#I still use they/them pronouns online though

[screamsofanoutlawbrain]

I can describe my gender as being the way it is because I was built a girl, and I had to learn slowly over time that the changes to myself I have made have nothing to do with my gender or sex, but I feel like I got something a bit funky going on inside and I feel a bit like I'm not fully girl but not anything else. I identify as demi girl, and I am a demi girl in the way that a cupcake is a muffin but a muffin is not a cupcake.

Aka if being a girl was like our solar system, then I'm pluto. Technically I'm not supposed to be in there, but nobody wants nor cares to push me outta the party.

[st-dionysus]

(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.

I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.

I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.

I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.

T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.

I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.

I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.

I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.

I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.

I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.

No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.

I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.

I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.

I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.

I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.

My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.

It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?

A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.

I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.

I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.

Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.

I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.

I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.

Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.

Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?

Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I puke and miss the toilet.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

==

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

[artificial-transmutations]

Going Green

"Microtransactions!"

Charles looked around the board members.

"Micro. Transactions. Have you ever heard of that? Anyone?"

Slowly, heads nodded.

"Oh, good! So, you *have* heard of them. Does anyone care to explain to me then why our games barely have any? In fact, I have yet to see *any* microtransaction revenue from our latest release."

"But Sir, 'Orcs and Morcs' is a single player game - and not for a mobile platform, too. It doesn't even have an online connection. It would be highly unusual."

Charles M. Anderson cut the engineer up with a gesture. He didn't even know the other man's name, which wasn't too unusual. Even though he was the CEO of GreenGames for six months now, he didn't bother to learn his subordinates names until they proved useful. And this unnamed engineer could be happy if he still had a job after this meeting.

"I don't care about your techno-babble. Microtransactions is where the money is, so I want them in our products. *All* our products. And make sure to make them mandatory for any progress, too."

Charles usually talked about "Releases" and "Products". To him, video games were just a product like any other. Of course *he* didn't play any of those silly games, games were for children and losers. He only cared for the numbers, the graphs and revenues.

"What about the backlash? I mean, I understand that you want to generate more revenue, but GreenGames is known for providing high quality games that *don't* try to rip their customers off."

"So?"

"So, this could be bad publicity for us. Really bad."

Charles looked around the table and noticed most of the other board members nodding.

"Listen up, everyone. I think there is some misunderstanding here. You think that I care about our customers. I really don't, as long as they continue to buy our products. There is no such thing as bad publicity. So, I don't tell you how to draw your silly ogres and you don't try to meddle in the business aspect of the company, okay?"

Even though the inflection suggested a question, it was perfectly clear that it was neither a question nor a request. Again, heads nodded and tried to avoid eye contact. Good. Respect was very important for a leader.

One woman spoke up. Charles suspected her to be some lead writer or something.

"It's orcs, Sir."

Charles blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"You said ogres, but our games are about orcs. That is our thing, we make games about orcs."

"There is no difference between orcs, ogres, unicorns and all that whimsy stuff. Leave me alone with your fantasy crap."

"But there is another thing. You are responsible for the story of our products?"

The woman agreed with a careful: "Yes, Sir?"

Charles looked her straight in the eye. "It has come to my attention that there are certain woke elements in our products. As a story writer, I expect you to take care of that."

"What... do you mean by woke? And by taking care of that?"

Charles sighed. Why was everyone so incompetent?

"Apparently, there is same-sex smut in our products, some even have pronouns. That crap needs to disappear asap. It is 'go woke go broke', after all."

The writer woman looked at Charles incredulously. "But Sir! Same-Sex romances are a well-accepted part of the industry for *decades* now. And it's not like the player has to engage in that, too. It's just an option - an option we actually received much praise for in the past. And about the pronouns... It's just a setting that influences some dialogues on how the player character is referred to. Again, it is perfectly possible to play as a straight green cis male if that's what you want to do."

Charles shook his head, his voice now dangerously low. "One more word of that, miss, and you can start looking for a new job. 84% of our customer base is male, and male customers want to see boobs, that's a fact. I won't tolerate wasting company resources on pacifying some noisy minority and alienating our main audience."

"But sir!" the writer woman objected.

Charles' look silenced her.

"One more word and you're out. We'll find another writer. Someone who does the job and keeps their mouth shut. This meeting is over. I expect results end of next week."

Nobody dared to speak up when everybody left the meeting room, and Charles returned to his office. What a productive meeting.

Just as he turned to his computer to check today's KPIs, he noticed a new email.

From: Employee Council

To: Charles M. Anderson

Subject: Going Green

Body:

Dear Mr. Anderson,

we here at GreenGames would like to take the opportunity to point out some concerns about your leadership role.

We have noticed a disturbing development since your takeover and would like to remind you of the values we stand for at GreenGames. We like creating games, and we identify with the work we do. Our players are important to us, and we strife to be open and accessible for everyone. Just like the protagonists in our games, we have honor and use our strengths to better the world. You in particular should be the living embodiment of this ideal. Please take this chance to re-think your methods and decisions and "go green" for real.

Sincerely,

The Employee Council.

Charles was outraged. How dared those subordinates criticizing him? He reached for his phone, ready to phone his secretary to find out who this "Employee Council" was but was interrupted by a ripping sound.

The right arm of his expensive suit jacket had ripped at the shoulder, which was unusual. He would have to have a stern talk with the tailor. Charles stood up and took off his jacket - or at least, he tried to. It was like the piece of clothing was way too small all of a sudden. He finally managed to get out of it, but only with several more rips in the fabric. Charles loosened his tie. He was sweating like mad, and when he looked down on himself, he was in utter disarray. His shirt looked like it was several numbers too small and as he was watching, one button after the other flew off with an audible "pling", exposing his torso underneath.

But was it really his torso? Not only was it *bigger*, it also looked way *hairier*. Charles had never been a man with much body hair, but now, he looked down on a stomach that was showing visible abs covered with a dense treasure trail of dark hairs. They continued upwards where they met with a true forest of curly dark hair that covered the slabs of pecs that were still growing as Charles watched.

He had to loosen his tie again before taking it off entirely. All of his clothes felt constricting, so, he peeled himself out of his shirt, too. His expensive watch was interrupting his growth painfully, but Charles was too occupied to notice, let alone care. With a dull cracking noise, the leather strap broke, and the watch flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall.

As Charles continued to grow, the chair underneath him creaked, but, again, he had other things to worry about. His lower body was still covered by his dress pants and shoes, but that was getting tight, too. His shoes especially were getting painful, and it was a relief when the front broke, exposing large muscular feet and toes. His pants were filled to the brim with heavy, muscled legs now, but there was another region where the capacity had been reached. His groin formed an obscene bulge. That alone would have probably fit - barely - but it was accompanied by an unusual feeling. Charles didn't *mind* his extreme change. In fact, the hyper masculine body turned him on, even. He watched as a dick print became clearly visible outlined against his groin, as his cock grew hard. It pulsed, once, and Charles felt a spurt of precum soak into his boxer shorts. A wet patch became apparent as the liquid seeped through his pants - all from a single spurt. His dick pulsed again, and Charles' head began to swim. The air in the room was thick with sweat and testosterone by now, and Charles groaned from arousal. Man, what would he give for a nice firm manly ass right now, giving him a lap dance.

Wait, what? Manly ass?

But it was true! Every time, Charles tried to think about sexy girls, but all that came to mind were men. Burly, hairy men, twinkish shaved men, green-skinned ogre-man. No, not ogres, he corrected himself. Orcs.

As he thought this word, his dick pulsed again and made Charles almost cry out from arousal. He couldn't restrain himself anymore. He *ripped* apart his dress pants and lowered his boxer shorts that looked like a pair of briefs on his massive body now, releasing a gigantic stiff rod and a matching set of heavy balls - along with a whole cloud of manly, musky smell that made Charles even hornier than before.

He closed his gigantic hand around his shaft and moved it up and down, in a slow, barely constrained motion. He had almost come by that one stroke, so horny was his mind. Fascinatedly, he watched as his cock and balls took on a deep, green color. It looked almost like a cucumber, or the penis of the incredible hulk. Or... an orc. As he moved his strong hand up and down again, the green started to spread in all directions.

Yes! There was no doubt: He was becoming a big, strong, sexy orc! Charles let all restraints fall away and started pumping in earnest now. With each stroke, the green spread, until his entire torso was of a rich green color. His head felt a pressure as his facial structure reformed, and his ears grew long and pointy. His hair lost darkened and grew out into a wild mohawk-like hairstyle. At the same time, a black beard sprouted around his entire jaw, underlining his masculinity.

Meanwhile, the green had swept across his arms and legs, quickly eliminating any leftover pink spots. The green color looked incredibly hot under the coat of dense, manly hair, and Charles felt himself getting closer. He grunted with each stroke like an animal and where his muscular green body touched the furniture or his executive chair, it left a film of manly sweat. Finally, he felt a short bit of pain on his ears and nipples, as small metal piercings appeared there: Short studs in his ears and small rings in his nipples.

That sent him over the edge. With a final bellow, he came, mightily. His large green balls contracted and his massive cock spew cum everywhere: All over his stomach, his chest, his furniture, even his face!

Charr panted in the afterglow of his orgasm. He was the epitome of virility and although he had just cummed all over his office, his mind kept creeping back to sexy guys again. He would be able to go again, soon - but that had to wait a bit. He used the remains of his suit to clean up a bit (although it was still clearly visible and smellable what happened here), stuffed his mighty tool into the cum-stained underwear and reached for the phone.

"Please send the board to my office, I want to issue an honorable apology, and announce our new strategy." He rumbled with his new, low voice. After a moment of consideration, he added: "And please send someone to install our games on my PC."

He rubbed his hands. This would usher in a whole new era for GreenGames - with the greenest possible CEO.

I have the feeling that a lot of companies could benefit greatly from a bit of a greener leadership!

[toast-on-dandelioms]

I could like to ask for a request it ok you don’t do it!

So I was thinking about Yandere Batfamily x MaleGojo reader like a reference from Gojo of JJK the same figure and the same goofy personality and charming personality like he was not their family or blood relative or anything they just fell really hard for M! Gojo reader for his personality and eyes like they even kidnapped him and they all fell for him since M! Gojo is between his 19-20s and he like dumb he just let it happen cause he like attention and he got a lot of ego so he just like “Meh I get free stuff and gifts and like in a mansion for free” even thought M! Gojo is really rich he just goofy. 

Ok so, I am incredibly sorry it took me so long to write this, I never had the right idea until now but I hope you like it!

Dividers made by @thecutestgrotto and by @cafekitsune

Also I wrote this when I mostly didn't sleep so, whatever weird thing reader is thinking it's totally my fault but I am not apologizing for it.

The pronouns for the reader will be he/they, so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Wc: 6k

Fyi (my own warnings for yall): reader is an egomaniac, Bruce flirts with yall, inappropriate thinking from yall, I decided the ages please don't take them seriously, the ages are only used for this ask only,

Ages:

Bruce: 45 - Dick: 27 - Jason: 23 - Tim: 20 - Stephanie: 20 - Cass: 22–23 - Damian: 15/16 - Duke: 19

age of reader: 20

Tw: big age gap, Bruce Wayne, romantic yanderes (except Damian, he's a minor in this story), drugging and spiking food, mention of unwanted touch, inappropriate thinking, mention of death, mention of grooming and sex trafficking, MINORS PLEASE DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS ONE BECAUSE SOME THEMES MIGHT BE BAD,

You were a model. A symbol of beauty that people paid money to use to promote their products. People adored you thanks to your eyes, a blue so intense that even the rarest sapphire looked like a common one compared to your eyes. Well, it was thanks to your eyes that you were a model, they seemed to attract people. You were proud of your eyes and your face, you knew they were the reason why you were famous and you made sure to never ruin it. You were proud of being a male model. At least, that's what you felt before you went to Gotham.

You were in the car with your agent, Katelyn, who was still talking about things you weren't allowed to do in Gotham, which made you incredibly bored since that's what she all talked about ever since you accepted the job and was told to go to Gotham with Katelyn.

One thing that stuck to you from her annoying nagging, especially since she wouldn't stop talking, was that you weren't allowed to be near the billionaire Bruce Wayne, even though he was the one who hired you to be the star for his new products At least, that's what you remembered since you tuned out Katelyn's voice after 20 minutes of her talking.

You weren't sure why you weren't allowed near the billionaire but you didn't really care, from the photos you searched online of him you didn't see anything interesting so you decided that he wasn't worth your time. The only reason you chose to do this was the pay.

When you finally arrived at the hotel you immediately demanded a cocktail while waiting for Katelyn to check the two of you in the hotel.

As you waited near the bar in the hotel, you saw a few individuals who were trying to subtly stare at you, to which you didn't care since you were used to people staring. But, as you also looked at them with no shame whatsoever, you noticed that they were all wearing or using a Wayne product.

The oldest individual in the group was a man with pitch black hair and who was sitting on one of the many sofas in the lobby. For a few seconds, you could've mistaken him for the younger version of Bruce Wayne when he was, maybe, 25 or 26 years old. His wrist was decorated with a chunky watch that had seen increased sales after Bruce Wayne promoted it, which was probably how the man had heard of it. If you were to guess, the watch was probably one of the limited edition that not many people bought since only 10 were released of the special line. You knew that because you cried when you found out the watch was sold out and you weren't able to buy it.

The second oldest, another black haired man, who was leaning on a wall near the first man, with a weird white streak in his hair but was built like a soldier, especially with how muscular his arms were even though he was wearing a jacket, probably a leather one but you weren't sure since he was a bit far away. 

You did know it was a Wayne jacket because you just saw that same leather jacket and design on the magazine you were reading on the plane while ignoring Katelyn and told her to order one since you wanted it.

Another man was next to the watch guy, which you almost didn't see until he suddenly appeared to try and grab a cup of coffee out of the watch guy’s hands. 

You did see he was using a laptop, which made you a bit confused since you could see a W and also a D, but from some bits of Katelyn's lecture about Gotham’s rich people that you were listening to, you don't remember anything about the Wayne and Drake’s companies merging or a collaboration. 

As you continued to stare at them while sipping on the cocktail you finally received, you noticed a kid, maybe a teen but you didn't really care, who was talking on the phone the entire time with an angry scowl on his face that made you wonder what angered such a young person. 

Strangely enough, you did know who the kid/teen was. He was Damian Wayne, also nicknamed ‘Wayne’s poodle’ after you heard of his obsession with animals and how many he has in his Manor. 

You gave him a quick glance, a bit surprised that he was the one openly staring at you before smiling at him, trying not to laugh when he looked away with a visible blush on his face. 

After seeing Damian Wayne in the lobby, you were quick to assume that the other three men you looked at before were the other children of Bruce Wayne. 

You set the cocktail on the bar and walked away to Katelyn, glad she was done and grabbed the key to your room before walking off, not caring about them being at your hotel. 

You took the elevator to your room and came face to face with a blonde girl and an black haired asian. You politely smiled at them and stepped to the side so they could exit the elevator before entering it, quickly pressing the button to close it since you could feel the black haired girl stare on you the whole time. 

While waiting in the elevator, you did wonder who all the people in the lobby were before shrugging and going back to playing on your phone, not caring about them anymore since they weren't important. 

As you waited for the elevator to arrive at your floor, you suddenly felt it stop a few floors before yours, and when you looked up you saw an African American kid staring at you, his mouth slightly open. 

You looked at him and chuckled softly at how surprised he was at seeing you, finding him cute since he kept stealing glances at you the whole time you were in the elevator. 

You smiled when he glanced at you once again and finally said. 

"Y'know if you were just going to stare, a picture will last longer dearest." You giggled, smiling softly as his skin went a dark shade of red.

"I- I wasn't staring-!" He stammered, the slight quiver in his voice giving him away.

"Mhm, so the wall behind me was just soooo interesting you had to keep looking right?" You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as you crossed your arms.

The boy stared blankly at you for a solid few seconds. "....yes." He replied in a completely serious voice, which prompted a flurry of laughter from yourself. 

You walked out the elevator when it finally reached your floor and winked at him when he looked at you, continuing to walk to your hotel room and finally changing, after entering the room, after hours of being on an airplane with Katelyn.

After adjusting to Gotham’s nightlife and also enjoying the city without any rogue attack, you finally walked in the WE building to do the photoshoot about whatever product you needed to advertise. 

Did you care about the product? No but you just wanted to be paid so you didn't care. 

As you walked inside the building with Katelyn next to you, needing her to know where to go and also to give the makeup crew a list of the makeup products that you were allergic to and a bag with substitutes if they didn't have any in hand. 

You entered the elevator, completely ignoring Katelyn and her instructions and just waited to arrive on the floor where the photoshoot or whatever you needed to do was, playing a stupid game on your phone while waiting. 

When you finally reached the floor, you followed Katelyn without saying anything, a small smirk on your face as you saw many people looking your way and staring. 

You entered the photoshoot and ignored the other model, already annoyed since she wasn't as good as you but you could manage since your beauty was enough to make this session perfect. 

As you entered your makeup station you completely disregarded the fact that the Bruce Wayne was standing near the station, not caring if he was staring since you knew why he was staring. I mean, who could blame you? 

You were perfect and a symbol of beauty that so many people wanted for their own pleasure. 

During the photoshoot you could hear people talking about the poses and what to edit in between photos, making you annoyed since you wanted everything to be perfect and your co-model was getting reprimanded most of the time. 

You also noticed how Bruce kept staring at you the whole time you were in the photoshoot, making you wonder if he was interested in you before shrugging and going back to sippin on some water since you were on break after your co-model Mercy Jacques, yes he wants people to use both names, kept messing up and even destroyed a prop. 

Time passed slowly while your annoyance kept growing before you finally gave up when Mercy Jacques accidentally dropped a heavy prop on your leg while doing a weird pose, making you incredibly angry when he didn't even apologize. 

You got up and wanted to punch the man, not caring if it would create a scandal. No one could treat you like an inferior model when you were one of the best in the whole country. 

As you prepared to punch him, someone suddenly grabbed your arm and held you from behind, completely stopping you from even trying to hit Mercy Jacques, making you even more angry. 

"Calm down sweetheart, anger isn't a good look on you," a voice whispered against your ear, the person's gentle breathing making a shiver run down your spine. 

You picked up the sound of movement and felt the hands clutching your waist loosen as the person came to stand by your side. 

It was Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 

"Mercy Jacques, I'm afraid we can no longer work with you. Please see yourself out." He said simply, the taught smile on his face was much too sinister for your liking.

You pulled away from his arms after Mercy Jacques was escorted out the room before looking at Bruce, a small smirk on your face before quickly acting like a damsel in distress from the prop that fell on your leg, a bruise was already forming which helped your act. 

Were you doing this to get pity and also to make sure Mercy Jacques’s reputation would be in shambles? Also yes, you already knew Katelyn was making sure he would never find a job in Gotham. 

She was good at ruining people's lives, that's why you kept her around even though her voice was incredibly annoying. 

As you faked being incredibly hurt, you used Bruce’s closeness to lean onto him, secretly using the opportunity to feel the chest of the man and being a bit surprised at how muscular the man actually was. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn't see how dark Bruce’s eyes got when you leaned on him and acted all hurt, 

You pulled away when you heard Katelyn call for you and noticed her close to Bruce so you pulled away from him, a bit reluctant since you were still touching his chest and body with no shame whatsoever. 

You turned to her and just made a motion with your hand to make her cut the session so you could go back to the hotel and relax in a nice bath and turned around to go to the makeup station so they could clean your face. 

You barely managed to take even a step before you suddenly felt Bruce’s hand wrapping around and grabbing your wrist, which made you think of another body part he could wrap his hands around. 

You looked at him with a half surprised half whatever dirty thing you could think about his hands before realizing he was talking and you completely ignored what he was saying to focus on his hands and how good they must feel on your body. 

