad woman.

By comparison, she's much more of a 'lowlife' than regular Susie.

Her home is in a technological hidey-hole in the Clash dimension.

Parasusie is notably meaner, more crass and more brutal than regular Susie. While regular Susie is also certainly not the nicest person around either, some of her friends have gotten her to gradually soften up over time. She and Kirby are friends. Parasusie, however, most likely wouldn't be interested in being friends with Kirby if they met.

Although Parasusie isn't entirely friendless. She has a total of two friends: Dark Taranza and Shadow Dedede. She met Dark Taranza when he came around in her dimension, and they both came together due to mutual respect of both being utterly insufferable lunatics. Darta invited Parasusie to visit the mirror world occasionally, and that's how she first met Shadow Dedede and become friends.

Wow... I headcanon Parallel Susie and Dark Taranza friendship? Hahaha! Just like how I headcanon the regular versions of Susie and Taranza being buddies. Although it's different here. I headcanon that Parasusie and Darta literally make each other worse, unlike their regular versions which help make each other happier and better.

Her two friends are the reason why her mech has a D-Mind symbol.

The mirror world is a place that Parasusie gives regular visits to. She's not a natural mirror worlder, but she's grown to have something of an affiliation with them. She's met Dark Meta Knight, but they don't get along very well. Although DMK prefers Parasusie over actual Susie LOL. Parasusie has also met Shadow Kirby, and although they very rarely interact, Skirby is very wary of her because of her friendships with both Darta and Shadow Dedede, as he doesn't like those guys.

Parasusie has very different food preferences from regular Susie. Regular Susie is well known for loving ice cream. She's a sweet-tooth. Parasusie instead loves spicy foods, as she enjoys putting hot peppers onto meals, something that regular Susie wouldn't really like.

They also have differences in what they like. Regular Susie absolutely adores cute things; she loves plushies and other kawaii stuff, and she gave the HWC a pink makeover upon reviving it. Parasusie on the other hand does not care about cute things as much. She's far more into goth and edgy stuff. She's basically like a much edgier Susie.

She's also way edgier and more brutal in her sense of humor. They have different tastes of humor that aren't compatible with each other.

Overall, Susie wouldn't get along with her parallel counterpart if they were to meet. It'd probably already freak out her out to meet another version of herself to begin with, but she'd be especially unnerved to meet a version of herself that intentionally committed patricide without any remorse. It would elicit a visceral reaction out of her.

Parasusie would make Susie uncomfortable and even somewhat angry by virtue of just existing. She'd find Parasusie to be repulsive.

On the other hand, Parasusie would probably consider Susie to be pathetic. And if she noticed that Susie still misses her dad and that she keeps things in his memory, Parasusie would probably taunt her by calling her a "daddy's girl", and if she learned about Susie's backstory and how she dealt with being neglected, Parasusie would call her a coward for still caring about a 'dad that was clearly a traitor'.

Most likely, Susie and Parasusie would cat-fight if they met.

Susie's more humorous friends, Magolor and the mage sisters, would find it hilarious to watch Susie beefing with another version of herself.

Anyways... I think that more or less sums up the essences of my headcanons for Susie's edgy red-haired parallel counterpart.

I like to think that Parasusie is less redeemable and is a worse person than regular Susie. But even then, it's not all bad for Parasusie either, as I would not consider her to be irredeemably evil either (that's actually incredibly rare in my Kirbyverse and is just mostly applicable for non-defective Dark Matter). I think I'd just put Parasusie on the same boat as the likes of Dark Taranza and Shadow Dedede, where they're all overall bad people that are worse than their regular counterparts, but not much further than that. Just weird freaks.

But yeah, I think that's it. See y'all more for later posts.

[libbee]

Is it just my observation or not everyone is destined for a fulfilling romantic life?

As much as we are conditioned by media, literature, songs, our own anima/animus to desire being in romantic relationships, unfortunately I have observed that not everyone is meant for one. It is truly luck that some people meet willing partners who are interested in romantic relationship, working things out, making it work, loving and supporting each other. While some people meet partners who are emotionally unavailable, manipulative, liars, unwilling to work relationship, taking partner for granted.

Mercury is indeed an indicator of a friend like, youthful energy, optimism for life, conversationalist partner. This is the partner who wants to be adventurous, go travel the world, watch latest movies, go outdoors eating.

Venus is indeed an indicator of significantly beautiful, sensual, pleasant to have in life, charming partner. This is the partner who likes to purchase new clothing, food, wine, dine, meeting pleasures of senses. Music, food, comfort, beauty, sex.

Saturn is indeed an indicator of serious, hard working, not fun attitude towards life and kinda pessimistic. This is the partner who has seen fated ups and downs in life, believes in long term planning, avoids short term gratification and does not have fun with his money. Life is a responsibility for him.

Ketu is indeed an indicator of a detached, disconnected, peculiar, unique, wandering, lost in thoughts, spiritual, not interested in material life partner. This is the partner who will fulfill superficial social expectations of relationship but remain emotionally distanced, disengaged, less talkative, not romantic.

Rahu is indeed an indicator of a social climber, high status, clout chasing, power chasing, fame chasing partner. This partner creates a persona or image or illusion of a perfect relationship for the world to see. It does not matter to him if the actual relationship is hollow so long as the social image is that of a picture perfect marriage.

