#and two people who seem to believe that the key to keeping minorities safe is letting everyone have more guns

[hussyknee]

Note to self: block, do not engage.

[queen--of--maggots]

Stealing Mikami’s Death Note

First, a few remarks. As I’ve said in the poll, I wrote this about 2.5 years ago but never posted it. I think it wasn’t finished, but I can’t remember what else I wanted to add. Except for some minor reworking here and there, I left it as it was. It may be a bit messy. Consider it as a cleaned-up WIP rather than a finished analysis.

Gevanni should not have been able to exchange Mikami’s Death Note. The Death Note was located in a safe deposit box. How did he get it from there? Gevanni had the key to the box itself, but the key alone is useless.

Let me explain how safe deposit boxes work. The safe deposit box is not located within a random locker room to which everyone has access, as the manga suggests. It is located in a vault. Newer models work with key codes. You get two codes; one opens the vault, and the other opens the box. This model does not depend on business hours. You can use it anytime. Older models, such as the one Mikami’s bank has, work with physical keys. The key the customer owns only opens the safe deposit box, not the vault. To get access to the vault, an employee has to open it for you. Therefore, it depends on business hours.

See the problem? How could Gevanni convince an employee to open the vault for him? I’m pretty sure that bank employees don’t let people randomly walk inside the room without making sure that they own a safe deposit box. You can only get one if you are a customer of this bank. Maybe Gevanni opened a bank account and got one, but this seems unlikely. A US American who isn’t employed in Japan wants a bank account from a local Japanese bank and a safe deposit box. That sounds more than suspicious to me. What is he up to? Tax evasion? Using it for drug money? It’s probably something illegal, and I doubt the bank will play along so easily.

Pretending to be Mikami is out of the question. Mikami visits the bank regularly. The employees most likely know him. And since Gevanni isn’t Japanese, he will stand out anyway. Getting a fake ID, a fake debit card, and pretending to be a different customer isn’t really an option either. First, he has to find a suitable one, which would take a while. Then there is the risk that the bank employees know said customer Gevanni pretends to be.

Technically, Gevanni could have forced the employees to open the vault with a gun, but afterward, they would have called the police, and everything would have been in vain. And since he got in there twice, this possibility can be excluded.

Let’s not forget that the SPK never had any authority in Japan. They are just regular people there. Forcing the bank employees to open the vault in a non-criminal way isn’t possible for them. The only country where they had authority was the United States under President Hoope, and it was withdrawn with his death.

What other options does Gevanni have? Breaking into the vault? I don’t think so. That’s almost impossible, especially within the narrow time frame.

Bribing the employees? Possible and probably his best option, but very risky and somewhat farfetched. The bank employees handle large sums of money daily, which means most of them are likely trustworthy. Gevanni would have needed a corrupt employee. Finding one will take time, which he doesn’t have. Or he has to offer an amount of money no one could refuse. Gevanni would probably need it in cash, though. Otherwise, no one would believe him without seeing the money first. Where would he even get it from within a couple of hours? And again, he was in the vault twice, so he may have to bribe two people.

You could argue that in the Death Note universe, it works like this. People can randomly wander into the vault and fiddle around on the safe deposit boxes as much as they want without security giving a fuck. But why should anyone use these in that case? It is highly insecure. And keep in mind this service isn’t free, you have to pay for it. Why should anyone pay for this service if a safe at home is a better investment since it offers the same or even more security?

Ohba putting so little thought into critical elements like these always felt very disappointing to me.

[imasimpforshanks]

Hi there!

I hope you're doing great. Ehm... May I requests Law for either the romantic or the Angst alphabet? I just can't decide that and would like you to choose from it.

I'm really looking forward to your work. Other than that have a nice day/eve. ♡

Fluff Alphabet - Trafalgar Law

a/n: hi there!!! thank you for requesting and for your kind words 💓 I chose the fluff alphabet because our man has suffered enough and I couldn’t handle writing out angst for him 🙃 ANWAYSSSS pls enjoy x

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

During the little free time he has, Law loves to spend it with you doing anything lowkey. He’s usually pretty exhausted from everything going on, so taking some time to wind down and read a good book with you tucked him next to him reading you’re a book of your own is his ideal way to spend time with you.