When you finally clocked in to listen to what he was saying, you just heard the last part. 

“So, what do you think sweetheart?” he said, his voice was a deep baritone, the type of sound that would have anyone on their knees within seconds of meeting this man, which, in all honesty you would do everything if he called you that in that same voice. 

Unfortunately, you couldn't just admit that you weren't listening to the richest man you knew, the man who hired you as his model so you just put on your best fake smile. 

“That sounds amazing Bruce, can I call you Bruce?” you asked, a bit confused and almost panicked when the man stared at you in silence. 

You almost cried when he finally laughed because you were scared as fuck that you somehow offended him by calling him by his first name and he was gonna kill you. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7 at your hotel” was the last thing he said to you before walking off after patting your shoulder, making you almost kneel down since god damn his voice and smile was too much. 

You waited until he was far away before immediately turning to Katelyn, who you knew was near and probably heard everything. 

You quickly walked up to the poor innocent woman and grabbed her from her shoulders, your eyes staring right into her soul and seeing her deepest and darkest secrets before asking in a desperate tone “what the fuck did I just agree to?” 

To which the woman sighed, already knowing you got distracted by the man and how hot he was in your eyes before finally telling you what you agreed to do. “You just agreed to go to dinner with Bruce Wayne, the man I told you to not interact with because of the type of scandals he might cause you if the two of you are seen together.” her voice sounded so annoyed but also resigned at the fact that you never listen to her.

You stayed silent when she started her usual rant about you needing to be more careful and knowing when to listen before noticing you were just looking into whatever was in front of you with a dreamy look on your face. 

“OI Romeo! Stop day-dreaming and go get the makeup off! Your date is in 2 hours and I know you will go no matter what so at least let me pick the suit” 

You immediately nodded and hugged her, kissing her on the forehead before running off to the makeup station in heels, making Katelyn wonder how you could do that since she couldn't even walk with normal heels.

It was almost 7 pm and you were finally finishing putting on some makeup, making sure your suit was the right colors so it could make you look gorgeous for this date. 

Did you care that he was probably gonna use you as a one night stand? No, you were gonna use him to have a pleasurable night and also to make your friends back home jealous. 

When it was finally 7 you quickly went to the lobby of the hotel, stopping when you noticed the same people in the lobby when you first arrived, who were all staring directly at you. (Except Damian) 

It almost felt like you were standing nude before the people in the hotel, my body bare for their piercing gazes to lay upon. I've always felt absolutely secure in my body and looks, you knew you were hot and felt pride in knowing that. But their unwavering eyes still made you feel insecure, like they were scrutinizing every tiny detail about your appearance, making you feel like you were being criticized by your parents when you weren't the best at a photoshoot. 

You shivered and quickly pulled your eyes away from them, trying your best to simply ignore the gazes that you could feel still stabbing into my back.

You smiled in relief when you saw Bruce arrive in a Lamborghini and you hurriedly ran outside, continuing to feel their gaze on your back as you reached the car at the same time Bruce was walking out of it. 

You smiled at the older man and thanked him when he opened the door for you, sneakily glancing back to the hotel and seeing all those people staring at both you and Bruce. 

You swiftly sat in the car and looked inside, amazed at how amazing the car was and didn't notice how Bruce looked back at the lobby of the hotel and smirked before walking around the car and driving off with you. 

In the car you didn't say much and just looked at the road, sometimes stealing glances at Bruce and admiring his body in his suit, especially how his pants were perfect since they were tight enough to show his bulge. 

God you so wanted to see him without those pants. You wanted to see all his body without his suit, wanting to feel how strong he actually was and if the rumors that you heard from other models about him being a god in bed were true. 

You finally stopped imagining Bruce naked when he pulled up at one of the fanciest restaurants in Gotham where it's impossible to get a reservation there. Katelyn tried and you watched her cry when she failed, a smile on your face as you watched her tears ruin her makeup, enjoying her pain. 

You got out of the car and gracefully grabbed Bruce’s hand, especially since you were wearing very high heels that made Katelyn make a weird face at how narrow the heel was but you didn't care. 

The heels made the outfit perfect and also helped you be at the same height as Bruce, you refused to let that man have the upper hand with his height if you change it.

You walked inside the restaurant while holding onto Bruce’s arm, the classic fake smile on your face for any photographers who were near the restaurant and for the staff, even winking at the waiter who led you two to a secluded table.

You thanked the older man, who didn't look a day over 30, when he slightly pulled the chair out to help you sit down before pushing it near the table. 

You were a bit surprised he got a reservation at this restaurant before scolding yourself mentally because he's a billionaire, he probably threw some money and got a reservation. You were now wondering who lost their reservation tonight to make space for Bruce Wayne. 

As you sat down you smiled at the older man, knowing that he invited you here to flaunt his new catch and how he only wanted you because you were pretty and young. 

Did you care? No, you were used to it and you were gonna use everything you had to go to bed with him and get paid for your silence afterwards. That's what always happened when a rich person was attracted to you and by now you started to use it for your own gain. 

You were used to rich and powerful people being attracted and using their wealth to have you for a while, they only wanted a pretty thing and not you. You just knew that if you slept with them then you would get more modeling contracts and more publicity.

(TALK OF GR*PE AND OTHER BAD STUFF, SKIP IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT)

You think you were 11 when it started. 

The exact date was hazy in your mind, you just knew that after spending an hour or two with a photographer, alone, that your parents told you was famous for not giving any models a break during photo shoots, was now giving you special treatment and kept touching you in weird places during the photoshoot. 

You can still remember the agonizing pain in your arms from struggling against the man’s grip on your wrists to keep you still, the strain in your throat as you kept begging, pleading and downright crying while asking him to stop and to let you go back to your parents; you can still smell his horrible breath on your face when he told you to shut up before kissing you. 

You were 12 when it developed into a weekly occurrence.

You could remember everything even though you wished you couldn't, you could still feel that man’s touch and hearing his laughter as your body was being used for his own pleasure against your own will. 

12 years old and being forced into acts even adults would feel ill at the idea of. At the time you were rising in fame thanks to a few small roles in some shows and movies and alongside your modeling gigs that kept pouring in. 

You were 14 when you told your parents for the first time. 

You remembered the confusion and feeling ashamed when you told them about what happened, not understanding why they just told you that you did a good job and that doing that meant that the producer liked you and was going to give you more opportunities to make the world see your beauty. 

You never understood why they didn't help you. Why your mother just looked at you with no emotion in her eyes as you cried when you told her what that man did before telling you to stop crying and that you had a photoshoot with that same man in two hours.

You could still feel the pats on your back that your father gave you when he saw how many modeling gigs you had been offered by that man and just told you to keep it up. 

You were 15 when you began to give up on finding any help. 

You slowly stopped telling your parents and just let the photographers, stylists and directors do what they wanted when you realized that your parents didn't care about you and just cared about the money you were making for them.

You were 16 when you stopped believing in finding help altogether.

You stopped trying to understand and just gave in the pressure that everyone kept putting on you. You created a mask from the pieces of your broken self and just kept going.

You stopped fighting, you stopped pleading for them to stop and just used their greed and lust for you as a way to advance in life. You knew it was wrong but you didn't care, no one ever taught you or told you what was right and what was wrong.

You were 17 when you learnt how to pretend you liked it.

You convinced both yourself and others that it was okay, the way you'd been treated for your adolescence. If you had no problem with it and tricked yourself into believing it was what you wanted, it wasn't wrong. 

And it worked. 

You pretended to enjoy it. You pretended to adore the fame and money you got from what you did. You pretended to smile happily at your parents as they told you there was another meeting you had with the director later that day. You pretended to look forward to those meetings. 

You pretended so much you forgot how not to. Your personality, likes, interests, everything about you was completely fake. But the world is easily swayed by fakeness if it's decorated with rhinestones and glittery gowns.

Like a mannequin in a boutique window, beautifully dressed in high-end clothing, with jewelry adorning the delicate neck of the faceless creature. Thousands of eyes gaze upon the mannequin, almost as if they're awaiting its demise.

(no more talk about gr*ape for now, will inform if there's another)

As the night progressed you noticed how Bruce never made any comments about your body or what you could do for him, making you a bit frustrated since you knew he was attracted to you. 

You saw how he looked at you, you felt his eyes linger down when you walked beside him. You weren't oblivious of it. You knew what he wanted but you hated how he kept asking you questions about your life and hobbies. 

Why was he actually so interested in you?! He’s just another old man wanting to flaunt to his rich friends that he fucked a model so why is he doing all this?! 

You kept drinking wine and starting to act drunk, thinking that maybe he was one of those old men that would use you when you were intoxicated and then manipulate you into thinking that you also wanted it. 

Plus, no one knows it thanks to your influence in the media, but you weren't a lightweight. You trained yourself to act drunk after two glasses of wine so that people would never know that you were an easy person. 

After the waiter brought the check and left you were fuming and got too tired to act like you were interested in him after a whole dinner with him not insinuating anything that you should do for him. 

You got up, the chair screeching as it suddenly moved, and glared at him, too angry to keep acting like your stupid ass self that is too focused on their fame and ego to care about others. 

“...how many mind games are you going to play” - you pointed a finger right to his face, your voice shaky from frustration and anger -“huh? How many TİLL YOU SLEEP WİTH ME?! I know what you want! Everyone I ever met that wanted to go to dinner with me always wanted the same thing! Answer me!! And don't you dare waste my time!”

You kept glaring at him before feeling a tiny prick on your neck and before you could look you started to feel drowsy, like when your parents used to give you a glass of water that tasted weird when you were younger.

You pointed a finger at him before mumbling out a “you sick fucker, you could've told me you wanted to do it with me sleeping” and then collapsing on the floor, your fall being stopped by Bruce. 

Bruce: he has always been interested in you after he saw you at your first big runway after you turned 18 and was finally free of your parents control. 

He saw you walking on the big stage, your hair all messy in the wildest haircut possible that he guessed you did, complete with a wild outfit and the wildest makeup he ever saw. 

He forgot what the theme of the show was because he only remembered you and how, even while wearing rags and looking like you just went through the most heartbreaking breakup, you looked like the most beautiful man he ever saw in his life. 

After that day he just kept going to whatever event you were also in and enjoyed watching you from afar, he even had a full room in the Manor ready for you after he heard you talk about the perfect bedroom to relax but also have stuff to do so you could still be productive. 

Next to that same room there was the room filled with almost every photo, magazine clips and whatever he could find about you plastered on the walls. 

He slowly became more obsessed with each day that passed that he wasn't with you, his love for you growing into an unhealthy obsession that he actually sent people to spy and take care of you in your company while also finding out everything about your past as a child model. 

He did ruin the lives of every director, photographer and almost every person in the modeling industry who used you in a sexual manner after he did some digging since he needed to know everything about you, wanting to be the perfect husband for you when he will finally marry you. 

Even though he never talked to you and was double your age, he didn't care. He wanted you. 

(Everyone’s obsession for you starts when you turn 18, if you got confused sorry)

Richard/Dick: he was the first one who got influenced by Bruce’s obsession with you after just 3 months since he was living at the Manor during that time because there was a case that he couldn't crack and was using the batcomputer to find some more clues. 

He accidentally walked in on Bruce admiring one of the many runways that the older man registered and just watched from the doorway as the TV played in the background, staring at how beautiful you looked while walking, staring directly into the camera and in Dick’s soul. 

After that day he started to research on his own and eventually stumbled into Bruce’s obsession room about you and didn't feel disgusted or weirded out when he saw all the photos and magazines photos about you and didn’t feel connected to Bruce when he realised that he and the old man shared an obsession. 

No, he felt jealous at how it was Bruce that first found you and not him. Bruce had the privilege of having you for himself before he found you and he hated that. 

But he also managed to one up Bruce by being the first of the two to get a photo with you after disguising himself as a waiter during a gala, especially because he knew the man flew to the city where the gala was held just to see you, even if you were with an old guy who looked like he could be your grandfather. 

Did he rub it in Bruce’s face right after, especially when he knew the man was there and especially when he knew that the man still didn't approach you because he didn't know every single thing about you? Yes, yes he did and he did it with pride since he managed to one up Bruce. 

He also killed the man before going back to Gotham with his old man,making sure that old bastard suffered through every moment and felt everything, especially when Dick started to slowly break his fingers, making sure he broke them so much that the man would never be able to use them even after surgery and therapy. 

Plus he wouldn’t need to use them given that Dick killed him at the end by strangling him as he insulted him, making sure the man could see his face filled with joy as he was strangling him.

Jason: he found out about this when he was at the Manor with Tim and Duke since the three were working on the same case given that Duke found some thugs using weird alien technology while robbing a bank that unfortunately got destroyed during the fight. 

Tim got involved because he saw a gang fight that were using similar weapons thanks to Duke’s descriptions and to Barbara given the fact that she provided video evidence that perfectly showed the weapons during the fight. Unfortunately, Tim couldn’t retrieve the weapons because the gangsters spread out during the chase but he managed to capture a few for questioning where he found out that the next shipment of those weapons was gonna happen in a few nights in some part of Crime Alley, to which he asked Jason for help. 

That day the three were at the Manor to see if they could find more information via the remnants of the weapons Duke brought from the first fight and were witnesses of Dick taunting Bruce with the photo while wearing a shirt with the photo of him and you right in the middle of it. 

Thanks to it and the fact that Bruce looked so angry and and on the bring of punching Dick in the face that the three got to work on finding out what was happening and immediately falling in love with you during their research. (They also stopped the thugs)

Jason, at first, was surprised at how long you’ve been working in the modelling industry before starting to dig about your past and when he found out about what your parents and what all those directors and photographers did to you he was enraged since he knew what it felt like having adults you trusted use you. 

He quickly went to Bruce and just told him that he wouldn't be available for a few days before leaving and after he came back the news started to talk about all those people missing and some who were found dead with a letter written with all their crimes, alongside a usb filled with video evidence of their crimes that immediately got uploaded to the internet after an hour of getting found thanks to Tim. 

He did hurt your parents and almost killed them but spared them, unsure if you actually hated them so he just made sure they would be stuck in the hospital for a long while. 

Tim: (you already know how Tim and Duke know about you so I'll skip it). 

Tim was surprised when he found out about you because of how obsessed Dick and Bruce were about you. But he also did his own research where he then shared it with Duke since the guy was also curious about you and he couldn't hide it from him. 

As he studied you and your past, like everyone else, he found himself more interested in how you stayed so strong after everything that happened. 

He also helped Jason in his revenge week and made sure all the evidence about those people wouldn't get deleted by hackers or the modelling industry. 

He didn't understand why he felt so close to you but after a bit of research and also with Duke continuing to point out how similar you and Tim were he started to understand. 

You were a trophy kid for your parents. Your parents had you and mostly used you as a way to make themselves look better when you became incredibly famous as a child model. 

They didn't care about you and they only gave you actual attention when they needed to show how good of a parent they were for the public. 

And that's what he experienced with his own parents and he knew what it felt like. But the only difference between the two of you is that Tim was neglected but didn't get used for money since he was a billionaire child while you got used to your parent’s greed. 

Duke: (you know, I know, we all know) 

He was one of the most sceptical to fall in love with you because he didn't feel an immediate connection with you like it happened with Dick, Bruce, Tim and Jason. 

Even after knowing about what happened to you he still didn't feel anything and he felt wrong because he saw everyone getting obsessed with you while he just thought you were attractive but didn't feel like the others. 

After a year he finally met you thanks to a gala he went to with Bruce without the others since they already ‘met’ you by being creeps. 

That gala was the start of his obsession with you. 

You were ethereal and wearing one of the most beautiful white suits that he ever saw, he actually thought you were an angel at first as you slowly walked down the stairs in 4 inch heels thanks to Barbara’s telling him via comms. 

After a bit of him watching you from away he finally mustered enough courage to walk up to you and ask for your autograph and you were so nice to him. 

Like you didn't ignore him or act annoyed, you actually talked with him as you signed what he wanted and joked a bit about some runways you did that he loved. 

And after that day he was hooked, he couldn't get enough of you that he actually beg Bruce, on his knees, to send him to any gala if you were gonna be there, even though you didn't really go to many galas unless it was something that made you interested, which was difficult to understand and use for their own gain. 

But he made sure to brag about it since he had video footage thanks to Barbara. 

_______________________________

I am done and I won't do the others because I don't want to sound repetitive for y'all. Please don't ask about the others though.

[dukecollinsbf]

gulp... darlin hcs... this is kinda long... i use he/they pronouns here. hes a cis dude in my eyes i just type they out of instinct.

hes called julius

mexican-asian! (their dad is mexican, their mom is cambodian. they were born in mexico but moved to washington when their dad got a better job opportunity.)

his dad has a teardrop tattoo and one of those "cut here" tattoos on his neck. he's also blind in one eye

their mom is beautiful but #evil. she always had her nails painted dark red

julius' favourite colour is dark red

he got 4 siblings!! hes the middle.

their older sister was the typical 2000s teen girl. ik yall are envisioning the hairstyle im talking about. she also brags about how she loved leopard print before it got popular.

also shes a kesha lover. now she listens to chappell roan. she IS casual.

as an adult, their younger brother works with animals! their older sister has an online job and their older brother is a mechanic. their younger sister is in college and julius hates her bf. the one sided beef is crazy. theyve never even met in person.

he did boxing as a teen and his little sister used to do dance

ik more of the fandom wants them to have happy childhood BUT NOT ME!!!!!!1

BOOM UR PARENTS SUCK!!

their dad sold their wii for drug money (am i projecting)

their mom is worst than their dad muahahahahah

they had a saint bernard called Pooch growing up and a yappy little chihuahua that his mom loved. that dog also refused to die. like im talking this dog got attacked by a bigger dog and had a tumor and got hit by a car and survived. by the time the dog died it had a leg missing and was blind. the vet bills were crazy

even tho their parents were shitty, they could never bring themselves to hate them even though they wanted to. when either of them would pass out on the couch, he'd cover them with a blanket and clean the living room and kitchen. when his mom would be upset, he'd sit and listen to her even tho she never did the same to him

he doesnt talk to his parents now and he makes jokes about what he went thru to cope, but he wonders if they're doing okay, if they got healed and became better people or if they passed away and they never knew.

the bond they had with their unempowered friend was the same bond asher, david and milo have. his friend was called trevor.

julius was trevors first kiss because trevor complained about feeling like a loser since everyone started dating around their teen years LMFAO

their first concert was a metallica one that they went to with quinn

they worked as a waiter for a while as a teenager and had a work bestie that was like 40

guyliner...........

I STOLE THIS HC FROM A FIC IVE READ IF YOU FIND IT PLZ LMK SO I CAN CREDIT!! but they worked in a fighting ring at one point

my own add on to the same hc: during this time, they had a shitty little apartment and the most decorated space was a dresser dedicated to their fish, soda pop. that fish was spoiled as fuck and he cried when soda pop died

he frequented a diner to the point the lady behind the counter knew his order beat for beat

when they were teenagers, asher took inspo from their style. they used to wear those little black wrist bands with the little spikes (do yall know what im talking about) and thats where ashers love for his spiked collar came from

they do not have a single pair of blank socks. they all have some sort of stupid design on them

also ofc, the rubber duck, courtesy of domini.

they hate haircuts

they HATE the grocery store. they get overstimulated and wanna die immediately.

best meal theyve ever made for themselves is mac and cheese. from those little boxes.

aggro bit them one time and theyre still upset over it

TATTED AS FAWK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and they have piercings GODDDD THEYRE SO FINE

they also have sharp canines (im bouta bust)

i know yall want asher to have heterochromia but i hc julius has it. HOWEVER! I hc asher has anisocoria (one pupil bigger than the other). they bond over having eye conditions

they also fell out of a tree in the middle of the woods one time and cracked their head open and broke their leg and had to limp home

the first ever scar he got was on his chin when he and his brother were pushing each other around (as brothers do) and julius fell and cut his chin open. its very faded now, but his brother brings it up somtimes

one time, out of boredome, he ran away from his brother at the store

his little sister would hide between clothes in the store and would need to be called for on the intercom

i have more. theyre my fav listener. all my hcs go to them.