Sun is indeed an indicator of authoritarian, fatherly, dominating, controlling, egoistic, daddy type partner. This is the partner who likes to take decisions in relationship, be the sun of the relationship, adds life to relationship and is actively involved in the relationship.

Mars is indeed an indicator of a hyper, short tempered, energetic, controlling partner. This is the partner who hates monotonous, chill life. This partner wants sports, physical activity, passion, aggression, heat in the relationship.

Jupiter is indeed an indicator of a wisdom seeking, teacher like, studious, not romantic, dharmic marriage, dutiful partner who considers relationship to be a duty that he has to perform dutifully.

Moon is indeed an indicator of an emotionally attuned, emotionally invested, sensitive, feelings driven partner. Doesn't mean that this partner is super romantic but has the potential because of feelings driven personality. This is the partner who will poetry, do acts of service, is emotionally available to partner.

See how different planets, their signs, their placements, conjunctions, aspects will bring different partner in your life? If you expect to find a romantic, sexy, passionate partner but your relationship houses are occupied/aspected by Saturn or Ketu or Jupiter or their signs that is Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces, then you are bound for disappointment. You have to mold your expectations to meet your destiny. If your 7th house is occupied by Ketu or aspected by Ketu, you have to expect and accept that your emotional and romantic needs will be unfulfilled - conversely you have to channel this desire into spirituality and self work. Ketu rules scorpio sign and 8th house. But Ketu is not a planet, though it can change the chemistry of your relationship.

So this is how, not everyone is meant for picture perfect romantic relationship. What we see in movies or songs is simply a work of art. I used to get very frustrated thinking why my life was not like the movies, until I realized that my birth chart, my expectations and my reality are very different from what I consume in media or literature or stories.

I hope it makes to someone. I hope I am not the only person who set her romantic expectations based on what I saw in media.

[hwnglx]

Can you a reading on taehyung possessive towards his partner

temp, 5ofp+9ofc, knofsw&devil

wow.. i thought, oh it's actually okay? and boom the knight of swords and devil flew in my face.

for taehyung, it all depends on your behavior. in general, he is not the most possessive lover. he's a capricorn stellium, his venus is in aquarius. he's very much a person who's logical, relatively patient, chill and pretty emotionally detached in love. he's usually a calm boyfriend who does like to have his freedom, and won't like you sticking to him at all times. he'll give you your freedom and space for sure.

but, his aries moon can quickly get ahold of taehyung once someone triggers a negative emotion in him. since aries' can have a tendency to be pretty egocentric sometimes, if something somehow bruises his ego and he feels offended, he can quickly turn into an extremely possessive boyfriend. like, he'll be possessive enough to say "yes she's mine, back off." to some person that somehow threatened his self-respect.

to me, taehyung is one of the idols with the strongest duality out there. most of his chart is so calm with all the cap energy and then the aries moon just sitting right there makes him even scarier imo lmao.. since at first glance, he just doesn't seem like the typical, explosive aries.

[morroodle]

Every time I escape the Mechanic Morro brainrot he comes back and punches me in the face.

Mechanic morro finally gets his own mech(s)! It took me forever to figure out what they should be cause dragon is already taken but @butterpony100 gave me the idea of dragonflies and its fucking perfect. I'm still working out names but I have so many ideas for these bad boys.

The big mech

It dosent get used much since morro isn't an actual ninja but he likes having his own anyways

It has so many guns

The tail segments are each missiles

The eye hexagons are also tiny missiles

There are so many hidden guns in the body. At least 80% of the surface area is hiding guns

The feet are claw things similar to the claws on his spider backpack, they can grab onto stuff and perch very well

They also shoot out like grapling guns because morro is extra as fuck

The head splits open (into 4 segments because 2 is for losers) and out comes the middle sized dragonfly! Speaking of...

The hoverboard

The middle sized one is a hoverboard

Its morro's favorite and gets used alot, even for non ninja things because hoverboards are cool dammit

Not as many features (guns) as the big one

The feet are the same claws but no grapling gun, makes easy storage cause he can just mount it on the wall

The eyes store guns (morro would never ride something with less than 3 guns)

The tail segments are not in fact guns! They each detach and turn into different tools that he can use for quick repairs and on the go projects

It has an autopilot and is able to come to Morro on its own. Think he's just chilling and then suddenly needs it so he presses a button or something and it activates and flies straight to him. Very useful.

It's very fast and precise, great for moving in tight spaces

He has funky lil shoes that stick to the hoverboard somehow so he dosent fall off and can do sick tricks (skaterboy morro?

Clips onto morros back for transport but cannot be used as wings

The drones

The littlest ones are multipurpose and there are three of them

They have cameras and guns (because morro) and can be used for security but thats not their main function

They mostly serve as little helpers for morro, like extra arms/flying shelves

Tails are either a tool or storage for nuts n bolts n stuff

Sadly they don't Russian nesting doll sit inside the hoverboard but they can absolutely be stored and deployed by the big mech

Theyre so cute I'm emotionally attached to them

That's all I have for now. Man I love these dragonfly dudes. Anyway butter you are officially un-banned from giving me drawing ideas (for now)