That being said, if you are a person who prefers to do something active, Law won’t say no to that (so long as it’s not Luffy level active).

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Law admires your way of thinking. You always seem to bring a fresh, unique perspective and now he can’t help but ask for your input on everything. This is also what he finds the most beautiful about you. He’s never been one to care that much about what is on the outside. To Law, it’s what is on the inside that counts (who knew law was so cliché;)). Your mind and the way it works is a wonder to behold and Law counts himself very lucky that he is the one that gets to see you in action the most.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

Law takes a very pragmatic approach when it comes to comforting his s/o. He’s a doctor, so its only natural for him to think in this way. He asks you directly what’s wrong and how he could help – it’s the most logical thing to do and the quickest way to ensure you are feeling comforted.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

In the future Law wants to live a simple, quiet life with you. Somewhere secluded and far away from all the noise and chaos of the world. You’ll live in a nice house (nothing too fancy), with a child or two running around acting out their parents’ infamous pirate adventures.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. For the sake of your safety and his sanity, he prefers to be the one to take charge with you following his lead. But, he does still value your input in almost all decisions.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.

Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Before he met you, Law’s life was very dull. Yes, he has his fair share of adventures and fun with his crew, but there was something missing from his life. But then you came along, bringing a little more colour into his life. Instead of being exhausted and tense from dealing with everything alone, you forced your way in and pried him open, allowing him to share his burdens. For that, Law is eternally grateful.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Initially, Law tried to hide quite a lot. He was very selective about the information he shared with you. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just struggled to share things with others – his past has made him very closed off. But, before he knew it you managed to weasel your way in, and soon he found himself confiding in you about everything. The only time he ever keeps a secret is if knowing it will jeopardize your safety.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

I touched on this a little bit before, but you were able to teach Law the relief and comfort that comes with trusting and relying on others. Because of you, he was able to learn that its important to not deal with everything on your own.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?).

It’s not often that Law gets jealous. It’s an ugly emotion, plus he feels no need to be jealous since he trust you with his whole heart. However, if he was to get jealous, he is definitely the quiet jealous type. His fists clench a little tighter, his frown deepens ever so slightly, and he just doesn’t speak. He doesn’t ignore you though, rather he chooses to curt replies until he eventually gets over it or if it’s really bothering him he may bring it up with you.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

He is a very inexperienced kisser, not having (or wanting) many romantic relationships in his past. Even so, he’s surprisingly not horrible (but not great either) at kissing. Maybe it has something to do with his deep knowledge and understanding of the way the human body works. Unfortunately, during your first kiss he tried to rely a little too much on his ‘knowledge’ rather than melting in to it. It wasn’t a horrible first kiss, it just felt a little stiff. The desire was there, but it was as if he were afraid to give in to the emotions he was feeling and reading your signals. However, after a little communication and guidance he’s now an expert.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

It was in the heat of the moment after you had done something completely and utterly stupid, that almost cost you your life. He wasn’t intending on doing it right then and there, in fact he actually had a whole plan of how and when he was going to tell you how he felt. But seeing you lying in the infirmary after having to operate on you was more than he could handle and before he knew it the words just slipped out.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Marriage is indeed something Law wants. You wouldn’t expect it but after you two officially got together, it wasn’t more than a month before Law started thinking about marriage. He knows now isn’t the time for marriage, but it’s definitely in his plans for the next few years or so.