[froggibus]

Hi! I was wondering if I can request venture dating a sugar mommy? It can just be dating hc’s 😋 (maybe throw in some nsfw ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sugar Mommy - Venture

Pairing: Sloan Cameron x fem! reader (reader uses fem pronouns + has a pussy---non NSFW part can be read as gn ^~^)

Genre: fluff headcanons, NSFW below the cut (MDNI)

CW: sugar mommy, established relationship, reader is RICH rich here, can be read as AMAB! Venture or AFAB! (w the strap), oral (f! receiving), begging, thigh riding, mention of sex toys, switch! Venture, praise, face sitting, overstim, i make one (1) bad joke

hey hi i definitely went a little overboard with the nsfw here but it was just such a fun thing to write! still (slowly) working through my requests & some summer content. in the spirit of that: what's your favorite thing to do in summer? mine is definitely roller skating, or reading a book on the beach ^~^

have summer fic ideas? come vote in our summer solstice poll & send in your ideas, thirsts & suggestions to my inbox!

they are very hesitant at first to let you spoil them

of course they enjoy it, but they don’t want to take advantage of you

it takes a lot of gentle coaxing (and probably showing them your bank account) for them to warm up to the idea

they hardly ever ask you for things either

they have their own money to buy themselves things, and they don’t care much for fancy clothes or elaborate jewellery

you learn very quickly that the way to their heart is more through gestures than gadgets

the first time you pay their rent, they definitely call you in a panic

“I went to go pay my rent and they said it’s already been paid, do you think they made a mistake?”

“I paid it”

“You HUH?”

tried to pay you back before accepting you’d just buy them something else extravagant

you’re always browsing online auctions to see any rare rocks or artifacts being resold

nothing makes Sloan happier than being gifted with a long lost artifact

they’ll admire it for days until they return it to where it rightfully belongs

whenever they want to go on a new dig, or search for something new, you’re first in line to help fund it

equipment, travel arrangements—you’re paying for it all

Sloan is always very flustered when you spoil them, especially if it’s something big/expensive

they’ll always grant you an awkward, excited ‘thank you’ and spend the next few hours brainstorming how they’ll make it up to you

maybe they’ll attempt to cook you dinner, or gift you with an arrangement of fresh flowers and pretty crystals

or they’ll bury their face between your legs and spend hours eating you like you’re their last meal

Sloan will NEVER admit it, but they’re secretly turned on by you flexing your wallet on them

they’ll come to you all flustered and get down on their knees and beg you to let them touch you

call them Dumbledore cause they’re a head master

the odd time they do want you to buy something for them, they’re not afraid to show you just how much they want it

they’ll climb right into your lap and grind on your thigh, whimpering in your ear while they tell you exactly what they want

or bring out their toys and show you just how needy they are (though their face always burns with shame at first)

will beg you to sit on their face and tell them how good they are

on days where they feel bolder, they don’t beg at all

they’ll fuck you relentlessly until you’re sore and so overstimulated you can hardly speak

with each thrust they tell you just how badly they want you to fund their newest project

when they’re finally satisfied with your sorry, fucked out state, they’ll help clean you up before happily taking your credit card

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[sabrinbrin]

To no one's surprise the theme park nerd whose favourite character is the little purple mascot has fallen in love with the video game about a theme park with a little purple mascot. In addition to watching playthroughs and secrets videos about Indigo Park I also rewatched the character introduction video and noticed a few things: (spoilers for chapter 1 below!)

In Mollie's intro, UniqueGeese says that she's "a loyal bird who would do anything to protect her friends." This may be why she's the first one to face us, but also why she waits to take us down until after we fend off Lloyd. (While we technically don't see her head on until after then, she does show up multiple times on the train ride, including very close behind us in Lloyd's section, and probably could have killed us sooner if she wanted.) We weren't seen as a threat until our critter cuff causes Lloyd to flee in the theatre, and from there she may have decided to target us to try and protect everyone.

In the cast intro video UniqueGeese also speaks about how Mollie's his favourite, which makes it surprising that she's the first to die and makes me think that we're not done with her quite yet (though he did say on a recent livestream that we wouldn't be seeing her for the next few chapters, so this is just my speculation).

In Lloyd's intro, it states that he "struts across the stage with an air of arrogance that could rival any monarch. He's friends with the main cast, but he's really starting to push it." I think this may be why Rambley doesn't like him, and I wouldn't be surprised if we learn that other members of the cast dislike him too.

For some reason, Finley's intro censors that he collects sea shells. While it's understandable that some info aside from his name and image would be censored to preserve some mystery prior to the game's release, it strikes me as odd because it seems like a small and innocuous detail when stated in chapter 1. As well, Salem, a character who we are shown a lot less of and is still shrouded in mystery, has no extra details censored from their intro.

Not lore related but Salem uses they/them pronouns! Just wanted to add it because I've seen people online asking about their gender.

Speaking of Salem, their intro says that they're "quick, cunning, but try to hide it with their 'punk' exterior." Being quick and cunning don't strike me as things to be hidden with a punk exterior, and while I may just be looking deeper where I shouldn't, this leads me to think that Salem may have a softer side we haven't seen yet. This combined with the later note that they "can use countless inventions to get out of a sticky situation" makes me think that they may actually help us later on, despite their actions in the arcade game showcasing them as a villain.

My only note for Rambley is that his intro states he can get "a bit too excited, [but he's] always there for his friends" which fits what we've seen so far. I think he's trustworthy and just happy to see someone back in the park, and that if he does turn on us it will be against his will (though this is my own speculation and not from the intro).

Not from the character intros, but in another video (specifically the one about the knockoff merch), UniqueGeese says that we receive an item from Rambley in chapter 1 that will be used a lot more later on in the game. I think it's safe to say that's the critter cuff (as it's the only item we get from Rambley directly), and I'm curious to see what more it can do – so far, we know it can get us into various areas, fend off attacking mascots with a specific frequency (from Lloyd's encounter), and will eventually be able to resuscitate us (possibly being a checkoff's gun to be used later).

[staylovesmiley]

Collision— Chapter 3

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Stray Kids × afab!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; You've known him for years but you never would have guessed the charming guy you've been online gaming with has been an idol this whole time. (masterlist here)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; implied afab reader (only they/them pronouns used for reader), mild angst?, pls I haven't written fanfics since 2018 patience and kindness is appreciated

Soft sunlight filtered through a small gap in the gamer’s blackout curtains, shining against your eyes as you stirred from your slumber.

Eyes opening slowly, you grimaced and turned your back to the window, thus becoming face to face with a still sleeping Lee Felix.

He looked so peaceful like this, up close you swore you could count each individual freckle across his features. You couldn’t help but reach out gently to brush a strand of hair from his face which unfortunately caused him to wake slowly. Eyes fluttering open, he inhaled deeply. “Star- good morning.” Felix smiled, the deep rasp of his morning voice causing your heartbeat to quicken as you took in the close proximity to the other.

The blonde didn’t seem to mind as he pulled you closer, snuggling into your hair and breathing in again. “Your shampoo smells nice, ya know.” He said with a grin evident in his voice. “Um, thank you?” You giggled as you relaxed against him. This was something you felt you could get used to, you thought to yourself before mentally pushing the notion to the side. “What time is it? We should probably get up-“ before you could finish the words the door slammed open and in marched a groggy looking Hyunjin. The artist went to flop onto the bed beside Felix as he whined about missing him until he stopped cold in his tracks to take in the sight before him. A playful smirk grew on his face, Felix’s eyes widening at the implication. “Hyune wait-“ he started, struggling to get out from the covers to grab the elder male but before he could Hyunjin was already out of the room in a fury of laughter shouting something in Korean you couldn’t quite make out. “Uh….Lix? He doesn’t think what I assume he thinks- right?” The Aussie didn’t reply, only launching himself out of bed and taking off after the other while yelling for him to stop.

You sat up in Felix bed and rubbed at your eyes, somewhat lost as to what was going on until Minho came in and gave you a warm, yet slightly mischievous smile. “So, you did stay the night….I thought Hyunjinnie may have just been teasing Lix but he was right.” Eyes widening, you quickly jumped to defend yourself knowing good and well what he was insinuating. “We didn’t do anything but sleep!”

It was Leeknow’s turn to laugh as he shook his head, walking over to offer you a hand. “Oh trust me, we would have heard if you did.” You let him help you stand out of bed before giving him a look of disbelief. “And what makes you think that?!” You almost shrieked, pulling your hand back from where he had helped you. More laughter followed and the elder leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “Because our dear Lixie doesn’t know how to keep quiet, if you get what I mean.” He practically purred before pulling back leaving you there shocked, making his way back to the door. “Well, are you coming? Breakfast is going to get cold.”

You stood there for a moment longer, brain malfunctioning at the knowledge just bestowed upon you. “Right- coming!” You called out to him before making your way to the small dining table by the kitchen where four out of five men currently in the apartment were sat.

Seungmin was on one side, cheeks puffed out with where he was eating his breakfast and effectively stuffing his face. Across from him sat poor jeongin who had a lap full of Hyunjin as the elder snuggled up to him as he attempted to feed the younger much to his dismay though he allowed it nonetheless. Beside them was your friend, Felix, whom you couldn’t make eye contact with at the moment due to Minho’s cheeky comment.

Speak of the devil, he came out from the kitchen and thrust a plate full of food into your hands. “Go take a seat, yeah? I’m gonna drive you back to your hotel to get changed then we’ll meet the others at the company and go over a game plan for finding you a more permanent place to live.” You nodded, not sure when these plans were decided on your behalf but grateful that some of the weight was being taken off of your shoulders. “Thank you, really you guys are being such a big help.”

All five of them turned to give you a smile. “Anything for Felix friend~” Hyunjin teased with a giggle as the blonde began swatting at his arm. “Ya! I already explained that nothing went on- we just had a normal, PG sleepover okay?” The boys all gave each other a knowing look before nodding to their aussie friend. “Okay, fine I’ll drop it…for now.” The artist smirked, sending a wink your way before returning to his (and Jeongin’s) breakfast.

After an eventful breakfast where Minho only had to mildly threaten Hyunjin once to get him to give their maknae some peace, you were sat in the passenger seat of the older man’s car as he drove you back to your hotel to change and grab anything you needed.

The radio played softly in the background and you began to zone out, listening to the man beside you humming along contently. It wasn’t a long drive to your destination, and though it was done mostly in silence it was peaceful and much appreciated after the chaos that had been that morning.

Upon arrival at your hotel, Minho pulled to the front expecting you to just hop out and go in alone. “Um, did you wanna come in and wait in the room while I get ready? Im sure it would be more comfortable than sitting in your car-“ You suggested, giving him a friendly smile. Leeknow returned the smile and began pulling into the parking garage instead. “I didn’t want to invite myself in, but if you insist.” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes that you didn’t miss, filing it away under caution in case there was any meaning behind the look.

Once you both made it into your room, you motioned for Minho to take a seat on the bed while you started to dig through one of your suitcases for something to wear. On your trip over here you had only brought one large suitcase, a duffel bag, and a backpack. You figured that would be enough to last you and if you needed anything else you could always go shopping while living here.

Coming up with a pair of distressed black loose fitting jeans and a light colored loose crop top that ended just at your waist you nodded to yourself in approval and headed into the bathroom. “Hey Min do you think I have time to take a shower?” You questioned, not wanting to keep everyone waiting for too long. “Only if you’ll let me join you.” He said, face deadpan and you stared with wide eyes until he burst out laughing so hard he almost fell off his spot on the bed. “Teasing! Gosh- you’re gonna have to get used to me, cutie.” He said with a wink as you rolled your eyes, blushing nonetheless as you closed the bathroom door and started the shower.

After cleaning up and getting dressed you came back out into the bedroom and sat by your suitcase to put on some socks and your black high top converse. “Enjoy your shower despite my absence?” The older teased with a smile akin to the Cheshire cat, you rolled your eyes at him once more and moved to stand by the end of the bed. “Yes, very much so. Hopefully I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” He shook his head and stood, offering his arm politely with his signature smirk. “Not at all, shall we head out?” You nodded and took his arm, walking back with him to the car.

Another quiet ride later and you found yourself walking into the JYPE building hand in hand with Minho. He waved to the people at the front desk before leading you into the elevator. “Never in my life did I picture I’d ever be here…” you said somewhat breathlessly as you took it all in. Leeknow chuckled, shaking his head at your awestruck expression. “I was like that when I first became a trainee…it will wear off over time.” You shook your head at him, looking into his eyes with curiosity. “Over time? You mean this isn’t just a one time thing?” The older smirked, nodded the affirmative as he gave your hand a squeeze and pull you out at your stop and down a long corridor to their main practice room. “Like it or not but you’re stuck with us now, cutie.” You blushed slightly but scoffed, looking at him with disbelief. “What, like your mascot or something?” “I was thinking more like our pet, but mascot is funnier.” He teased causing you to gasp and hit his shoulder. Minho was laughing at the appalled look on your face as the two of you entered the room, causing the seven men inside to look at you with curiosity. “Bangchan get your child-“ you huffed, pulling your hand away from a cackling Leeknow and making your way to Felix, plopping down beside him and cuddling into his side to pout from the second oldest males relentless teasing. Your poor introverted heart couldn’t take much more lest it explode in your chest.

“Oh god what now? Do I wanna know?” Chan groaned, looking to where Minho was finally calming down. “I was only joking around with them. They fluster so easily it’s too much fun not to.” He said with a smirk and wink thrown your way before sitting by Jisung and whispering something to him causing the younger’s eyes to widen comically and his cheeks heat up considerably.

Once everyone settled down, Felix turned to face you while taking your hands into his own. “So- while we were waiting for you we went ahead and started looking up apartments nearby that are available. We just need to see if any of them meet your needs?” You hummed, deep in thought. “Well somewhere that has the option to be fully furnished would be nice considering I don’t have any of that stuff and don’t really wanna go through the trouble of having to buy an apartments worth of furniture so soon after moving here.” They all nodded and voiced their agreement. “That’s a good idea! I wouldn’t have thought of that-“ Seungmin spoke up, scooting closer to show what he had found on his tablet.

The rest of the afternoon was spent creating a list of places to check, making appointments to view them, and then breaking off into a group to go see few you were able to schedule for that day. Chan, Minho, Felix, and Seungmin being the ones chosen to go with you while the others went shopping for dinner later that evening at the 3racha dorm (Han specifically was sent home to make sure things were presentable for guests).

Once you were done with the tours you were able to take that day you all met back at the dorms, Chan and Leeknow getting started in the kitchen while the rest of you sat in the living room playing games on the switch or chatting.

Somehow Hyunjin had managed to pull you into his embrace, your legs draped over his lap while he cling to your torso and played with your hair absentmindedly as he conversed with Han about a new drama he had started and thought the other would enjoy. Felix sat on the other side of you, your back partially leaning against his side as the two of you looked at where you had genshin pulled up on your phone. Everything felt domestically blissful and you felt yourself acclimating into their group nicely. How long you would be allowed to stay in their company like this you weren’t sure but one thing you did know was that you were going to cherish these moments while they lasted.

After dinner, Felix tried to bribe you into staying over again but you turned him down with the promise to meet up with him again for lunch the next day instead.

Minho offered to drive you back again but somehow you ended up in the passenger seat of Chan’s car instead. “Uh- not to sound like I’m ungrateful for the ride, just confused um wasn’t Leeknow the one taking me back to my hotel?” Laughter rang from beside you, the Aussie pulling out carefully onto the road towards your destination. “He was but I wanted to get some alone time with you. Is that okay?” The older glanced over to you at a stop light, flashing you a charming smile before turning his attention back to the road. You felt a warm blush creep onto your face and shrugged. “That’s okay, yeah-“ you stammered out before the cafe fell into silence slightly less comforting than when you were with the second oldest, perhaps due to the awkward nervousness you felt over how you had spoken about the individual sitting to your left previously. “So….Wriothesley, huh?” This caused you to choke on air, making Chan laugh hysterically. “Oh my god Felix I’m going to KILL you-“ you groaned with embarrassment and hid your face into your palms. “Really? It’s not that bad….no worse than the things stay have said.” He chuckled, his laughter finally calming down though an amused look still stayed on his face. “Still- I can’t believe he told you what I said that is so embarrassing….” You sighed, turning to look out the window with a soft pout before looking back over to him. “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I didn’t mean anything by it is was just-“ Chan cut you off, rather boldly. “I wish you did.” You froze, mouth shutting so quickly your teeth clicked together audibly. The oldest smirked at effectively shutting you up as he pulled up to the hotel. “Here we are. Let one of us know when you’ve made it to your room safely, yeah?” He said, smiling at you innocently as if he hadn’t just implied he wished you had feelings for him only seconds earlier. “Right….uh th-thank you again for the ride. For everything today really-“ and with that you quickly exited the vehicle and dashed towards the front door, making sure to turn around at the last minute to give a short wave then disappear into the building.

As he pulled away, Chan smiled smugly to himself and spoke to no one but himself. “This is gonna be fun…”

It was about a week later that you finally settled into your new apartment, one only a twelve minute walk to JYPE and even closer to the dorms. You were sure the boys pulled some sort of strings to be able to keep you so close by so soon but you weren’t about to complain. Just as life was starting to quiet (as much as it could having a group of eight men as your main clique), you had started going to classes and even arranged for some more of your personal belongings to be shipped from home in the states by your family so you could make things at your new apartment feel more personal.

The members seemed to always be over, or you at theirs. You never did bring up what Chan had said in the car that night and neither did he, so you assumed it was more teasing like Minho had been doing as well and decided to forget about it all together. Speaking of the teasing it never let up, as he said you were going to have to get used to him. It took some time but eventually you began to open up, though you were still too flustered to ever create a good comeback.

One night, marking your third week in Korea and your second in your new apartment, you were over at the cuties dorm for a movie night. Seungmin was out with some of his friends outside of the group, and 3racha were still in the studio working late, so that left you with Danceracha and half of Vocalracha for the evening. “Lix how much longer until the cookies are done?” Hyunjin asked for the millionth time as he sat on the floor with his face pressed against the oven window eagerly awaiting the sweet treats promised to him. “A watched pot never boils.” You said with a sing song tone as you passed by him with the dirty dishes from dinner, patting his head lightly. He huffed, looking up to glare daggers at you. “You’re supposed to be on my side! Traitor.” You just laughed and started washing the dishes.

“Woah there what are you doing?” Felix questioned as he came and started to push you out of the way of the sink. “I’m washing dishes what does it look like?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “Nope you are our guest how many times do I have to say?” He scolded, successfully pushing you away and taking over what you had started. “Well then what am I supposed to do?” “You could come keep us company!” Shouted Minho from the couch, patting the spot between himself and the maknae. Shrugging, you made your way over and sat in the spot offered to you. “What are you up to?” You asked the youngest.

Jeongin was currently scrolling through his phone, eyebrows scrunched tightly together. “Looking for where to stream the movie we were thinking of watching-“ he answered, eyes still glued to the device. “Oh? What was it you guys settled on?” Minho was the one who answered, leaning over so his chest was fully flush to your back so he could whisper in your ear. “Something scary. But don’t worry, you can cling to me if you get scared~” he purred and you felt a shiver run up your spine. “Oh- that sounds fun I don’t think I’ve seen a scary movie in a while.” This was an understatement, you’re sure you had never seen a scary movie as you were well…scared to.

Once the snacks were done and the lights turned off, you pulled a blanket over your lap before hugging your knees to your chest. Not even halfway through the movie and you were doing just as he said, clinging to the dancer and hiding your face in his shoulder. “Geez, Cutie I didn’t think you’d be this scared…are you gonna be okay?” He asked, concern laced throughout his tone and tied to his words. “Y-Yeah I’ll be okay….sorry if I’m bothering you too much holding onto you like this-“ “No! I mean, I told you to so you’re just listening to what I said. I should have known you’d follow orders well.” He suddenly became smug, teasing you to hopefully distract from your fear but also to watch the blush he loved so much color your features for him.

Just at the height of the movie, the door swung open and a tipsy Seungmin stumbled In successfully scaring you so badly you jumped onto Leeknow’s lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face there as you screamed. The older held you tight, surprised at first but then as he rubbed your back to calm you down he shot a glare at the second youngest. “Hey! Try to be a bit quieter when you return, please? You gave our Star a heart attack I’m afraid.” You whined, clinging tighter but now to hide your embarrassment. The others let out quiet chuckles thought they had been almost if not just as scared as you were by the puppy’s sudden arrival.

“I think nows as good a time as any to call it a night….do you want me to drive you home or would you rather one of us walk with you?” Minho questioned you. You pulled back to look at him, then the others. “Anyone wanna walk with me or am I letting the cat drive?” You asked, causing Leeknow to hit your shoulder lightly. “I should take offense to that but cats are the superior beings. So thank you.” You rolled your eyes and Hyunjin jumped up. “Since you four are already home so to speak I’ll walk Star home!” You smiled and stood, apologizing for jumping into Minho’s lap in the first place which he waved off with only some light teasing before bidding you both a goodnight.

On the walk to your apartment, the two of you had your hand interlocked, swaying them lightly. “So…how are you liking things here?” The artist asked, glancing down at you to his right. “I think I’m enjoying it here too much….I won’t want to leave when my visa is up in a couple of years.” Hyunjin frowned at the mention of your eventual departure, shaking his head like an etch a sketch to get rid of the troubling thoughts. “I’m glad you are having a good time…I hope that at least is partly because of us.” “It most definitely is! You guys have been so kind, I’m really lucky to have friends like you.” You replied, smiling brightly up at the other before looking ahead to see your building coming up. “Friends like us…yeah.” He sighed, the phrase barely a whisper so you didn’t quite catch what he had said. Once you made it to the front gates you bid him a farewell, insisting you could make it inside just fine.

Reluctantly, he agreed but waited until you were safely inside before heading back to his empty dorm.

It was roughly four fifteen in the morning when you woke to use the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and turning to get out of bed. Upon your feet hitting the ground you were shocked wide awake by the wet feeling that shouldn’t be there.

Frantically you grabbed your phone and turned the flashlight towards the floor to see a few centimeters deep of water covering everywhere. You quickly turned on the lights and saw that it wasn’t just your room but your whole apartment had been flooded. The culprit was the waterlines connected to your refrigerator. You groaned, still a big groggy from your interrupted sleep and still needing to pee. You put in an emergency maintenance request, taking pictures of everything as you went for documentation as well as making sure all valuables were safe from damage or at least any further damage. Once you felt a little more in control of the situation the gravity of it all fell on you like a ton of bricks and you started to cry. First, a few tears slipped past unnoticed until soon you found yourself on the middle of your bed with your head in your hands and shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs. Crying only made you feel worse in that moment, the ringing of childhood bullies calling you crybaby echoed through your mind causing you to wipe furiously at your face to get rid of the tears. Once you had calmed down slightly came the next course of action….where are you going to stay now?

Hesitantly, you opened your contacts and dialed the only person you thought may be up at this ungodly hour who could come to your rescue.

“Star? Is everything okay? Are you crying?” The sounds of your sniffling made it through the phone before you could even speak. You thought you had calmed down enobut hearing the concern in his voice only caused the emotions to bubble up again. “Chris? I-I need your help….my apartment is-“ you choked a bit on a sob, causing the other to panic more. “Hey- it’s okay it’s gonna be okay, baby. Can you take a deep breath? I need you to be able to tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You could hear some rustling in the background, what sounded like Bangchan speaking to Han and Changbin while you took a few deep breaths at his instruction. “My apartment is flooded….like completely flooded and I don’t know what to do I already put in an emergency request but I don’t know what to do now do I just go back to bed is it safe to sleep here for right now I’ve never had anything like this happen I don’t know what to do-“ you began to ramble, nerves fully taking over your body and Chan had to speak over you at first to grab your attention. “Hey hey listen to me, Star? Hey- listen. Deep breaths,remember? Relax.” You heard the sound of a car door and then an engine coming to life. “I’m on my way to get you, okay? Grab whatever you’re going to need at least for a few nights you can stay at the dorms and we will figure out where to go from there. It’s gonna be okay, yeah? I’ll be there soon.” You nodded, taking a minute before realizing he couldn’t see you, “o-okay…thank you, Chan. I’ll see you soon?” “See you soon.” And with that he hung up the phone.

Not even ten minutes had passed and you heard his knocks at your door. You had your duffle slung over your shoulder as you made your way through your drenched apartment and to the front door where you opened it only to immediately be enveloped in the leaders warm embrace. The sobs started again, only softer this time as once again you felt an overwhelming sense of dread over the whole situation and now feeling like a burden to your friends for them having to take you in, even if they offered and it was only temporary. “Hey, everything is gonna be okay….I’ve got you, don’t worry.” Was all he said, rubbing small circles on your back as he let you sob into his chest.

author’s note: sorry for so much skipping around in this chapter involving the apartment hunting situation and the mini timeskip- I had started writing more details about the whole process of acquiring the apartment but it just felt so boring and like it wasn’t super idk necessary so I just skipped a bunch to keep things flowing a bit more- I hope you all don’t mind! Again, please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series and do let me know your thoughts I absolutely love reading you guy’s feedback it gives me the fuel to keep going I swear! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ also if you have any feedback you’d like to share or perhaps any suggestions you’d like to see for what may happen in the series please do share I absolutely love listening to others ideas and it helps get my creative juices flowing at well so please feel free to send those my way (might even see them pop up in some capacity if I feel like it could fit well with where I want things to end up heading) ᕱᕱ⊹₊ ⋆

tag list; @softkisshyunjin @coastinglove @palindrome969 @amara-mars @whiteghostt @silverstar-1117

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Twice Buried [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@i06gyu) Center (@@mickisnotclever) Right (@sleepinginthelibrary)

Prompt: Aaron finds out about the depth of pain the reader went through in her childhood and he can’t let the wrongs done to her go without risking their relationship, so he takes matters into his own hands. 

Pairing: Aaron x BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Angst/Comfort 

Word Count: 14.9K

Content Warnings: Mention of childhood sexual abuse [reader] hoarding, gross bugs, phobias [reader] mention of food and drink, character in distress [reader] mention of death of a family member [reader]. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! It has been a good while since I’ve posted a fic. If you want that whole, what happened in Levi’s life recently story, feel free to check out my other posts. I can’t promise fics will be written and posted as often as they used to be, but I am still writing, and I still love Aaron. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/n had been reserved since joining the BAU. Everyone noticed it. Worse than Emily, who had made a special kind of splash by crash landing ‘by accident’ on the team. But y/n had been far from an accident. She’d been on an arranged agent swap with the General Directorate for Internal Security or the GDIS for short on their anti-terrorism team. After the ‘Je Suis Charlie’ incident in 2015, the U.S. was afraid of similar incidents happening in the States and had sent a few agents abroad to get a better grasp of the situation and then report back to the FBI and the Pentagon. y/n had been one of those agents. When she spotted a similar trend online that indicated that another attack was imminent she acted in time. The information had been found in a private Discord Server which Penelope had helped hack. The ring had been larger than any of the team could imagine, and having y/n on the team had been a help. It wasn’t a long time later before Dave sent y/n an invitation to join the team for a prolonged period of time. y/n had agreed. Getting an invitation to be on the BAU was like winning the lottery, and she hadn’t won anything in her life before, so she wasn’t going to give up this one chance to make something of herself. 

The change from y/n’s original team to the BAU had been a culture shock, even though she’d been on the team for a short time before. Her somber and almost aloof attitude while in the office had rubbed some of the team the wrong way. Aaron had to remind them that they all had a period of adjustment, except for Spencer, who was basically raised in the FBI. All of the original members of the team had laughed at that and agreed with Hotch. However, time passed and yes, y/n had gotten better. She was less aloof, and the team realized they had mistaken that first emotion for a closed-offness that y/n kept herself in. 

She was marvelous at redirecting conversations back to another member of the team, or vaguely answering without really giving any solid details. If their group had normal people, they wouldn’t have even noticed, and it was clear to all of them that y/n’s former team had been the same way too. However, the BAU relied very much on knowing each other, even if it wasn’t all the gory details, Hotch for one had never opened up about his younger years, but hints were appreciated, so they could keep each other safe. 

For example, if the team hadn’t known how bad Spencer’s drug problem had been, they wouldn’t have been able to protect him from the legal ramifications of his actions. They had protected him from that. But over time, y/n had stayed wary and guarded, though she had started attending events with the team outside of work which was an improvement. Finally, JJ stepped in and told y/n, respectfully, if she could just try and talk more to the team. They wanted to know her and cared about what she thought. This had hurt y/n at first. She felt betrayed and that she’d let her new team down. y/n knew JJ was saying this in good faith and not to demean her in any way. She’d experienced that before and this wasn’t that. So, slowly, y/n had started talking more and giving her thoughts on things. She still stayed mostly quiet about herself. Why would remain a mystery to the team for a long, long, time? 

Once when the team was out for a post-case, late-night meal, they were talking about and laughing, and Aaron was sitting across from y/n. He had paid a lot of attention to y/n. In some small ways, she reminded him of Elle, and he felt like he had failed Elle in some fundamental way when she had ‘left’ the team. No matter how much better y/n had become at sharing her emotions and opening up, there were still obvious tells that Hotch could perceive around a topic that made y/n wary. Things like family, or childhood, or the past. When these conversations started, as one had that evening, he watched as y/n’s face fell flat for just a micro-second. When her normally pretty expression changed to this, Aaron imagined y/n as a marble statue whose bright paint had chipped away decades ago. Someone stuck in a moment of anguish forever. y/n always snapped out of it, and the other members of the team didn’t seem to notice it, but Aaron did. He wondered what was behind those moments of affectless expression. It bothered him, but he didn’t pry. He hoped, that when the time was right, y/n would find the courage to open up herself. But he wasn’t going to pressure her into a confession. That was against his moral compass. He knew from personal experience that it was harder to speak about difficult things when pressure was added. 

The team kept trekking on as the summer moved into the fall and a few more facets about y/n were discovered. The team was on a case in the Midwest. A small town off the beaten track where an unsub had been finding more and more gruesome ways to kill people. It was halfway through the case and the team was going back to the hotel to catch some sleep before the start of another day. 3:00 a.m. at a small motel was oddly liminal, and Hotch felt a sense of unease as they all trudged to their rooms. y/n was next to him on the left and he walked with her up the stairs on the outside of the building toward their rooms. y/n covered her mouth as she yawned. She’d told Hotch it was okay, that she could walk by herself, but he insisted he go with her. He didn’t like the idea of y/n walking around outside at this time of night, even if it would be under a five-minute walk. 

y/n could feel her legs lagging up the stairs as she was so tired. She’d done a lot of physical work that day and her brain and body were protesting. As y/n lowered her hand from her mouth and said, “Sorry. Hotch. I’m so ready for bed.” What she was trying to say was that she was moving slowly, slowing him, and his long legs down from getting some sleep. Even though y/n wasn’t very clear with her words, Aaron understood what she meant and was about to say that it was totally fine, but as they reached the landing, an eerily human-child-sounding scream came from the dimly lit parking lot. 

This shocked y/n and Aaron into awareness, and Hotch, subconsciously pulled y/n quickly behind his body. He could feel how tense y/n was. How on edge as her hand brushed his side to look around his body. He held his hand out to the side to keep her back in case it was a dangerous situation. Thankfully, a long second later, there was a thump and another sound as a skinny coyote scampered away from the dumpster in the corner of the lot. Both Aaron and y/n deflated and Hotch turned to look at y/n, and they both chuckled at how frightened they had been at the presence of an animal. They finished getting to their rooms and y/n raised a hand saying, “Night Hotch. See ya in the morning.” Aaron shot her a hint of a smile and said, “Sleep well, y/n.” 

Aaron moved into his room and turned on the lamps. The walls were paper thin in the motel, and he heard as y/n moved around in her room just a wall away from his. Apart from that it was relatively quiet for a bit as Hotch got out of his black slacks and into the grey sweatpants he normally slept in during cases. They were soft and worn in a way he liked. He had just slipped on his classic white short-sleeved shirt from his suitcase and was just moving toward the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth when there was a yelp from y/n’s room, then a crash and the hurried steps of y/n running toward her door. He heard the rusty hinges scream as y/n moved outside and he wasn’t far after her. Outside he caught y/n putting her hand on her chest, breathing heavily and looking more than a little distraught. Before he could ask if everything was alright, Morgan came dashing up next to y/n and placed a hand on her back asking in his husky voice, “Everything alright, y/n? What’s going on?” Morgan was panting too as he had run up the stairs when he’d seen y/n come out of her room the way she had. 

y/n cleared her throat and forced herself to visibly relax and take a breath before saying, “It’s nothing really, just a bad bug. Sorry, I might have overreacted.” Hearing this Derek let out a large laugh and said, “Wow, you really had me scared there for a second. Who knew that you could be scared by a bug? You’re always so stoic, y/n.” Hotch watched y/n laugh, but he could tell it was fake. Morgan continued, “What was it y/n? A spider or a scorpion? Want me to get it for you?” y/n smiled at the ground and said, “Nah, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer, Morgan. I was just surprised when I opened the bathroom door is all.” Derek shook his head and said, “Alright, well if you find any more nasty surprises in your room you just give me a call and I’ll sort it out for you.” y/n nodded and said, “Will do, Derek. You’re the best.” Morgan nodded and gave y/n a pat on the back and then moved past Hotch to get to his own room. 

Aaron caught that y/n hadn’t elaborated on what the bug species was, and he noticed that she seemed to greatly relax once Morgan had made a joke of the whole situation which was clearly adversely affecting her. Once Derek was in his room, Hotch checked in saying, “What was it, y/l/n?” y/n’s head snapped up as if she’d forgotten he was there. y/n dropped her eyes to the ground again and said, “I don’t want to say it Hotch.” Aaron nodded and gently replied, “Does it start with an ‘r?’” y/n cringed but nodded yes. Aaron let out a breath and said, “You want me to get it for you?” After a moment, y/n looked up at Hotch, and he could see that she was embarrassed for being in this situation in the first place. Hotch moved a hand to y/n’s elbow and said, “y/n, I don’t mind. I know they’re gross.” Finally y/n looked at him and said, “Okay. Thanks, Aaron.” Hotch nodded and stepped inside. He kept his eyes mostly trained on the open bathroom door which light was spilling out of. He couldn’t help himself from seeing some of y/n’s more private clothing items on the bed before he moved his eyes safely to the stained carpet. 

In the bathroom, the roach was comfortably hanging out on the wall near the sink. It was like the bug sensed Aaron’s presence and quickly and unnervingly moved off the wall and toward the shower. Hotch grabbed a handful of toilet paper to get the bug. He pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and the roach moved again to the nearest dark corner. Aaron didn’t like these bugs either. It was something about the way they moved that freaked him out slightly, but he was older, and a man, and he didn’t mind doing this for y/n if it made her feel better. With a decisive move from his hand, Aaron caught the bug in the white paper and he didn’t pay attention as the bug’s body made a crunching sound as he closed his hand around the paper. He quickly threw the chitinous corpse into the toilet and flushed it away before closing the lid and stepping back through the room. He scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any more surprise bugs and he noticed the shattered lamp which y/n must have tipped over when she ran from the room. He strode across to the side of the bed, picked up the small trashcan, and moved back to the shattered pieces of the lamp.

Aaron didn’t notice as y/n, who had been standing at the threshold of the room dropped her hands from covering her mouth, as she chewed on her nails, a nervous tick of hers, and back to her sides. She walked back into the room and next to Hotch and said, “Hotch, you don’t need to do that. I can sort it out. I’m sorry.” Aaron finished picking up the largest parts of the lamp, careful not to cut his hands on any of the glass. Only after he had finished this did he stand and say, “It’s not a bother, y/n. I’m happy to help. You should call the front office and have someone come and get the rest of the glass this morning, and if you use the restroom in the middle of the night, at least what’s left of it, make sure to wear shoes.” y/n nodded timidly, and exhausted and tried not to think about Hotch thinking about her moving around her room in the middle of the night. “Thanks again,” she said as Aaron moved to the door and shut it for the last time that night. 

Once Hotch was out of the room, y/n lay back on the bed so tired that she thought she might fall asleep right then and there. She thanked her guardian angel that she hadn’t seen the bad bug before she’d taken off her pants, because she would have run outside her room with or without pants on, and the idea of Derek, and more significantly, Aaron, seeing her in her underwear, she’d never live it down. After a moment, y/n turned her head to the door which she’d need to lock, and then toward the bathroom, which she still needed to use before she could fully relax. But given the bug and its essence that was left of it, no matter how small, y/n didn’t want to go back to the bathroom. She didn’t want to leave the bed. If she was younger, she’d have tucked her legs into her chest and stayed there for the rest of the night with all the light burning until the dawn sun illuminated her room in shades of pink and orange. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore, and she did get up and lock the door. She did put on shoes, as Aaron had suggested which felt good. It was nice and meant no glass pierced the soles of her feet and it meant she was off the ground. y/n knew this was silly, a coping technique she’d built for herself over the years, but it did give her the strength to quickly wash her face, brush her teeth, and put patches on her acne. By the time this was done, y/n moved back to her bed, turned off the lights, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

In his room, Aaron moved back to the bathroom and took a shower before getting under the covers. He looked at the ceiling and realized that he’d learned more about y/n in his interaction with her that evening than he had in their whole time as Unit Cheif and supervisor. He pondered if he was wrong for wanting to know more about y/n. Why she was so closed off? What it was that she had to hide. He couldn’t help himself for thinking it was funny that she didn’t like bugs, but he couldn’t blame her for it either. It was never fun to have unwanted company, human or otherwise. He fell into the oblivion of sleep with a look of shame and perhaps gratitude as y/n had let him go into her room and take care of her unwanted guest. 

Aaron didn’t make many more discoveries about y/n until a month later when it was close to 5:00 p.m. and he was sitting in his office. There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see y/n peaking into his office. He sat up a bit straighter and said, “Come in, y/n. Do you have a question about something?” y/n shuffled into the room and kept looking at the floor before she finally raised her eyes and met his. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek before she said, “I have a favor to ask you if you’re willing. If it’s too much then no worries at all, you just seemed like the right person for this problem I’m having.” Hotch’s eyes widened in surprise. What could y/n possibly need from him that someone else couldn’t offer? He hoped his intrigue didn’t play out on his face as he motioned for the chair across from his desk and said, “Well, let me know what we’re dealing with and then I can let you know. Is it a work thing? Please tell me it’s not a Drake-type of situation again, is it?” He was concerned now and looked at y/n’s face closely for signs of distress. 

Drake had been an agent, who was quickly reassigned to a small HQ in Seattle who had made some untoward comments toward other female agents, including y/n. It had been y/n who had gone to JJ, and JJ who had gone to him to reveal the whole situation. When Aaron heard this he got so angry that he stood, placed his hands on his desk to steady himself before he sat back down, and asked JJ to tell him everything she knew as he grew more and more disgusted by some of the male agents in the building. He’d taken the situation to HR and made sure that y/n nor any of the other female agents were named in the official complaint before going to Strauss and basically demanding a transfer for Drake or outright termination. 