His proposal is going to be low key. The two of you would have to be alone with no other people around – maybe while you two are lying in bed one night, he just pops the question. And as with the proposal, your wedding would also be low key. No big party or ceremony, just you two and the people closest to you (bepo definitely officiates).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

‘Babe’ or your name are his usual choices for when you are around other people. But occasionally when he’s on the verge of falling asleep he’ll let out a yawn followed by a sleepy “babyyyy”.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

When Law is in love he tends to keep his cool and collected façade. But on the inside he’s a babbling, nervous mess. He doesn’t do anything particularly out of the ordinary other than making a bit more of an attempt at conversing with you. He loves hearing you talk and rambling on about things you’re passionate about so he does try to find any excuse to talk to you.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

PDA is something Law isn’t the biggest fan of. He’ll stand next to you and be in close proximity while sharing a few glances, but other than that he won’t engage in PDA. Law considers that sort of thing to be private and intimate so he likes to keep it between the two of you. Occasionally, if you are feeling a little extra needy he may give in to a quick hug or forehead kiss.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

It may not come as that much of a surprise but, Law can make one hell of a cup of coffee (actually any hot drink really). His perfect brew definitely comes in handy.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Oh boy, he is way more romantic than anyone would ever realize. He loves doing little things for you just to see that sweet smile on your face. It makes his heart swell with happiness.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

Rather than being the consistently positive support, Law provides you with constructive criticism and things that can actively help you achieve your goals. He’s a realist, so doesn’t think only saying “you can do it” or “it’s only a minor setback” is the way to go. He still says those things because they are true – Law honestly believes you can do whatever you set your mind to, however, constructive criticism is needed in addition to this.

The key take away here is: YES. Law believes you can achieve all your hopes and dreams.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Law needs routine, especially in your relationship. You have continued doing the same things in your relationship since you first got together because it works. Why would he want to change what works? It’s safe, it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable.

That being said, he’s not opposed to the idea of spicing things up. If you ever felt like trying something new (or even if he starts to feel bored about something), he would be open to the idea. Who knows, maybe the new thing you try could even become a part of your routine.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

It’s no surprise that he is very adept at reading people, he’s on to it and has exceptional observation skills. He uses these skills with you as well.

He knows what it’s like to be consumed by emotions (in fact he knows that too well), and while with most, he’s the type to keep his emotions hidden, when it comes to you he shares his emotions to help you realize that he also knows how it feels and that you are not alone.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

Your relationship is a top priority in his life. He’s lost everyone he ever cares about (other than his crew) and there is no way he is going to lose you too. The only thing that may potentially rival your relationship is his goal of taking revenge on Doflamingo.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

There’s nothing he loves more than you running your hands through his hair while his head is on your chest or stomach. He automatically leans into your hand every time. He feels the safest in this position.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

Like I said before, he is affectionate but it’s mainly when the two of you are alone. Those displays of affection are for the two of you and no one else. But, when the two of you are alone he absolutely loves cuddles (especially lying with his head on your lap or chest).

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He gets stressed when you’re not around for more than one reason. Firstly, you can’t help to calm him down and force him to take a breather. Secondly, he’s constantly worried about your safety and wellbeing.

Honestly, the only way he copes with it is by stressing (I know it’s not coping at all but I mean that’s Law for you LMAO).

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

Law would put his life on the line for your relationship. He doesn’t want to lose someone he cares about – not again. He can’t handle that sort of pain, so if it was required of him, he would gladly give his life.

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

do you think there is any significance that alex's colour scheme is green and pink? or do you think rr went "u know what this character needs? to look like a watermelon"

((Prefacing this by saying that I'm giving RR way too much credit here, but you shouldn't take anything an author does for granted— even a serial author who often makes blunders and mistakes.))

A while ago I saw a (pretty unfair) assumption that RR made it green and pink because blue and pink would be too obvious, but that his intention was obviously to reinforce the gender binary by using two distinctly gendered colors for a character with two distinct genders. Of course, they did not phrase it so delicately. No offense to whoever made that post, but I disagree.

Although that may have had to do with it, there's other things to consider. One of them is color symbolism. And oh. OH. I ADORE symbolism— especially flower/plant symbolism (Language of the Flowers and all that jazz), seasonal symbolism (there's a reason that evermore is my second favorite Taylor Swift album), and color symbolism.