Aaron was thankful when y/n nodded her head no and said, “No, Sir. Nothing like that,” as she sat across from him. He pushed aside his laptop so that there wasn’t anything blocking their view and he waited for y/n to say what had brought her in. After a moment of silence y/n let out a breath and said, “It’s really silly, actually…” Hotch stopped her from continuing by leveling a friendly glare at y/n which made her stop and try again. y/n swallowed and said, “Well, last month there was a leak in my apartment that never got fully fixed. It was livable, but I think there’s mold in my unit now which I think has made me sick again and off again for the last two weeks. I need to get it tested, but I was wondering if there was something in my lease that I might use against my apartment complex to break my lease?” y/n looked over at Hotch. His large brown eyes only seemed more intense in the low light of his lamps. She knew he was listening to her, wanting all of the pieces of the puzzle she was trying to tell him so he could help her. That was one thing y/n loved about Aaron. He never ignored anyone on the team or anyone in need of help, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed some help. y/n continued by saying, “And, well, I’ve tried reading my lease a few times but it doesn’t make any sense to me. There is a clause about mold, but I can’t figure out the legal jargon. I was wondering if you could read it over for me if it’s not too big a bother.”

Hotch could see y/n rubbing her hands together softly on her legs, a self-soothing gesture she was prone to when y/n was stressed. He let out a little breath and said, “Of course I can, y/n. I’d be happy to help you.” He paused before adding, “I can also probably fix your leak issue while we work out the logistics of the lease. If there is mold, and you did get sick from it, there might be grounds for a civil suit, if you wanted to take legal action that is.” y/n’s face settled into one that was relaxed, and replied, “I’m not sure if I have the energy for that. I don’t even know if I have the energy to move. I’d just like to have the option. To know that I have an option.” Hotch nodded in understanding but didn’t say that. Instead, he stated, “Well, how about we set up a date for me to look over the lease and or your apartment if you want? I’m open this weekend if that works for you?” Hotch felt strange almost inviting himself into her home. He could easily read y/n’s lease in the office, but something told him not to. 

Although Hotch was far from a Marxist he didn’t believe in bringing personal work into the office. He would happily take office work home, but not visa versa. Also, by throwing out an open date for him, which he didn’t often have, he hoped y/n would realize that he did want to help her, not only with her legal issues but with her apartment which was apparently falling apart and making her ill. The idea of that bothered him more than it should have. Aaron was forced from his own head when y/n said, “Yeah. That works for me. Um, what time would you like to come over?” Surprised that y/n would let him of all people, into her space he replied, “How about 9:30? Is that too early for you?” Again Aaron was faced with the fact that he hardly knew anything about y/n. Did she wake up late on the weekends like Reid? Did she work out like he and Morgan did? Did she go out with friends to brunch like Emily? Did she have a boyfriend or girlfriend to wake up to like JJ did every morning? Not all of this information about his teammates had just been told to him, but he knew it nonetheless, and being so bereft of details about y/n’s life made him feel like he knew nothing about her, even if that wasn’t true.

Aaron’s eyes moved up as y/n said, “Hotch, Hotch. 9:30 is great for me. Is it okay with you?” Hotch felt awkward having been caught unaware twice by y/n in the course of under an hour. Aaron replied, “Yes. Sorry, I’m distracted today, y/n. Can you text me your address and I’ll put it in my calendar?” y/n smiled and replied, “Sure thing, Hotch. Thank you for the help.” Aaron nodded and said, “Let me know if you need a place to crash before Saturday. I bet the Bureau can get you a hotel room or something. I don’t think staying in a place that might be making you sick is in the best interest of the department, or my agent.” y/n tried to hide her smile at Aaron’s concern for her. He was trying to mask it too, but not very well. She told him she’d let him know and left his office feeling better than she had in some time. 

That Saturday was the first time that Aaron saw y/n’s apartment. As y/n walked him toward the AC unit that had been leaking, he tried to look around without it looking too obvious. His eyes scanned the kitchen and living room and then he moved into y/n’s small bedroom. They were chatting about their days so far, and as Aaron sat down on the floor, y/n handed him Philip’s head screwdriver to remove the grate from the crawl space below her AC. y/n asked, “So you really run five miles every Saturday morning? How do you deal with the heat? I’m tempted to just stay in all the time during summer.” Aaron let out a chuckle and said, “I think you build up the tolerance. And I wear a lot of sunscreen. They say fresh air is good for you, especially if you’re living in an apartment with mold.” Hotch had meant the statement as a joke, but when y/n didn’t laugh, he bit his tongue and hoped he hadn’t offended her. He didn’t mean to, but by the time he was formulating a response, he noticed the drip and the simple fix to the issue. An issue that the repairmen who had been there a few times already should have easily fixed weeks ago. He grunted slightly as he inched his way forward on his elbows with a wrench in one hand and a flashlight in the other. 

This time in the small space did give him the opportunity to think about y/n’s place a bit more. It was old but decently maintained, and it was clean. When he’d done the walk to get to this part of the house, he hadn’t thought much about it. But now as he saw normal signs of an older building, cobwebs, stains, and dust, he realized he’d seen very little of that in y/n’s space. It was like the apartment was staged, waiting for the photographers to come from Architectural Digest to get their pictures and get her opinion on the Pantene color of the year. y/n didn’t have a lot of things. Her furnishings were sparse but looked comfortable enough. But inside, Aaron had the feeling that maybe somewhere, storage, the attic - there wasn’t one - a closet, there were boxes of things that gave meaning to y/n’s life that she’d neglected to put out or up. Hotch sighed as he tightened the bolt that was allowing water to drip down the side of y/n’s pipes. There were multiple spots like this. It would take a while and some maneuvering on his part, but Hotch didn’t mind. This reminded him of his first apartment in college, but that was much more of a mess. Living with three other guys, it was bound to happen, even if he kept his space relatively clean. 

It took Hotch a few minutes to finish up the work on the leaks before he wriggled back into the bedroom. y/n extended a hand to him, and he took it as he stood with a small grunt. He was happy he hadn’t changed out of his workout clothes because being in such a confined space had made him even more sweaty. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and said, “Well, I think I have it all fixed down there, except for a small puddle from the leak. I can clean that up for you if you like.” y/n nodded her head no and said, “It’s fine, Hotch. You’ve done so much already, I can clean it up in a moment. I’m a bit, picky, with my cleaning habits.” Aaron nodded and said, “I get you. Reid is the same way.” y/n gave an understanding nod, and Hotch looked over y/n’s shoulder to the pictures neatly framed on y/n’s far wall. There were a few with y/n and some friends, maybe some from college and a few from her years in Paris. The photos had good composition even if they were only shot on an iPhone. Even though he had said it, Aaron knew Spencer wasn’t the same as y/n. They both cared for cleanliness, that was obvious, but there was something different about y/n that he couldn’t pin down. Some facts that he felt he was missing. 

Aaron wiped his dusty hands on his shorts and y/n said, “Do you want to wash your hands? Who knows what kind of gross stuff is under there.” She eyes the open grate and Hotch replied, “Yes, please. It’s not actually that bad down there, just dust mainly.” He chose not to talk about the spider webs, given y/n’s aversion to bugs. He’d swept away the webs anyway so she wouldn’t have to see them. y/n pointed Hotch to the door of the bathroom and he stepped inside closing the door He took a minute to look at his reflection. He didn’t look as sweaty as he felt, which he was grateful for. ‘Why does it matter?’ Aaron asked himself as he rinsed off his hands and then added a generous amount of hand soap into his palms. As he lathered the soap and then rinsed it off Hotch tried to quell the thoughts which had subconsciously been growing since he’d seen y/n looking frightened at the motel. If he tried hard enough, he could play them off in his head as protective, a fatherly gesture, but in his spirit, he knew this wasn’t true. Hotch dried his hand and pushed his hair around a bit until he liked how it sat. His ego nudged him whispering, ‘Vanity, Hotchner.” He snorted slightly and left the bathroom before he could get more in his head about his appearance. That wasn’t the point of him being here in the first place. 

By the time Aaron stepped back into y/n’s room, she had added three of the four screws back on the grate and into the wall covering the gaping hole that had been there. y/n looked up at him and smiled as she said, “Well now that you’ve helped me fix the leak I don’t think I have a reason to sue the landlord.” Hotch pressed his lips together before replying, “Well that might be true, but I think if your apartment is using a subcontractor for maintenance you could sue them for not knowing how to do their jobs.” y/n chuckled but as a big fan of not having any extra confrontation in her life, she didn’t think she’d be taking Hotch up on that offer. Instead, she asked, “Could I pay you back with a coffee, Hotch? There’s a good spot two blocks over. I was going to go there anyway to hang out for a bit.” Before the logical or even aware part of Aaron’s mind could respond he said, “You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?” His self-consciousness side blurted out what he was trying to avoid thinking in the bathroom. For a second Aaron felt like chucking himself out y/n’s bedroom window as he internally cringed so hard that his stomach hurt. 

y/n took a moment to process what Aaron had said and she stopped herself from scratching the back of her head in confusion. “‘You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?’” What the hell did that even mean? Did Hotch know how he looked? How her seeing him in something that wasn’t a suit had almost taken her breath away and sped up her heart rate three times past normal? She had thought as he worked on her AC, his body half buried in the wall, ‘He could send out a warning if he’s not going to show up in a suit. Good god, give a girl one chance not to be fucking lusting over her boss.’ She had been embarrassed by the thought, as Hotch clearly was embarrassed now. To not make the situation any more strange than it was and tried humor saying, “You mean like a guy wearing shorts and a Nike shirt?” y/n never knew if jokes would work with Aaron. He seemed to have a very sharp wit and she never knew where jokes would land with him. Thankfully this one worked and Hotch let out one of his rare laughs, shaking his head slightly at his inability to keep unwanted thoughts in. At least he hadn’t made a comment about y/n, who he thought looked lovely in her more relaxed outfit. After a moment of silence, he blinked and said, “Well alright then. You lead the way, though your apartment should be paying you for having to deal with this.” y/n chuckled and grabbed her purse as Hotch got his keys and wallet from the counter. They spent the next half hour chatting comfortably about work or people in the office, and whatever came up naturally. It was pleasant for both of them to just be allowed to relax in the presence of the other for once. When they had finished, Aaron thought for a moment that he understood y/n better. He did, but the most enlightening thing he would learn about y/n would come later in the year, and when it did, it hit Hotch like a load of bricks. 

It was September, and the weather was just starting to get cool in Virginia. The crispness of the air had the team in mostly good spirits. The latest cases had been easier.  Hotch was sipping his coffee from a cup Jack had given him for Father’s Day last year when there was a knock on his office door. He looked up from the rim of his cup to see y/n pop into the room and close the door behind her. After he’d helped her with her apartment, she had been more relaxed around him, and came to him every now and then with questions she still had about past cases or current files the team was supposed to do. The forms were often asinine and useless you’d been working in the department for years. Every time y/n made an appearance, Hotch had to settle himself and act calmly. It reminded him so much of the first time y/n had asked him for a favor. When she had been a new agent and afraid to disappoint him and the rest of the team. But this time was different and he could tell. This wasn’t y/n being shy to ask for help, or ‘checking in on him’ as she said when she had no reason to be in his office but inexplicably wanted to be there anyway. When y/n stepped in there was no attempt at a dad-joke. Instead, she was looking at his carpeted floor and there was an aurora of burden that came with her. 

Hotch was up and out of this chair before the words, “What’s happened, y/n?” left his mouth. y/n swallowed dryly and looked up at Aaron. He could see her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. y/n sniffled and stepped forward, leaning against the edge of Aaron’s desk as she said the easy part first, “I need some time off. A week or so, maybe more.” Hotch nodded his head in understanding saying, “Of course, you can get all the time you need. Can you tell me what happened, please?” There was silence, and y/n looked at her hands as she shakily replied, “My mom died yesterday. She made me the executor of her estate, so I need to go down to her house and work some things out with her will.” Hotch moved from his side of the desk to y/n’s and gently wrapped her in a hug. He could feel her shaking against him. He held her without much force, just giving her something softer to cling to than the sharp edge of his oak desk. y/n was grateful that Aaron had moved to this position. That she didn’t have to look at his face which was filled with worry. And she could not only hide her sadness but also her shame in the crook of his neck and shoulder. After a comfortable amount of time, y/n stood back and asked, “Can I leave now, or do you want me to stay till the EOD?” Hotch’s grip on y/n’s arms tightened slightly as he looked down at her and said, “Of course, you can leave now. I’ll send HR a memo. The team will help you if you want y/n. I’ll help you with anything you need. You just have to ask.” 

y/n sniffled and ran her hand under her nose which she knew was unbecoming of a federal agent, but she was past spent and decorum had seemed to go out the back door with the news that she would need to return to her childhood home. A place she had avoided for many years now. Her behavior repulsed her, expanded by her sense of shame. She didn’t want anyone with her for this. No one could see, and no one on the team could know. Still looking down, y/n said, “Thank you, Hotch. Can you just tell the team that a family emergency came up? This situation, it’s, it’s private, and I think I need some time to just get my head around it.” 

Hotch nodded in understanding. He had had moments when the rug had absolutely been ripped from underneath him. Aaron felt that there was something more going on, but he knew now was not the time to pry. Instead, he said, “Yes, of course, y/n. Can you just send me the address of the spot you’ll be staying at so I can give it to HR. They’ll ask you for it anyway, so if you let me know I can help you skip that step.” y/n looked at Hotch and said, “Sure Hotch. Thanks. I’m just going to get my stuff and go.” Aaron let y/n go and he watched her walk to his door, turn, and raise a hand half-heartedly before saying, “Thanks,” one more time and slipping out the door as quietly as she had come in. 

Hotch felt a tug at his chest. There was a small feeling of dread that he couldn’t not feel after y/n had left the room which made it hard for him to do anything else than send the forms to HR on y/n’s behalf. He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. He hadn’t once heard y/n talk about her parents. He knew that they had existed. It was on her transfer paper and application to the BAU. Clearly, the government had to know pretty much everything about a person to hire them into the inner ranks. But unlike Reid and Morgan, and occasionally Emily, y/n didn’t relegate any details about family around the team. He had always pictured her as an island, alone. At that moment Aaron decided that he would check in on y/n often in her absence. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin the trust they had slowly built between them, but his conscious wouldn’t let him not make sure she was okay because something inside him told him there was more going on here than simple grief. That feeling only grew worse as three days passed and y/n didn’t answer any of his calls and only one of his texts asking if she was okay, or if she needed anything. He’d offered to send her food, or coffee, or anything to her hotel, but there had just been one text: “Sorry Hotch, I’m too busy to think about this right now, thanks for the offer, I’ll take you up on it once I have more finished.” 

On the fourth day, a Saturday, Hotch couldn’t take the silence anymore. He knew he was pushing it, but he had y/n’s hotel address and the address of her mom’s house because she said she’d be at both pretty often working on things. Aaron thought it was absurd that the FBI still asked for a mailing address when someone went on leave. It was like asking for a fax number when everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. That was what made y/n’s non-response so jarring. As Aaron put the second address into his GPS, he was surprised to see that it was only a forty-five-minute drive away. He considered that y/n probably could have stayed at her apartment if she wanted to, but as Aaron got further from the city and into the exurbs, past the exurbs even to roads in disrepair, closed CVS’s franchises, and mobile homes, he realized that this juxtaposition from the luxury and safety of the city to this could be exhausting apart from all the emotions and work she was doing. Aaron wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw as he got further and further away from Quantico. He knew the makeup of Southwestern Virginia, but the poverty of the area never failed to make him take a hard look at what had once been a thriving community. He didn’t want this part of y/n’s past to affect how he saw her. Not that he’d ever judge her for living in a place like this, but with her life being so guarded, he couldn’t help but make assumptions about why she had remained quiet so often. 

When Hotch got the the far edge of one of the many trailer and mobile home parks it was easy to find y/n even if she hadn’t answered his two calls that morning. The only thing Aaron needed to see, y/n’s old car, was parked outside of the mobile home at the far edge of the plot. There was no house number or mailbox to indicate he was at the right place, but he knew he was. He parked beside y/n’s car and stepped out of his. As he walked closer to the house and locked his car doors he noticed the very rundown state of affairs at the domicile. Most of the windows were covered with cardboard and mildew was creeping up the edge of the fake wood siding of the housing. A few feet away from the front screened door the small assaulted his nostrils and he had to take a few deep breaths through his mouth to stop from being ill. The scent was distinctly one of rot, waste, and decay. With his arm over his mouth, Aaron wondered if y/n’s mother had died and been found a few days or perhaps a week after she had been deceased. The thought appalled him for y/n’s sake, and the idea of her being inside the home made him quicken his steps to see what was going on. 

Aaron moved up the two cracked and chipped concrete steps. He knocked on the gnarled screen door. y/n had kept the inner glass door open to get better air circulation of air in the room. Hotch swallowed and softly shouted, “y/n? y/n, are you in there? It’s Aaron.” The sound seemed to be absorbed into the house, the doors gaping mouth sucking everything into its blackness. The inside of the house was dim. Hotch couldn’t see any lights on and there seemed to be piles of stuff near the door half blocking it. Before Hotch stepped inside he thought that maybe the piles of boxes might be y/n packing up her mother’s things to get rid of or sell. However, after a minute of y/n not answering, Aaron decided to move inside the home and realized he was wrong. Hotch had to open the door and slide through the opening sideways to fit around the boxes which he realized were a fire hazard right away. As he was about to call to y/n again, Aaron’s eyes adjusted to the room and the words died on his lips. 

The front room of the small mobile home was filled with stuff. Boxes upon boxes were piled on top of each other. Many of which seemed to be growing mold or deteriorating. The boxes at the bottom were falling apart and yellowed or brown. The floors were also filthy, sticky, and littered with debris. As Aaron moved his way carefully further into the room he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of things around him. Not only were the boxes and trash overwhelming, but the scent had gotten considerably worse now that he was inside. After Hotch passed another pile of boxes, papers, and files he noticed that in the far corner was a couch which had one cushion cleared of garbage. It was the only clear spot he had seen in the house at all. Not that the couch cushion was clean, it was stained and smelled, but it didn’t have stuff on it. Aaron was coming to the realization of what y/n had grown up around as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area. 

This space was different and yet the same as the rest of the house. In the kitchen the windows weren’t covered up, so there was more natural light which highlighted the clutter even more. This clutter also wasn’t in boxes. It was on the counters and piled in all of the corners and crevices. The scent of rot was so bad here as boxes of discarded food, possibly years old sat on counters and in the sink. There were plates and cups forgotten and even as Hotch surveyed the disgusting scene he could tell there were bugs festering in the piles of rotting paper plates and unfinished coffee cups. There was one trash bag, half full of stuff sitting on top of one of the piles, but that was the only sign of life that Aaron could sense. From how bad the hoarding looked, he assumed that this had been going on for years, if not multiple decades. 

Hotch was fully in the kitchen and had almost forgotten why he was there. He was so surprised by what he was seeing that when y/n, who was very confused as to why her boss was inside her deceased mom’s house, rounded the corner, she was startled at his presence. Aaron whipped around effectively knocking a pile of things off of the metal folding table onto the floor. He watched as if in slow motion as a glass half of a puss-colored liquid crashed to the ground and broke. It seemed so loud in the small confines of the house that seemed to absorb all sounds into its piles of decay. He and y/n looked at the mess he’d made for a half second before a number of bugs, bugs that Aaron knew y/n didn’t like scurried out from the pile on the floor, and from the kitchen counters and onto the walls. y/n saw the bugs as clearly as Hotch and nearly jumped out of her skin swatting and brushing herself, afraid that some had gotten on her. Her breath had picked up and Hotch could see that y/n might be sick. Hotch’s instincts kicked in and he didn’t even apologize or explain why he was there. He simply knew that he had to get y/n out of this house. As far away as he possibly could. He stepped forward ignoring the retreating bugs looking for cover in some other dark corner of the room, took y/n’s arm in his, and started leading her toward the front door. y/n was trying to say something to him, ask him a question perhaps, but the blood was pumping in his ears and his heart was thumping in his chest. He’d answer any questions y/n had once they were outside. 

Aaron didn’t care that some boxes fell as he pushed the pile in front of the door out of the way. He could feel y/n shaking now and he wrenched open the screen door and followed her out, down the stairs, and into the front yard. y/n was still shaking and patting herself down like she might explode into flames while looking for bugs. Hotch stepped forward assertively and stilled her hands as he thoroughly brushed her off from her arms and shoulders, then down her chest and legs. He then moved to her back and did the same thing. When he did find a bug, he brushed it off and didn’t say a thing about it. When he got back to y/n’s front, she was breathing harshly through her teeth but seemed to calm down as she asked, “What are you doing here, Hotch?” 

Hotch looked at y/n and her eyes were telling him two stories. One was logical, “Is there a case? Did something bad happen? Do you need help?” and the other was everything else, “I didn’t want you here, go away, can’t you see what I’m going through?” Aaron felt terrible for how this had ended. He hadn’t expected this, but he knew the best answer was the truth, so he said, “I was worried about you,” and nothing else. y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself before looking over Aaron’s shoulder and into the house. y/n spoke the truth too, Hotch could always tell when she was lying: “I didn’t want anyone to see this.” Aaron swallowed and nodded, replying, “I know. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t known of course, but now he did, and all he could do was apologize. 

y/n composed herself. Putting her emotions back into all the boxes where they belonged and stood waiting for Hotch to say or do something. She knew if she started whatever conversation was about to happen she’d break, and she never wanted that. It was the thing that she had learned since leaving home; her secret weapon. Lie, tell half-truths, don’t show your emotions. Don’t let them know where you come from or who you really are, because if they knew, they’d never understand or give a damn about you. Slightly delusionally, y/n hoped that Aaron would get back into his car and leave, pretending he hadn’t seen anything. That he didn’t know her secret, and when she came back from leave, he wouldn’t say anything. He was kind, maybe he’d forget for her sake? 

Aaron watched the emotions play across her face like a silent film star on the big screen. It was only a series of seconds before y/n was back to the person he knew. The silence was intense and instead of leading with his emotions, Hotch tried to think logically. He assumed if he went from the heart he’d say something or ask a question that would distance y/n from him forever. So instead he asked the first logical question that came to mind, “Have you been in the house long?” Hotch was concerned that y/n might get sick again, this time from real mold and whatever other bad things inside the home, though his brain could think of little else apart from y/n not only as a child but an adult in such squalor. 

y/n’s soft, “No” had him relax. One thing was for sure, if he could avoid it, he wouldn’t be having y/n go back in there. Hotch looked back at y/n as she continued speaking, “I’ve mostly been in my hotel looking over the legal documents and trying to set my mom’s debts in order. And arrange some kind of funeral, though I doubt people will show up. She was kind of a recluse near the end of her life.” Aaron nodded along, grateful that she hadn’t spent much time here. He looked around the yard, unwilling to leave y/n here in this state, but also awkward about how he’d discovered this part of her past that she had so desperately hidden away like the trash inside. Aaron composed his next sentence carefully and asked, “Is there anything important that you need inside? Any of your mom’s documents, or items that have value?” Hotch tried to sound sincere in his words. He meant them, but with so much stuff inside, most of it looking like garbage, he knew it could come off as sounding condescending or like a joke. 

y/n thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably on her feet before saying, “All the important stuff is out like her documents and stuff. I really should go back in and start cleaning. I rented a dumpster out back for the week and it’s not going to fill itself.” Hotch appreciated that y/n was trying to be lighthearted through this, but he shook his head no, replying, “I’ll hire someone to come and clean up. y/n. I don’t want you going back in there.” He didn’t phrase it like a command. On this account, he had no authority apart from his care and growing feelings for y/n. 

At Aaron’s offer, y/n looked back at the house from which she had fled so many times. Could this be the last time? Could she walk away and never look back? Never feel like she was slowly being buried alive by junk and trinkets and trash? She took a breath of clean air and considered that maybe she could. Maybe this was the end she had been dreaming of for so long. Maybe someone had finally come to save her from this hell. As she was about to turn around and say, “Yes, please. Let’s do that,” to Aaron, a single item crossed y/n’s mind and she paused. She looked up at Aaron and truly asked for help for the first time in a long time. “There’s a stuffed rabbit inside. It’s in my room I think. Could you get it for me?” In asking this of Aaron, she was opening herself to him almost wholly. It was an invitation for him to see all of the parts of herself that she had hidden. It was the chance to be ridiculed as she had by friends in childhood who came over and saw how she lived. It was the chance for men, older men, to not even come inside and leave her mother sobbing in the front yard. y/n was already swallowing back the tears when Aaron would say no and leave her. It was all too much for most people. It had been too much for her too. She wouldn’t blame Aaron as he drove away to something safe. To a clean apartment and shower. To a son who loved him. To someone who was no longer his wife, but someone who still cared. Given that choice, how can you pick the former? 

“Where’s the bunny? Is it a certain color?” The questions almost knocked y/n off her feet. She took in more air before saying, “It’s in the very back room. It used to be my bedroom. It’s pink with a white nose and long floppy ears.” Aaron nodded, shaking off his coat, ready to go back inside. As he moved past y/n, she grabbed his arm and said, “You don’t have to do this Hotch. It may not even be in there.” They both looked at the home and this time Aaron tried to be optimistic as he said, “y/n, do you really think your mom got rid of your childhood stuffie?” y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrous question. She let Hotch go and watched as he entered the house while her heart was trying to figure out what to do with itself. Since she had heard the news of her mom’s passing, she was on the precipice of a very high and ragged cliff face. All she would have to do was fall and everything would be over, but Aaron was like the pair of strong arms that held her back. Asking if this was what she really wanted. 

Aaron went back into the house once more trying to ignore the smell. He carefully pushed past the kitchen and into the narrow hallway. There was hardly room for him to squeeze his broad frame though. He found himself coughing a lot as particulate matter got into his system. Once out of the darkened hallway, he moved to the final door at the end of the home, peaking into the two other rooms, the main bedroom and the bathroom which were somehow worse than the front of the house. The farther he got back the more the trash piled up. He paid no mind to what was on the floor or what he was stepping on or over to get y/n what she needed to be rid of this place. He’d have to look up hoarding more thoroughly now. He’d been to a few homes on cases in the past where it had seemed to be an issue, he’d even had to call CPS on one family so they would get their act together. However, this was the worst case he’d ever seen, and he could only imagine what it was like growing up in an environment like this. Hotch had so many questions he felt like asking, so many ideas running through his mind, but he knew he’d have to be sensitive. Now was not a time for an interrogation. Now was the moment to remind y/n that he would support her. That he could be there for her, and if he couldn’t say the other things he might want to, the things he kept hidden himself, the least he could do was that. 

Hotch had to push open the door harshly to get into the back room. It was so dark inside that Aaron pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on. This sent multiple bugs and what Hotch assumed was a small rat scampering into the dark. Aaron was surprised at how overwhelmed he could be by this problem, but even being in the house for a few minutes had him desperate for space and clean air. y/n’s apartment made total sense to him now. There was no clear path in this room and Hotch moved over whatever he needed to to get to the far wall. Under a window that was also covered with cardboard, he found a twin bed. It was mostly clear of stuff apart from the detritus in the room and he wondered if y/n or her mother had kept that one space clean. He was thankful to see the stuffed animal was on the center of the bed, old and stained brown by some substance of unknown origins. Aaron picked it up and moved as quickly and carefully as he could back out of the house. He attempted to look like he wasn’t running out of the place to not make y/n feel worse about his being there, but there was no hiding that once he was outside he felt so much better. He drank in the air like water and had a final fit of coughing before he moved toward y/n. 

The very sight of Aaron with her old stuffed animal had y/n near tears again. She could have lived without it, but it had been a single constant in her life and it was a reminder of everything she’d lived through. Having it felt like a trophy: “I made it. I’m here. Look at where I am now.” As soon as Hotch handed the bunny over with his long arms, and once y/n’s hands were around the worn-out toy whose fur was all but gone where she had hugged it as a child, she broke. There was nothing or no one that could have stopped her from pulling the rabbit to her chest and crumbling to the ground with sobs that wracked her body so hard that it hurt to breathe. Hotch watched as she crumbled to the ground and he ran forward trying to catch y/n, but she slipped out of his grasp like oil. y/n was curled in on herself and shaking and Hotch bit the inside of his lip. He moved slowly, not going to make any surprise moves on y/n’s fragile mental state, as he lowered himself to the ground. Once on his knees, Aaron leaned forward and placed one of his large hands on y/n’s back. She didn’t pull back from his touch, either too overwhelmed to do so, or comforted by him. Either way, after a moment Hotch leaned in further and covered her more with his body, anchoring her to something other than the ground and herself. 

It felt like a long time, like forever until y/n’s cries weakened and her breathing evened out. y/n let her body relax slightly, exhausted by her outburst. There were so many things y/n wanted to say to Aaron about how she was behaving. She figured this type of volatility could get her kicked off of the BAU, which is one reason she’d not wanted anyone’s help with this situation. She wanted to apologize but all she could say was the question that had been plaguing her for years, “Do you know what it feels like to have someone that’s supposed to love you chose absolutely shitty worthless trash over you? Do you know what that’s like Hotch?” y/n had spoken so softly that it was hard for Aaron to understand her, but the existential ache in her voice was one he knew well and he replied honestly, “No, y/n. I don’t, and I’m sorry you have to ask questions like that to yourself.” There was another loaded pause and y/n let herself go fully limp. Hotch hadn’t left yet and there was nothing left to lose if she just let go for a moment. She’d spent her energy, there was nothing left to give. Hotch supported y/n’s body, never letting it fully lay on the ground. He looked over her and said softly, “Let me get you to your hotel, y/n. Or just away from here, okay?” 

y/n nodded and Hotch helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily. Letting him take her anywhere but here. The pair was moving toward Aaron’s car when they stopped. y/n looked up from the ground to see what the issue was and why they had stopped. As soon as she saw who was approaching them, she froze. Went absolutely stiff as a board, and if Aaron hadn’t been there she would have fallen over, but her hands gripped onto his shoulder like a vice and she could feel him flinch but not move away. 

Aaron saw the man walking their way slightly later than he’d liked. He was leading y/n toward his car. He was going to take her to the hotel and try and get some food and water in her before making any more suggestions. But this new man, though he seemed harmless could pose a problem to him getting them out of there as fast as possible. The approaching figure walked with a limp and was probably about fifteen years older than Hotch. When he stopped he could feel y/n stop too, bumping into him slightly. He could feel her eyes lift past his shoulder where y/n’s hand was resting and the change in demeanor was so drastic that he could feel it. The coldness and stiffness radiating off y/n signaled her discomfort along with her harsh grip on his body. Instinctually he moved in front of y/n. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. Hotch’s protective stance didn’t stop the man from walking about a foot from them and saying in a weak voice, “y/n. Is that you? It’s hard to believe it’s you. I haven’t seen you in years.” The man spoke like Aaron wasn’t even there, and there was an awkward pause when y/n should have responded back in some way but didn’t. That didn’t stop the man from continuing like nothing odd was happening here and saying, “I heard about your mother, y/n. I’m sorry… I just wanted to come over here and let you know.” y/n’s grip tightened on his shoulder even more but he didn’t grimace, and when y/n replied in a voice so void that he wouldn’t believe she was there if she wasn’t holding him so tight, “I’m sure you are,” Aaron knew something terrible had happened between them. No one sounded like y/n without it, whatever it was, it was bad. 

That was when the flip switched on in Hotch and he moved in front of y/n totally blocking her from view. If looks could kill the man in front of Hotch would have been found in cardiac arrest so bad that it seemed medically impossible. Aaron didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to as the man finally noticed his presence and almost wilted on site. The man opened his mouth and extended his hand out a millimeter but then just as quickly shut his chapped lips and turned on his heel moving as fast as she could without it looking like an outright sprint toward another building further in the neighborhood. 

Once the man was out of sight, Aaron moved y/n to his car and opened the door for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and was back to her early state in the BAU. When she would lose all affect. Hotch helped buckle her in and then got in on the driver’s side. He started the car and turned on the AC, it had gotten surprisingly warm and Hotch felt flushed and he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something else. The pair didn’t talk during the ten-minute drive to y/n’s hotel. However, Hotch looked over at y/n every now and then to make sure she was still with him. It felt like if he didn’t stay tuned in on her she might slip away to a place he’d never be able to find her again. At the hotel, Hotch asked y/n what her room number was and she said, “251” and handed over her key fob. Hotch took it in his hand and led y/n inside and up to her room. If a stranger walked past them they might think something sketchy was going down. y/n looked drugged from her state and Aaron was like someone taking advantage of that opportunity. But there was no one there to see them, and for that, Hotch was grateful. 

y/n slumped into bed and Hotch sat down on the edge of the mattress. He knew that he needed to give y/n space. To let her rest and recover herself from what must have been a terrible day even though it had only been an hour that he’d been with her. He’d ask her if she’d like him to leave or stay, but first, he asked, “y/n, who was that guy?” For the first time since they’d gotten to the hotel room, y/n looked at Aaron and said in a whisper, “Don’t make me say it, Aaron. Please…” Hotch needed and put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He didn’t need to know. Inside he knew, and he realized in that moment he wasn’t leaving y/n alone. Not ever; she’d been alone for too long and he’d help her change that if she wanted that. 

It wasn’t until a few months later, when the air had cleared and the skies stopped looking perpetually gray that y/n told Aaron what he had asked months ago. This was after they had been dating for a while. He knew almost everything about her now. He had found out the main source of her shame and after that there had been little to hide from him, thus beginning a relationship had been natural. She had asked him many times why he came that day and his answers varied, but the theme was consistent. “I was worried about you. I had a bad feeling. I just needed to be there,” and whatever other motivation Hotch might have had conscious or not y/n didn’t question them. He’d come when she had needed someone and now as they were laying next to each other, in their pajamas and a sheet over them she’d tell him the rest. 

y/n rolled on her side and ran her hand down Aaron’s sharp jawline. His stubble was slightly growing out, and she knew he’d shave it later that day. His dark eyes found hers and a hint of a smile on his face. y/n said, “Hotch, you once asked about that guy, in my mom’s neighborhood. Do you still want to know?” Hotch’s eyelids closed slightly. He was thinking through this offer. It wouldn’t change anything about how he thought about y/n. He had the utmost respect for y/n and how she had handled her life after all the terrible situations she’d lived through. And this would be no different. He knew he’d respect y/n for how she’d acted in whatever situation she had been put in, but his response wouldn’t change. Because of that he honestly replied, “y/n, if it would bring you peace and make you feel better then I’d like you to tell me. If it would make you feel bad or change anything then I don’t need to know. I’d like to know, but there are parts of ourselves that can stay hidden if it’s for the best. I trust you to know what’s best.” 

y/n had a feeling this would be the response from Aaron. He always was so considerate of her and her past. She knew that even though Hotch said he wouldn’t look at her differently, there was the nagging feeling in her mind, that was always in her mind, that the truth would push whoever she was with away. And even if it was slightly selfish, y/n loved Aaron so much that if she had to lose him, then she’d rather be the one to cut the cord sooner rather than latery/n let out a deep breath and said, “I’d like to tell you.” y/n paused before adding, “I’ve never told this to anyone before, so if I get confused or it sounds weird, I’m sorry.” Hotch nodded with understanding. He placed his hand on y/n’s arm and looked at her with encouragement. 

y/n got that far-away look in her eyes as she did when she thought about the far-away past. However, he could tell that she wasn’t fully immersed in the memories as her thumb glided over his knuckles. Aaron wondered if it was too painful to fully go back there, but either way, he was ready to listen. y/n took a shallow breath and said, “My mom’s… problems… have always been there. She used to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. I got that, or I tried to, but even if the hoarding wasn’t about me, it still affected me. It still made me smell funny and made it hard to do homework, or hard to eat any normal meals. When I was very young I just assumed everyone lived like we did because we were pretty isolated.” There was a break as y/n bit the inside of her lip as she decided how to continue. When she had her timeline as clear as her mind would allow, she continued her story: “When I got old enough to go to school I had a real wake-up call and I figured out that what I was living wasn’t ‘normal’ as I had believed. This meant that I got out more often, which I was glad about and I joined as many clubs and sports as possible to stay away from home. But I was like, eleven, so there weren’t a ton of options and we were poor, but I did what I could.

This was a blessing and a curse because I made some friends, but I never told anyone about what it was like at home. It was too embarrassing for me. My absence and meeting new people gave my mom time alone to buy more stuff without me around and it gave her a chance to meet some new people too. You know my soccer coach, or drama friends mom’s and dad’s.” Aaron nodded. y/n was slowing down, which he sensed meant that the story was going to get harder to tell from then. y/n swallowed and continued, “Mom started bringing guys around, drinking and stuff, but none of them would stay once they saw what her place was like, and I don’t blame them. Then one day one of your neighbors, that man that talked to me when you were at my mom’s house was over. I found them together more and more at home, so I thought they had a thing. I was surprised that he stuck around. Rumors fly in that type of environment. One day when the house was really really bad he told me I could spend some time with him at his place if I wanted somewhere clean to study.” Hotch’s brows pulled together. He’d heard these stories time and time again and the pit in his stomach balled into a knot. 

“I thought he was being nice, at first. It was nice for a while, but he, you know, he made me pay him back for his kindness. Aaron pulled y/n into a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” There was a tense pause before Hotch asked, “Did you ever tell your mom?” y/n tensed and he knew this was the point that was tormenting her. Not that any of what she had said before wasn’t incredibly inhuman and cruel, but there were strong feelings attached to what was coming next. y/n was silent as she nodded her head yes. She sobbed into his chest and rasped out, “I did tell her after it got bad. She… she didn’t believe me. She didn’t want to believe me, because that man was someone who was willing to live and sleep with her delusions. I was the price of that relationship.” Hotch nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” over and over again like a lullaby. After y/n had soothed slightly, she said, “I never told anyone else, Aaron. I let it fester, and I was scared. But… what if he hurt other people after me? Other kids? I can’t live with that. This job, our job, I thought it would make my guilt feel better, but no matter how hard I try it doesn’t go away.” 

Aaron pulled up a bit and wiped away y/n’s tear-stained face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and so sad. Hotch shook his head and said, “y/n, you were a child. So many people failed you. I imagine you were clinging to what you knew. The only thing you knew. No one can blame you for that, and if they do, that’s on them. I am so sorry that no one was there to protect you then. I’m here now, no one, no one will ever hurt you like that again, and if you want to talk more about this, I’m ready to hear you. If you want comfort, I’m here. If you want to speak to someone, a therapist, or a lawyer, I’m here. I’m here,” Hotch echoed again making sure she knew that she’d never be put in that place again. As long as he was alive, it would never happen again. y/n relaxed against him. She felt so much lighter having said everything. She knew Aaron, and she knew he was speaking the truth - he was there for her and he would be as long as she wanted him to be. Aaron, despite his flaws, was committed, and he didn’t give up on things. y/n rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating under her palm, steady like he was, and for the first time in over a decade, she had nothing to hide from someone she cared for. 