GREEN

Let's talk about green first. Green can symbolize a lot of different things, and there are a few that can be applied to Alex's character. The most obvious thing that green often represents is jealousy— hence the expression "green with envy." But envy is not really one of Alex's character traits. Feel free to argue with me if you think that Alex is significantly envious. Just because I couldn't think of substantial textual evidence for it does not mean that there isn't any.

One of the traits that Alex does have is wealth. Green is the color of American currency, and since both RR and Alex are American, it's safe to take an American lens while looking at this color. Alex's socioeconomic background effects her in a big way. I mentioned in a previous post that I think that Alex's fatal flaw is her sense of entitlement. That kind of entitlement is a quality not exclusive to but common among the upper class. However, her distance from her wealthy background enhances the sense of irony in the story, which is a VERY big thing that we NEVER talk about within the fandom.

This is kind of a little thing, but it's worth noting that when it comes to Valhalla and everything, Alex is "green"— as in new and inexperienced.

The color green also emphasizes Alex's connection with nature. This is one of the parts of Alex's character that the fandom consistently underplays, which is an absolute shame. I don't think I have to explain why the color green is associated with all things natural. Alex's association with nature provides a few key things to her character:

It makes her a more well-rounded character. Another criticism of Alex I believe is totally unfounded is that "being genderfluid is her only personality trait because it influences her philosophy on pottery, which is her only hobby." I'm probably going to make another post in, like, a few minutes about why I find that argument a little silly, but the primary problem is that pottery is not Alex's only hobby. She also loves camping, hiking, and ice wall climbing (I bet y'all forgot about that last one!)

It gives her a connection with Magnus. I mentioned in a previous post that Magnus and Alex are foils, but I neglected to bring up why that also makes for very good chemistry between them. Of course, yes, they have different goals and philosophy, which is what makes them foils in the first place. But foil relationships function best when the characters also share some traits. As it turns out, Alex and Magnus share several hobbies, and one of them is a mutual love for nature. This is a very unexplored thing in fics. Start doing it more plz.

Finally, and this one's kind of minor, but the Alex's green gives her a connection to Natalie. I know, whenever Alex and Natalie are compared, either in canon or in fandom, everybody kind goes "eww. Oedipus complex." Which is very fair and true. But they really do have a lot of similarites. The green of Alex's hair and clothes connects her to the green of Natalie's eyes. It's worth saying, too, that Alex has one amber eye— and amber is pretty close to dirty blonde, like Natalie's hair.

If I had more faith in RR, I might bring up the concept of intextuality and how Alex wearing green is an allusion to The Great Gatsby and how Alex is elusive to Magnus, just like Daisy is to Gatsby. But I don't.

PINK

To give credit to the person who wrote the post I mentioned at the beginning of this spiel, I do believe that part of the reason pink was used was to support femininity. Please keep in mind that Alex dresses in an androgynous way— not that there is an actually "gendered" way to dress, since gender as we perceive it is mostly made up. But Alex's existence as a transfemme person (which I will maintain until my dying day) means that pink has a certain significance to her. A lot of AMAB people embrace traditionally feminine things because if they don't, they will not be accepted as genuine women or genuine nonbinary folks, since masculine dress is unisex and kind of the default. So Alex wearing pink probably had something to do with her gender, yes. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, and it's certainly not an unrealistic thing.

Speaking of Alex's gender in relation to the color pink, let's talk about pink's use as a queer rights symbol. Alex was RR's first character to be introduced as a queer character from the start. This was not an insignificant thing, especially in the year of our Lord 2016 (which, despite popular belief, seriously had an entirely different landscape of queer rep. Though it's commonplace now to include genderqueer characters, it was exceptional at the time— especially by such an accomplished and mainstream children's author.).

Let's go back in time to Nazi Germany. Some of you might know this, but for those of you don't this transition must seem jarring. I swear there's a point. In addition to Jews, Romani individuals, people with disabilities, and Poles (among others), gay men were victimized by the Nazis. If you're wondering why lesbians weren't persecuted, it's because the Nazis didn't see them as a serious political threat, or as a threat to the perpetuation of the Aryan race since they assumed gay women could be forcefully impregnated if need be. Yeah, ew. Anyway, much like the Star of David being used to mark Jewish people, gay men were forced into concentration camps and forced to wear a pink triangle. Years later, after the gay population somewhat recovered, the pink triangle was reclaimed and used as a symbol for gay men. Some people who were not gay men used it, too, but that's somewhat controversial since it wasn't their symbol to reclaim. When the first pride flag was created, it had a pink stripe at the top to signify sex (this was later dropped so flags could be more easily produced). The pink triangle (inverted) was used during the AIDs epidemic with the caption "Silence=Death."

My point is that this is a very important color to queer folks. Having one of the first genderfluid characters in kid's lit wear pink...... I mean, it makes sense.

The last and final thing that pink represents, in this context and in general, is innocence. Granted, this kind of connects to feminitity since women (especially white women) are often infantalized and seen as innocent— which is another issue. In any case, the use of pink to represent innocence in Alex's dress is ironic. Alex has been robbed of her childhood innocence, first by her abusive parents, then by her life on the streets, and then by her eventual death at age sixteen. But then she actually regains her innocence. At the beginning of the—

Hold on. I just had a revelation. I'll make a post about it soon.

At the beginning of SotD, Alex is acting a little childish. The most obvious example is him jumping on Randolph's bed to "make noise." Alex's life is stable and relatively healthy for the first time in the years, and she experiences something that a lot of queer folks experience: a re-emergence of childhood at a late stage.

I imagine you didn't expect a post this long. I either make essay responses to asks or I add on one sentence and post it. Oops. Anyway, I believe the mcga fandom can be more creative than calling Alex a watermelon. Here are some other (kinda romantic) pink-and-green alternatives:

Roses

Dragonfruit

Grapefruit

Cherry blossom trees

[sidhewrites]

As a child, Katja’s father told her that sirens live in the bioluminescent waters surrounding their small village, but she seems to be the only one who believes in them. Her belief is solidified after a siren saves her as a child – and cements her fixation on sirens throughout her life, even through the tragedies and changes throughout the years.

Genre: Short fiction, wlw

Content Warning for thalassophobia (fear of open/deep water), near-drowning experiences, parental death, and some minor violence/gore.

Available in Ao3 here. // Project info

Prev. || Next

CHAPTER THREE.

Mafalda died a week after the funeral. Health complications. The lighthouse still hadn’t been lit.

Jerzy was a mess. He started drinking in the evenings, then in the mornings as well. He cried every night, after he thought I’d gone to bed. By then, I didn’t go to school more than once or twice a week, if that. Jerzy could barely take care of himself, much less remember to take care of me, and the near-constant rain was quickly turning to sleet. Night fell halfway through the afternoon, and the new lighthouse owner didn’t know how to do his job.

I informed Jerzy nightly of my dissatisfaction, much to his quickly growing irritation.

“Your father,” he said through his teeth and beer-stained breath, “had left the lighthouse to you in his will. Once you turn eighteen, it’s yours. So just sit down and start living in the real world until then.”

Stop talking about the sirens, he meant.

I didn’t know how.

I went to the ocean as often as I could. I saw the silver lights dancing among the algae and plankton, more than ever before. Night fell earlier and earlier, and I stole a lantern from the general store for safety. If Jerzy had noticed, he never said anything. 

I sat on the jetty for hours, shouting at the wind, or talking to the waves, or singing my own made-up songs, with only my sad little lantern for company. I imagined myself as the last line of protection against the sirens, keeping the harbor safe from their song.

It sounded on the wind more often than not. When the rain fell or the sun shone for a few sad hours a day, the sirens’ voices would beckon young men on the water’s edge, promising their hearts’ true desires, if only they’d come to the water. If only they’d jump.

“I won’t ever jump,” I told the water, in my own off-key and rhythmless song. “I’ll keep this harbor safe, and, besides, I know how to swim.”