Hotch was sure to be careful with this new information y/n had shared with him. He had an even keel and he kept his promises. He had even more respect for y/n than before, and he treated her the same with that new knowledge. He knew that if he made a big deal of y/n’s situation that was not what she wanted. Like all things with their relationship, they took time with each other, letting what needed to happen do so in due time. However, even though Hotch could treat y/n with the same love, the knowledge of the man’s actions who had harmed her so severely ate at him. Not only that, but that he had seen him. That the man who had tormented someone so young and innocent was still walking around free of repercussions started a small seed of darkness in his spirit. 

Aaron normally didn’t let cases get to him, but whenever there were children involved he could only imagine Jack and now a young version of y/n in the same situation. Sometimes he dreamed of the man he’d seen in the trailer park. Dreamed of him dying in various ways. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew he couldn’t let him affect him this much, but there was no stopping the hatred that was growing in his heart. After a while, Hotch had researched the man and found out where he worked, and his criminal record. It was no shock that he had a long list of pretty crimes one of assault and battery. Aaron was always shocked by the freedom of information. It took him two days to find all of this out. He realized he was privileged as an agent, it was his job to find information about people, but even so, the surveillance state seemed to be getting worse every day and no one even noticed it. He pushed that thought aside as he glared at the address on the online yellow pages. He closed the private tab and sighed, making a not to delete all of these accounts once he got home and to call Jack and see how he was doing. 

After a few months of dreams about the man and y/n  that seemed to intensify in violence, Hotch knew that he couldn’t outrun this feeling of anger. It ran in his family, and he could normally control it, but this situation dealt with someone who was as close to himself as anyone had been, so forgiving and forgetting was not an option. Plus, the pervert who had hurt y/n didn’t deserve to be forgiven. He deserved what was coming to him. Aaron knew he couldn’t risk doing something like Elle had, even if that too was justified. He had far too many people relying on him, but he knew this anger wasn’t helping him, so with careful thought and research, he made a plan. Yes, couldn’t be a Batman-type vigilante doling out justice, but he sure as hell could instill fear into the hearts of weak, hurtful, and manipulative men, and that was what he was planning to do. 

He waited until the team was on break and y/n was going to see a good childhood friend. He knew she’d be so wrapped up in spreading her warmth with those around her that she’d not fully notice if he wasn’t as responsive as usual. This plan was only going to take two days according to his carefully crafted agenda. With the team on leave, he’d also be safe from a case calling him away and the other BAU members wondered why he was near the edge of the state and not at his apartment which was a forty-minute drive to Quantico. 

It was early when Aaron caught his 4:45 AM flight. He didn’t need to, he could drive to the trailer park easily, but he didn’t want to leave a clear trail behind his actions. He rested during the flight and knew that once his task was done, he’d be able to let this go and be fully present for y/n. To return the care she always gave him. He felt that he couldn’t love her unless he let this hatred go. The flight was short, less than an hour, and it landed in a small dinky airport on the edge of Virginia. He then rented a car from the airport and paid in cash. As the sun was fully lighting the sky, Hotch pulled up to the work site where the man he was after was sitting in an air-conditioned office, making sure workers didn’t get hurt on the job. When Aaron found out that that was what the man did, he could only cringe at the irony of someone like that keeping grown men safe but having such neglect for children. 

Hotch turned off the car and sat for a moment, tapping his hand on the wheel for a second. He was wearing work clothes, some he’d picked up at Goodwill two days ago. As he stepped out of the truck, he fit right in with the other men coming on the job. It was bound to be a hot day from the sun and lack of clouds. Hotch didn’t look at anyone as he walked toward the portable set of offices on the construction site. He stepped up the wooden stairs and entered the door on the left side. The man he was looking for sat in an uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, drinking a bitter cup of coffee. The man looked up at Aaron and eyed him over. Clearly thinking he was looking for a job, the man said, “HR is the door over. You’re lucky, we fired some guys yesterday.” Hotch clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything. The silence intensified and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and said, “Can I help you with something?” Hotch let out a breath and locked the door of the office from the inside, trapping the man in with him. The man fidgeted in his chair, not expecting this kind of reaction and not having a clue what to do. 

Once Aaron was standing in front of the man’s desk he said, “There is something you can do for me. And you will do it, or you’ll regret the rest of your sorry life.” The man in the chair swallowed thickly and stuttered, “M-man what’s this about? Do I know you?” A tiny flash of understanding moved over his face but it went away as the fear returned. Given his response, the man clearly had more than one enemy, and perhaps this wasn’t the first time this kind of conversation had happened before. Aaron didn’t take the long road as he said, “If I so much as see you, or know that you’re around a child, ever, you’ll be in the ground before you can reach for your phone and try and call the cops.” A look of horror splashed the man like water and he took a bit too long to reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any kids man.” 

Aaron let out a breath and replied, “I don’t believe you. The way you’re biting the inside of your mouth right now tells me you’re lying. Also, the sex offender registry says otherwise. If you’re going to blatantly lie to me, at least be right.” Another minute of silence elapsed and Hotch continued, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. So I’m going to say it once more. If I ever see your face near a kid, or in a paper, or near someone I care about I will end you, and you’ll regret every choice you ever make. If you think you can get away with doing something you’re wrong. Every time you pass a school, every time you sit in a pew, or at a restaurant you’d better be watching your back because I will be there somehow someway.” 

Hotch slammed his hands on the cheap wooden table, shaking it and the trailer as the man flinched away. The man closed his eyes, expecting to be hit, but by the time he opened his eyes, the large man who had threatened his life was walking out the door. 

Back in the car, Aaron pulled out, the man wouldn’t call the police, if he did, his criminal record who be brought up again, and questions would be asked. Questions the man couldn’t afford to answer. Hotch took his time driving back. He made a one-night stay at a hotel and saw a one-man play of Marx in Soho. He enjoyed the performance, but it was more of a cover-up than anything else. The team would ask him what he’d done while off and he’d have something to tell them for once. The next afternoon, he checked out of his hotel and drove back to the city. He arrived at the rental return lot in the evening, dropped off the car, and then got back into his own. As he entered the driver's seat, he felt the need to be with y/n. To have her presence relax him and to know that he’d done the right thing. He texted her to ask if she was back yet. As he started the car, he got a text from y/n saying, “Aaron, yeah I’m back. I got home this afternoon. I was just going to sleep early, I just got out of the shower. If you want to come a spend the night I’d love to have you here.” Hotch’s heart warmed at her response and he quickly texted back that he’d be over in a few minutes. 

When Aaron got to y/n’s apartment he parked in a visitor spot and grabbed his keys. He let himself in with his spare and closed the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. There was only the small stove light and lamp on in the kitchen and front room. Hotch looked into the clean space and called out, “Honey, I’m here. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” The soft reply from the bedroom was a simple, “Yes, please.” Hotch smiled and switched off the lights and then moved down the wooden hallway and into y/n’s room. 

y/n was just crawling into bed in her favorite night shirt when her bedroom door opened. She beamed at Aaron. Seeing him always made her feel safe, and even though she was tired, she was so happy for him to be here. “Are you staying tonight, or just stopping by to say hi?” Aaron looked around the room, feeling better being here already. Once he started slipping off his shoes and undoing the buttons on his shirt, y/n relaxed more into the bed now that she knew he was staying. When he was just in his briefs, Hotch dipped into bed and turned off the main light in the room. Under the covers he snuggled y/n from behind, breathing in her scent of moisturizer and shampoo. He stayed like that for a little while as they both got comfortable. y/n hummed her approval and whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not up for more tonight. Thanks for coming. How was your break?” Aaron kissed the nape of her neck and replied equally softly, “It was good. I saw a play you’d like yesterday. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” Aaron could feel y/n smile in front of him as she said, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the man of culture. I can’t wait, love.” 

y/n was as tired as she sounded as she fell asleep a few minutes later. Hotch brushed her hair lightly and held her a little more tightly as he relaxed for the first time since y/n had told him the extent of what had happened to her. He couldn’t save everyone, sometimes it was too late, but this once, this once he was going to be there for someone. He was going to keep being there. As he drifted off, he was able to sleep and not have any dreams at all.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

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[aegagrusscholarship]

every terminal i've offhandedly referenced in oc lore on discord with my friends. because i am normal.

random facts below the cut:

jerry: one of a few terminals originally put down in hell by a private company (hi @frostaxolotl it's the guys who did project obsidian). kept records and eventually uploaded them onto the network at large. located in a cave in wrath. pronouns whatever he doesn't care

sal: mad scientist type beat. helped another terminal develop a way to upload itself into another machine on the condition that they could do whatever with the result once the other terminal was done. uses said code to shove viruses onto machines that hook up to them for cybergrinding, just to see what happens. really really really likes fish. has a salmon with legs shimeiji on their screen at all times. someone dumped a labcoat on them once and it hasn't been moved since. located in an industrial building in one of the warzones of violence. they/it

69: pirated a lot of media for the terminal network back when they'd been abandoned by humanity, but humanity was still, y'know, alive. and the internet was therefore still online. refuses to let anyone repair her for whatever reason. located in the mouth of hell. she/her

TT: one of the terminals that kept the hell network's internet gateway up and running. eventually paid a random passing machine in points to paint her. okay look she's just rose homestuck except ultrakill edition. located in/near a cathedral of limbo. she/her

cloud: it's a joke on cloud storage and that is all you need to know. organizes and files all the data/files that have been shared to the terminal network as a whole. also archives any data that other terminals do not want to host on themselves anymore, so a lot of its memory is dedicated to random reports that no one actually cares about. located on one of the boardwalks in wrath, close by to a cabin. it/he/they

duck: one of the terminals behind getting the hell network internet access. too far away from the surface physically to do it himself though, so he just sends programs and theory to terminals who can actually get reception. almost always has ascii art on his screen instead of the tip of the day. located near the bottom of limbo, in a carpeted hall of a cathedral. she/he

miku: yes they're named after that miku. likes vocaloid (duh). particularly lonely and is more likely to strike up a conversation with passing machines than they are to actually do any terminal functions. located in a building in lust that should be an insanely high-traffic zone, but everyone and their mother realizes that and so most machines actually avoid it to minimize risk. this, paradoxically, makes said building one of the least-visited areas, which also means that miku has very little interaction ever. they/she

irukandji: judgy asshole who insulted the terminal mentioned above (the one that decided to download itself into another machine to explore hell on its own). thanks @salt216000 located in gluttony somewhere fleshy, hence all the blood. nameself pronouns ++ it/its

[etheries1015]

Sorry, I overread it (It's currently 10pm where I live, I've been up since 4am, and my anxiety is kicking. Requesting things from people I never requested before is hard >.<)

May I request Riddle, Kalim, Idia and Malleus reacting to finding out their crush is trans-masc? Either by reader telling them or them finding out by accident

Never apologize for asking questions and sending asks! Please take care of yourself, get lots of rest, water, and sustenance <3

Finding out you're trans-masc

Featuring: Riddle, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

WARNINGS (please read): I'm a cis woman and I CANNOT stress enough that I may not be able to portray this as well as someone who actually identifies as such! I did do research ahead of time to make sure I try my very best to capture the essence of someone who identifies as trans-masc, but everyone's experiences are different. If I, in ANY way shape, or form, used incorrect terminology/representation or mistakenly offended anyone, please educate me so that I become more knowledgeable and can build my understanding. Other than that, I hope I did well in writing this for you to enjoy <3 Thank you for your time and for the request <3

Riddle

The topic came up during the first time you had gone to an Unbirthday party. Being misgendered by Riddle, you spoke up gently to inform him of your disposition.

"I'm...well, I don't use She/her pronouns." You shrugged. Riddle pursed his lips in frustration at his own confusion, he hadn't met someone falling under the LGBTQ umbrella before, he was incredibly sheltered and closed-minded for a long time due to his mother's teachings.

"I see..." Riddle nodded, "Then, please explain it to me so that I may not make the same mistake twice." He was eager to learn more about people and their experiences, especially learning about someone he found himself becoming more and more attached to.

Spends an entire night reading upon such topics- he was very quick to adapt and correct people around you whenever he found they did not address you properly.

"Does it bother you?" You had asked him once out of pure curiosity, and his response was with furrowed eyebrows and confusion.

"And why should it? It does not matter what you identify as. You are still (y/n). You are not your gender, and not your sex. You are..." He blushed deeply, you smiling to urge him on. You knew about his crush on you, of course, yet he seemed to be far too shy to admit it yet.

"You're..." He hesitated, "failing this class. G-get back to studying! quit getting distracted with silly questions or it's off with your head!"

You loved seeing him open his mind to many different concepts and treat you no differently than anyone else (minus some favoritism, hehe <3)

Kalim

It was actually Jamil who brought it up in conversation. The topic of "LGBTQ" came up, of course, Kalim understood the basics of people who identified as gay, however when the term "trans-masc" came up in regards to you, he was incredibly eager to learn more.

"Trans-masc? I thought they were (y/n)?"

"Kalim- no-"

It didn't take long for him to easily come around to the new terminology. You maybe gave him a 10 minute crash course before he accepted it face value.

"I see...so one day you're going to be by my side not as a queen, but as my royal spouse!" You were flabbergasted at his brazen comment. With a red face, you hadn't time to react before his hands were already around you in a deep hug.

"Haha! Oh, right! The pop club has a new song, wanna listen to it?"

He loves you no matter what. The most understanding and unconditionally in love person to exist, the definition of sunshine

Might overshare sometimes. He will bring it up sometimes to other people (if they misgender you) and give THEM a crash course on it! You love that he is so passionate about you, though. xoxo

Idia

He knew. He is chronically online, he knows all about it. When he first met you, he even asked what your preferred pronouns were.

I don't really know what else to say for Idia, he honestly doesn't care who you identify as. You play video games with him and give him love, that's enough for him!!

Can take it incredibly seriously If someone misgenders you or tries to bully you about your identity, his hair turns a fiery red and he turns gives them a whole one hour lesson while belittling that person calling them as intelligent as a soggy piece of bread.

The other person is crying by the end of it, but honestly nobody deserves to be treated disrespectfully like that.

actually how he confessed his crush to you, lol. In a fit of rage to someone who wasn't being very kind... "How dare you treat the one I love like that, you stupid normie piece of-" Realizes his mistake, face turns red, turns to you (whos face is also red)

"ummm.....Nevermind!" He runs away, but there was no getting away from you heuheu

even though he can be shy and kind of tsundere in public, he can be really passionate and will defend you at a moments notice and educate other people who are, as he puts, less than him.

In private? Sitting in his lap playing video games

Malleus

Actually, learned this from Idia. It was during class when the topic of LGBTQ came up, and when speaking among the students he over heard Idia telling ortho about your disposition as trans-masc.

Immediately came to you

"Child of man, what is 'trans-masc' and why did Idia use this term to describe you? Could you elaborate?" You two decided to take a stroll around the forest where you spent hours talking about all sorts of different people and the terms they used, explaining to him about dysphoria and how you discovered that the pronouns you were born with just didn't sit right with you.

Nods in understanding, but ends up purchasing a bunch of books Idia and Lilia recommended to him to increase his understanding.

Even though there are indeed things he will never be able to sympathize with properly and understand, such as the effects of dysphoria, but he will respect you full heartedly and not treat you any different despite still growing to learn about such topics.

All in all, it does not matter what you identify as. He finds himself completely enamored with you, loving how you teach him new things about anything and everything with humans- he will treat you the same as you treat him- impartial due to status, class, gender, pronouns, human or fae. He knew you were the one he wanted to rule Briar Valley next to one day- as his lovely spouse.

~~

I hope I was able to answer your request satisfyingly <3 Please let me know if anything needs to be changed and I shall update accordingly, I myself am always learning and growing every day! Please be kind <3

[josnhoes]

I would love to see if reader had a crush on someone, like she was madly in love and yandere Jason Todd, Yandere Damian Wayne, and Yandere Tim Drake found out. (Maybe yandere dicks reaction as an extra)

I'm going to assume this is in the young adult reader verse. So platonic (though since you said she I will use fem pronouns), if you wish for a romantic yandere separate from that verse let me know.

Note to readers this is a side story to the young adult reader story. It is not directly canon due to the use of gender.

Warning: Fem reader, yandere, murder mentions, obsession, over protective,

Jason knew his Sparky had a lot of love to give, and he figured eventually you'd end up in love. Granted, he'd figured since you never were outside of the manor without someone at your side that you wouldn't get a chance to. Oh boy, was he wrong.

The person in question was some rich kid who attended almost every gala or party due to their parent's part in the various charities Bruce ran. He knew because he'd tried to get Bruce to stop inviting them just so this blooming romance would fade. Yes, he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't agree to *you* being the one involved in romance. You were too young and naive.

Since he couldn't get them uninvited and his siblings were failing as your guards and keepers, it looked like he'd have to step in. Jason had learned that despite Bruce's moral high ground of no murder that whenever the Wayne princess was involved murder was sanctioned. It was the only exception Bruce made. Usually he'd be pissed someone was more worthy of being killed for by Bruce, hadn't Jason been worthy of vengeance? But his baby sister was someone he saw as worth killing for too so Bruce got a pass...this time.

If he were a more patient man, he'd have dragged Tim in on this; but he wanted this budding romance gone. So he took care of it. You'd mourn, probably have a few breakdowns, but you didn't need to know it was him. Gotham *was* dangerous. After all, it could have been anyone who shot them.

Damian was somehow the most protective of the brothers; which said a lot since the entire family was willing to kill for you. But Damian was the one willing to torture for you. But for his devotion, he expected you to give him attention. Ideally, he'd be the focus of your attention, but he realized he had to share with his family.

That being said, anyone outside of the family he absolutely refused to let you give them even an ounce of your attention. Exceptions were people like doctors or therapists. As your brother, he wanted you to be healthy after all. Still when your attention wavered from the family to some budding socialite from the Galas he was enraged.

Not at you, he realized as a human on so sheltered his darling sister would naturally crave bonds with others. Romantic ones were inevitable; and maybe some day when you were older and it was someone he could approve of he would have let it continue. This was not that. This was an unknown; one who would put you in more danger.

He debated what to do about this problem. Clearly he had to keep you both apart. Tripling his hovering in galas and the rare occasions you left the manor. But that wasn't enough for him. Damian knew a proper threat and maybe some light torture would scare them away from you, the only question was did he do it in his old league uniform or as Robin.

The league of shadows garb would ensure the continued positive image of the vigilantes, but the Robin costume would make people second guess the socialite and their sanity. Well he'd hoped so, then again he *was* known as the stabby Robin. League gear it was.

No matter your feelings for this person, Damian knew you'd get over them. You had him. You didn't truly need anyone else.

Tim was all for giving you online freedom. Or an illusion of it anyway. Everything you did was monitored, and any attempt to lash out and try and call for help was prevented by your device's new program. But you hadn't even tried that in months; he'd figured you'd finally stopped trying to rebel, but that wouldn't gain you any extra freedom.

Your emotional attachment to the new person was worrisome. The socialite had approached you and charmed you at an event when Dick was supposed to be watching you. From there, a small romance began budding online. A fact that was loathed by Tim. As your big brother he had to protect your honor.

He was saving physical retaliation for a last ditch option. Instead, he'd planned a mind game. Hacked phones and social media leaking the socialite's secrets. Bank accounts being flagged. Even forging a few criminal charges. Every bit of their life was going to suffer.

Some would say that was more cruel than simply physically handling them, but Tim knew those kind of things were far longer lasting. You would see the worst in them, and if that didn't keep you apart, then the way their life would burn would keep them too busy for you.

If all of that failed, Tim had no problem making them disappear.

[system-of-a-feather]

Full Integration, Final Fusion, Functional Multiplicitly, and General "Spirituality"

(Disclaimer: this is a very long post)

Heyyo, this is a bit of a hodgepodge of connected topics that I was thinking on this morning. For those that don't know, after like three months of being a really solid fused whole, we really decided that we needed to redivide back into our core parts to recenter, rebalance, and reorganize ourselves since our fused whole was loosing sight / vision of the "plot". We don't consider this "splitting" because we are still in - what we like to call "full integration" - and we don't really engage in much dissociation when we do this as the means of how we do this largely stems from the way we perceive, engage with, and view the concept of "self" and "identity." Our system highly values the mastery and art of a very fluid and ever changing sense of identity and self. This morning - thank you Chunn brain for batting our collective brain from the usual urge to get out of bed and get started with our day to give us time to really sit with our inner selves - we spent about an hour and a half and a small half hour nap just laying there thinking among ourselves and I wanted to share a few.

I think at the moment I am still mostly a fused whole and I had considered trying to go to Ray or Lin for them to write this, but it didn't feel right to go to Ray brain and Lin brain directly told me "Dude, this thought line started with Riku-dominant fused brain, trying to have someone else write it would be a disservice to the reflection. Let Riku or Riku-dominant fused brain do it, it's their thought." and you know, fair point. I think I'll use this post as a temporary "bye few thoughts" and love letter to our parts as a fused whole before leaving it to the individual specialists to do their things.

So introduction to this post aside, hello and temporary soon to be farewell before I choose to temporarily redivide into my main parts. Today is May 15, 2024 and I'm gonna document this a bit for when I come back whenever that is and kind of see if my fused-whole perspective and nature changes - mostly for myself. Online I go by Feathers, irl I just go by our chosen name.

I'm a (mostly, technically non-denominational independent, but most of my views and perspectives come from and align closely with) Zen Buddhist. I'm nonbinary vaguely transmasc (not really though?) intersex individual with the pronouns of they/them. I am extremely pro-endo and if I honestly felt like sticking around longer, I was thinking about writing a much more nuanced essay on tulpa-terminology discourse with my current reflections as a fused whole and as a pretty avid Buddhist but, unforunately, unless one of my parts still shares the same insight AND interest, that essay will have to wait for me to potentially be back (hey, Riku or Chunn might still want to who knows). I dunno what else to say, I love bird, Bleach, walking, driving, listening to music, video games, writing, art? I dunno man, I'm just me.

Documentation aside anyways, I gotta figure out where I want to start. I think I will actually piss my high-school English teachers off and start with the LAST thing in the title card. I might loose a lot of close minded white anti-endos here, but hey, if you are that close minded, then its your loss cause I'm just talking about late-stage recovery as a person with diagnosed DID that is considered polyfragmented. It's a fun conversation to have with other people with DID aiming for recovery so, if you're hell bent on hating people talking about plurality form a non-DID lens enough to disregard cool information, that's your loss. (Thank you XIV brain, crediting that to you for part of our goal today)

Buddhism, Spirituality, Plurality and Our Perspective of Full Integration

According to Buddhism, and one of the largest concepts and principles of Buddhism that we believe the most in and actively work to practice and cultivate the mindset of - is that the concept of "I" and the concept of a singular, distinct, and separate self from the world and others simply does not exist - only the experience and illusion of experience exists. I was talking about it with @quoigenicfromhell in DMs since they were interested in talking shop about Buddhism.

To save myself a whole effort of rewriting a discussion on how one can hold together the clear sensation of existing and being an individual with the idea and Buddhist understanding that the "self" does not exist, I'm going to copy a little bit of what I wrote in response to them. If it doesn't make sense cause its in a bit of Buddhist jargon, then oh well, I'm lazy, it's written for an audience that has done some reading and looking into Buddhist thought so RIP yall srry not srry (Thank you Chunn brain lol)

Honestly the development and understanding of holding those two things together (the non-self and non-existence with the clear experience of self and existence) is largely a lot of exploration on the understanding and respect for the experience without applying too much value or regard to said experience. Its kind of a hard thing to understand just based off of words alone and like all things Buddhism, its one of those sorts of things you really gotta sit on and explore in your own mental space, but like

The experience of self and personhood and existence is a denied concept in Buddhist thought, but its not a bad or incorrect thing, the experience of self and existence is kind of considered an inherent expression of life and the world and while its important to be cognicent that it is an illusion that can cause suffering and muddy an individuals ability to see Things As They Are, the experience and illusion of self is additionally an entirely natural thing to experience and is an important part of being able to, well, be

I kinda of personally perceive it kind of similarly to say a part in a system. Innately the part is not (at least in my experiences of systemhood) a literal entire separate being and thats an important thing to acknowledge for a number of reasons (life organization and direction, system accountability, etc) but its would also be incredibly foolish to completely ignore that the part operates, experiences themselves, and lives in the world (both inner and outer) as if they were an individual of their own

In the same sense that a part in a system can be seen both as an individual and a part of a whole / collective depending on what perspective and demands the moment needs. An individual can be seen both as the individual expression of a self informed by the arguably incorrect illusion of isolation OR as a part of the whole worlds expression depending on what serves the moment the best. I largely kind of see myself as part of a system that is the world much like I see my parts as part of a system that is "me". While the self may be an illusion, its not an experience that can be denied and it is an innate expression that in its own right can prove to be a great teacher So you deny the concept of a self but respect and revere the experience and innate natural expression of self

With that context in mind, while we do not believe in the concept of self and find that trying to seek out a concrete idea of a singular person and singular self in society is a source of extreme suffering, stress, and displeasure, we DEEPLY revere and honor the expression of self. As we see it, in a complete ideal and impossible the world would be in perfect harmony if we let the world express itself as it naturally does. We find that the experiences of self - in whatever form they take - are inherent and natural expressions of the world as a whole and to try to shape oneself to fit a specific image - may that be societally imposed or internally / personally imposed or a sense of envy or any sort of clinging or desire to a specific version / image of self - is a disrespect to the innate beauty found in the natural expression and a means of adding disharmony into the world.

As a result, our system and whole aims deeply, above almost all else to exist simply as we naturally would in any moment time to time. If we find that something we are doing with our sense of self is drawn and influenced too much on a "I should" or "I want" or "I wish" or "I hope" then we tend to pause, self reflect, and ask if we are actually existing in our natural state, or are we trying to fight against our natural state of self to fit into a self-imposed idea of what we "should be".

As a result of that, our system deeply values our flexibility, fluidity, and ability to change any aspect of ourselves, any opinion we hold, any identity label we consider, and our overall presentation in all ways and forms to a very high level. The desire to be consistent and predictable serves us little in simply practicing on "being" and finding the true and simply-run life that we want. That then results in why our system so casually flips around in system size, fusions, redivisions, how we refer to ourselves, etc. We find very little value in committing to labels and concepts and do whatever is natural for us.

Additionally, another large aspect of Buddhism our system deeply reveres and appreciates is the acknowledgement that there are "Buddhas" - or in less Jargon terms, potential for everything both internal and external to be teachers and guides into finding a sense of peace and simplicity in the world - and that it is deeply important to cultivating peace, happiness, and insight to actively always be seeking out the "Buddha" in everything and everyone. It's important to reflect, engage with, and talk with those "Buddhas" as they are the best and number one way to gain the insight that brings happiness and peace into life and removes excessive suffering and stress.

As many Buddhists agree (at least of the Mahayanan branches), everyone is inherently a Buddha because the world and everything is a Buddha. The only issue people have is that they can not connect, hear, and see clearly enough to be in that state due to a large number of human conditions - one large one being the aforementioned illusion of self.

Having lived my life as someone with DID and having gone through a lot of trauma therapy, self reflection, communication and coordination with my parts, and all that to the point we have reached functional multiplicity over a year plus ago and been able to hold a fully fused state for over three months, I feel like its a given to say that of ALL things in the world, the "Buddha nature" of my parts have been the best and most insightful teachers I've ever had. We revere each other's strengths and specialties greatly as each of us have taught the other great strengths, great understandings, great insights, and great appreciations that have collectively brought us so much peace and happiness. It's not to say any part is "enlightened" because each part is also deeply flawed and struggling in their own realms, but it is largely by working and talking and supporting one another and ACTIVELY looking to one another for insight and lessons about the world and our existence that we are able to reach a uniquely peaceful space.

For us, its an incredibly important practice - both for self care and in the art / spirituality of Buddhism - to regularly talk and engage with these specialized and uniquely-wise (and uniquely stupid - thank you XIV) parts of ourselves to gain deeper insight and overall understanding of ourselves and our place in the world.

In the same sense, it is why - despite being completely capable of operating as a fully fused whole - we regularly choose to INTENTIONALLY redivide into our parts. And no, its not us "splitting again" or even really throwing up any real level of dissociation / dissociative barriers. If anything, we usually do this through meditation and mindfulness.

It's a Buddhist practice, its not a mental disorder and its not stemming from the same mechanism's DID stems from. It might operate *based* on the foundation our history with DID stems from, but at this point in our healing, the way our system operates at functional multiplicity that is intentionally chosen to be that way AFTER reaching "final fusion" has a number of differences from how it operated before we reached general full integration.

Again, for those more familiar with the tulpa-terminology discussion, you might be able to see where I would have a long post delving into a highly nuanced and more middle-ground perspective of that syscourse from the paragraph above this one, but I'm gonna leave that cause I already know this post is long and it would detract from the purpose.

At this point, my system is mostly an "intentionally created one" to Western label standards. We personally do not see any significance or binary in plural VS singular people beyond it being a label some people identify with and not. Plural VS Singular is a false binary perpetuated in white, western, and european society and while I respect that perspective and view in a space that is primarily filled with white, western, and/or european individuals, I am going to firmly state that and expect you to give me that same respect. (and if you refuse to give me that same respect, then you are close minded and being very white / western lmao <- thank you XIV, again)

And so the other related but slightly different topic away from the more philosophical, esoteric, mysticism sounding topic of Buddhism...

Full Integration, Final Fusion, and Functional Multiplicitly

At this point, what we used to call "Wishiwashi Recovery" we kind of have taken to just calling "full integration" generally as a means of really breaking apart the suggested categorical and boxed binary of "final fusion" and "functional multiplicity" as our own experience and discussion with other systems at and near full integration have made us realize that the difference between functional multiplicity and final fusion is FAR more a spectrum than it is two seperate categories. Some systems stick to one end, some to the others, but the largest difference is in external and internal expression of the parts and less any fundamental or biological / clinical difference; at least not in terms of integration. (Note: Integration =/= Fusion; Integration is the general connectivity and accessibility of parts with less / limited / no dissociation)

It's a false binary to say Final Fusion or Functional Multiplicity and its why a lot of the "ones bad and ones good" syscourse is dumb. They're two heads of the same Doduo and they should be kissing. (JOKING, thank you Riku-Aya brain)

With that said, our system, as we've made clear, regularly and freely practices sliding and flying all over that spectrum as just how we like to engage with ourselves. We change between the two as we see fit and having spent probably like 9~ months in functional multiplicity and 3~ months in final fusion I wanted to share some pros and cons of both sides.

I would also like to put a disclaimer that this isn't meant to be "positives and why this side sucks" as much as it is the differences in life style according to our opinion and our experience. Both final fusion and functional multiplicity are absolutely WONDERFUL things overall and we love both states. If we got "stuck" in either, we would still be immensely happy. The purpose of this part is just to share certain differences in how we experience the two different ends. The Cons in these case are only "cons" relative to the "alternative" and not "to not ever reaching either"

Functional Multiplicity Pros:

A lot more clear and direct communication between parts internally that allows for a SHIT ton of internal banter, productive conversation about complex topic and perspectives from unique and diverse perspectives; the communication is a lot more intentional and a lot more in focus so its easier to properly sit and attend to the complex differences and sometimes conflicting directions

It's honestly just a lot of fun, not gonna lie. A lot more dramatic and extravagant expression + brain friends in a more overt sense

Easier to let certain parts of the brain take "breaks" - it's not the same as it is with not-fully-integrated DID but compared to Full Fusion, certain parts of the brain can "tune out" easier than not

More palatable to DID / OSDD spaces online

Easier to focus and use a wide variety of skills, interests, hobbies, and thinking patterns by simply just having a specialist part take their look at it

Generally easier to target specific boxes to look into as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Pros:

Quick and a lot more inherent understanding of all parts on a general gut level without necessarily needing to fully think about everything and listen to every opinion and perspective; there is a lot more of an inherent understanding, trust, and awareness of the collective whole which makes decision making and seeing whats good for the system as a whole a lot easier

It's honestly way more calming, relaxing, and solid feeling. There is a unique sense of confidence, understanding, and trust within yourself and you have a HUGE arsenal of skills and interests that come from the combined parts that you've lived as

You are a lot more present and aware of your life and you actually get to live YOUR life and have all parts of yourself be engaged in life; no part feels really left behind or is caught off guard from having their brain partially turned off. The awareness is really present and engagement is so much more complete.

More palatable in real life and non-DID/OSDD spaces

Easier to simultaneously use skills from multiple parts at once; very much a jack of all trades all at once situation

Generally easier to integrate multiple complex and otherwise seemingly detatched boxes of memory and the past as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Functional Multiplicity Cons:

Takes more intention, focus, and often time to get the same level of full understanding of the whole system when making decisions. It can be slow and it requires a lot more internal engagement which can make it harder to be fully present in life

Sometimes you can get what I call "lite" amnesia where a part was not paying attention and doesn't fully process what was going on / what is going on and so sometimes you get poor attention-driven "amnesia". It's small and easily recovered by simply going "hold up wait" and thinking back or asking another part

Harder to use skills from different parts at the same time; albeit definitely still possible and only "harder" relative to final fusion

Generally harder / requires intentional discussion between parts to integrate multiple complex boxes as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Cons:

Less direct and overt bantering and discussion between parts (still present by the way, just less frequent and less overt). It can be a little less fun (still is fun cause they are sill there) and it can be a bit harder to fully see the extent of a more extreme perspective

It can be tiring and overwhelming to be aware and present so much for so long if you were accustomed to the breaks DID / OSDD tends to give parts

Easier to forget to use a lot of the skills and hobbies that may have been more niche to less-dominant and less-prominent parts; you don't "loose" the skills, you just aren't accustomed to using them as much so you can just kinda forget to use them

Harder to focus on a targetted recovered memory / information that you want to process and can sometimes be a bit overwhelming trying to connect a number of things at once

And this is all just to say that both are absolutely astonishing and great places to mentally be. The main point is that - for us - sometimes one state works better for us in the moment and another state works better for us later and that's completely cool cause - as aforementioned - the difference between plural vs singular is not a binary one for us anyways.

Anyways, I don't know how to wrap this up so I'mma just post it

Ideally today we will focus on cultivating our independent parts and return to Functional Multiplicity end of the spectrum so I guess tata for now

-Feathers

EDIT and PS: Anyone is allowed to add their thoughts to this so long it is in good faith.

[alluralater]

thick rant incoming

“i’m not gonna share my age on tumblr but i’m an adult” okay but you’ll share all of your interests and random details about your life and where you live and your pronouns and basically everything and anything else that can be used to identify you?? get fuckin REAL. don’t interact with my blog and then act as though you deserve more than the effort it takes for me to block you. listing your age as an adult helps keep minors OUT of adult nsfw spaces. there is no secret access, there is no private back room for you because you think you can skirt the line. fuck off. if you’re so afraid of being identified online that you refuse to adhere to the conditions laid out by nsfw content creators, then stop interacting in adult nsfw spaces. you don’t get an all access pass on the basis of “im protecting myself”

if i can find out your identity from your age listed online then you are somehow giving away WAY too much info about yourself. even if i had your entire name and your age, i still would have a very hard time locating you. the fuck. you’re not protecting yourself, you’re shielding yourself from accountability in online spaces. “how do you know people aren’t lying” how do YOU know the creators you consume nsfw content from aren’t actually minors?? it’s this thing called ‘not everyone in the world is out to get you and this isn’t dateline.’ keep your wits about you and shut the fuck up oh my god.

you can’t consume adult nsfw content while also refusing to listen to the creators and ALSO get mad at them for expecting something reasonable from you. and listen, if people are lying, the fuck does that have to do with me?? it’s not my fault if someone decides to lie to gain access to my blog. morally and/or legally i would not be at fault. i’m also not out here shooting dms back and forth with tons of people that i don’t trust— are YOU? not everything is omegle. if you’re an adult, stop treating yourself like a vulnerable minor and start acting like you can withstand a crumb of responsibility. you are accountable for your actions and how you carry yourself in the spaces you inhabit. this is an adult ONLY space. either put your age in your bio or fuck off. what have you invested that you feel so entitled to be here?? nothing. not a damn thing. i block people like you ON SIGHT because you’re weird as fuck. anyways

[gin-juice-tonic]

I've been thinking a lot about gender identity and stuff lately, but to my shame I’m not the most educated person when it comes to lgbt related stuff. Every time I try to search it to learn more I end up freaking out and clearing my browsing history because of the feeling of being watched. I know I’m being unreasonable, but it’s stronger than me. I don’t have anyone to ask about this kind of stuff. Everyone around me is negative about lgbt, I grew up among this negativity. I’m afraid to ask my online friends because I don’t want to seem ignorant or stupid. What have I decided to do? Send an anonymous ask to a stranger about my concerns (sorry about that), whose blog helped me to accept the fact that I might not be who I though I was at the first place. It feels more safe. Back to the point.

As a teen I used she/they pronouns and a different gender-neutral name online for years. I still do it as an adult and now I realise that “she” was more like a compromise for me because it was what I used to be referred as for my whole life, but didn’t feel quite comfortable with. So it’s they/them for me, I guess. Okay. I’ve always preferred to not be related to any gender, but now I see that there’s more to it. I might be a nonbinary, but what if I’m actually an agender? I also consider the possibility of being a genderfluid because one moment I wear a dress and think that it looks good, and the other moment I cry in front of a mirror because of the idea of wearing it. So yeah, it depends on my mood. I don’t know how it works. I’m just so confused. The only thing I know that I’m not comfortable with being referred to as a female anymore. I’ve never really been.

Admittedly, as someone who is binary trans, I do not have a lot of knowledge in this area. I do know what it’s like to not know what you’re “supposed to be” though. And I know it can be frustrating and scary to be lost in trying to figure out your own identity. 

I asked some of my friends, who are nonbinary and genderfluid themselves, and the first thing we all have to say is you should allow yourself more kindness. I am sorry that you grew up around so much negativity. But I want you to know that it’s both okay to feel afraid but also okay to not know everything. If a friend is going to treat you badly for asking questions, they’re not a very good friend. 

One of my friends says the part you said about “making compromises” resonated a lot with them a lot, so you aren’t alone there. As for how you feel in a dress, clothes do not equal gender. You can like how you look in a dress without any of it having to do with girl-ishness. I suggest you try to think about why you like it when you do, and why you don’t when you don’t. My friends also suggested trying other clothes you can express yourself with. Think about why you like them, or why you don’t like them. (Of course, sometimes the answer has nothing to do with gender. I like athletic clothing because they make me look sporty, which is a neutral thing. But it’s good to know what parts aren’t related to gender at all too.) That extends beyond clothes too, any part of your presentation that you think you can play with without getting yourself into danger, you should. 

It’s tempting to feel like you have to scramble to figure out a label. Especially when advice and other people you can talk to can feel sort of “grouped” under them. And there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained that way for sure. But there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained just in figuring out what you do and don’t like. What makes you feel bad, what makes you feel at ease, what makes you super excited. You���ve got it nailed down that you don’t like being called a female, that’s not a bad start! 

If your friends are people you think are good and kind, I would suggest reaching out to them so that you can explore things a little more with them, considering they know you better than I would. I know it's scary, but there's nothing wrong with not knowing things, and I hope they'd be aware of that too. And even if you call yourself something now and explore more into it, there's no harm if in the future it doesn't fit so good. There's no wrong way to be a gender, and more importantly there's no wrong way to be you.