Two silvery points of light blinked at me from down below. Algae glittered in the water as it was moved about, and, slowly, the young siren’s face took shape, soft and delicate despite her teeth and grey skin. She still wore my red backpack, worse for wear but clearly beloved.

“Why are you here?” she asked, with a voice as gentle as the salty wind on my face.

“I’m scaring the sirens away.” I held up the lantern with pride.

She hissed, and disappeared back into the water.

“Wait --” I dropped the lantern in a rush. “Wait, I’m sorry! Come back!”

But she was gone, nothing but a stream of sparkling algae in her wake.

Three more people died in the coming weeks, each one drowned and bloodless. I turned nine at some point, between one attack and the next. Nobody remembered my birthday.

Jerzy’s daughter Lorelei came home for the first time in years. I let them forget that I was there while she helped prepare the third funeral that month, and I remember thinking that she was so beautiful, with her bright red hair and dark sunglasses.

Lorelei was a professional woman. She suggested sending me off to a boarding school so I could be taken care of there. My father’s friends tried to take me in, reluctant to send me away, but I was a difficult child, distant and angry. Nobody knew quite what to do with me. So we settled into a sort of routine. I would spend a few weeks at one house, and they would dote on me. Then accept me. Then tolerate me. Then, when they got tired of trying, they would send me to someone else.

I kept my lantern with me at all times, swinging it as I walked in my wellies and parka, kicking up snow and stomping in slushy puddles. More often than not, my destination was the jetty. I’d sit and talk for hours, waiting until the glowing eyes and little red backpack showed up in the water’s depths. For weeks, she came no closer than that, afraid of the lantern or maybe forbidden by the older sirens I never saw.

In time, however, she came close enough that I could make out her face in the murk. I leaned over as far as I dared, knees just inches from the edge of the rocks, and I started to sing.

She laughed at me. I wasn’t a good singer, after all, and I liked to imagine that sirens had an instinctual skill with music. But I wasn’t going to be dismayed, even when the siren opened her wicked mouth to sing back to me. I held out a closed fist, and she stopped, confused, until I opened my hand. A little plastic bracelet fell into the water, beads sparkling like the algae it disturbed, and she snatched it up with greedy webbed hands. I caught sight of the reflective fins on her upper arms, and a tail covered in scales flashing in what little light there was.

“I have more,” I said, and she looked up from her prize expectantly. “But you have to talk to me first.”

Slowly, the siren raised herself up out of the water to rest her forearms on a smooth rock. “Give it to me, or I’ll bite you and drain you empty.”

I sat back, reaching for my lantern. “If you come any closer, I’ll turn the light up all the way, and then you’ll go blind.”

She hissed, and retreated into the water.

“Wait!” I fished another bracelet from my bag and held it out for her to see. “Please. I just want to talk to you.”

Again, the siren resurfaced, even more slowly than before. She stayed low on the water, eyes on the plastic beads, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She bared her teeth. “You’re just a little girl, you know. You won’t even make a decent meal.”

“I’m not little. I’m nine.”

“Oh yeah?” The siren puffed out her chest. “I’m ten.”

“Oh.” My childish pride was wounded, and I sat back to pout. Ten, in my nine-year-old’s mind, was infinitely older and more impressive. Ten meant you knew long division, and didn’t count on your fingers anymore.

“What do you want to talk about anyway?” she asked. “You’re food.”

“I want to know why you saved me.”

“Saved you?”

“That’s my backpack. I was wearing it when I fell in the water four years ago. You saved me.”

The siren pulled at one of the red straps. “What did you say this was called?”

“A backpack?”

“Backpack,” she echoed, with something resembling wonder, as she ran a finger along the fabric.

I almost felt guilty for interrupting. “It’s mine -- it was mine.” I was quick to correct myself when she jolted back with a protective hiss. “If I’m just food, how come you pulled me to shore instead of eating me?”

She shrugged. “I wanted the backpack. Fair trade.”

It hurt, just a little bit, but I supposed it made sense. In the end, I didn't mind losing my favorite backpack in exchange for my life. So I got comfortable, and played with the bracelet as we talked. “What’s your name?”

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it.”

“Probably not. What is it?”

She made a squeaking sound that reminded me of whales.

I repeated it as best I could, and she laughed. After a few more attempts, I sighed. “Please teach me.”

She grinned. “You’re too stupid to figure it out on your own.”

“You didn’t know what a backpack is called.”

The siren frowned but allowed it. It took twenty minutes, at least, but I learned to say her name. She seemed pleased, if a bit frustrated at how long it took, and smiled up at me. “Now tell me yours. Fair trade.”

“Katja.”

“Kat-yah?” she echoed.

“Katja.”

“Katja,” she tried again.

I was almost angry at how quickly she picked up on it. But I threw her the bracelet all the same. She caught it with a high-pitched squeal and dove down deep. I didn’t see her again that day.

I returned as soon as I could, having stolen a few more bracelets from Jerzy’s store, and, soon enough, the siren came back too. We spent hours together, just the two of us, talking as the months passed and the sun set earlier and earlier. Rain turned to sleet, and parts of the harbor iced over. The jetty became my safe haven, cold and quiet and away from the people around me.

The siren laughed easily and loudly, and was careless with her words at first. She called me food, and useless, and little, until she realized how much it upset me. Slowly, she trained herself off the habit without being asked, and used my name when asking me questions. 

Eventually, I didn’t even have to bribe her with bracelets. She would simply be waiting for me, eager to tell me a new song she had learned from an older siren, or to show off her latest treasures, or to brag about the seal she had hunted all on her own. She told me anything and everything, and I was all too pleased to listen.

In a way, I was happier than I’d ever been before. I came to think of her as my siren. My friend, even though I was never brave enough to use the word around her.

Other children avoided me, and the adults didn’t know what to do with me. I was serious, distant, always losing focus in class and conversations. I would spend hours looking out to sea, waiting for the bell to ring or for my current guardian to forget I was there, so I could take my parka and snow boots and disappear off to the jetty. They blamed my isolation on grief. I never bothered to correct them. 

Ultimately, Jerzy agreed with Lorelei, and made plans to send me to a boarding school. For my safety, and his sanity, I think he said. Lorelei paid for my tuition and enrolled me herself. I hated her with every inch of my body for sending me away. I hated Jerzy even more for letting her.

TAG LIST: @ambreeskyewriting @maitretmaitresse @sonofapunk

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

watching you

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count - over 2.5k (loads of them)

Warnings - stalkerish Lee, arsehole ex, gun violence, eventual smut, breeding kink.

A/N - firstly if you are a minor then shoo, come back when you’re 18 please. Secondly thanks to my wife @buckyownsmylife​ for proofing this for me and as always hyping me up enough to post. This is for her 2k birthday challenge and if you aren’t already following her then what are you waiting for?

A/N 2 - @dreamslikeaheartbeat surprised me with this awesome mood board earlier and I love it. I encourage you all to go and have a look at her work she’s amazing and you won’t regret it.

Being one of the only detectives in this small town meant that most people respected Lee Bodecker, he would always get a table at the diner, always go to the front of the queue and locals knew to do what they were told when he asked.

That was until you arrived, moving here from another state you knew absolutely nobody and decided to open a coffee shop across from the station. The day before you opened you took a tray of coffees and freshly baked muffins to the station to say hi and let everyone know you were excited to get to know them. You had everyone under your spell with your first smile but Lee knew something was up, young girls like you don’t just move from big cities to small towns for the hell of it.

It took him a week but he had you, you were running away from your husband, he was a small time criminal but his wrap sheet was one of the longest Lee had seen in a long time. You were only married for six months before you showed up here and he wanted to know why, he was only protecting the town from future problems or at least that’s how he justified it to himself.

You weren’t due to open for another hour when you heard someone at your front door banging to be let in, you were covered in flour from making the cafes daily selection and didn’t really want anyone to see you like this but they were so persistent. Wiping your hands on the nearest cloth you peered out of the kitchen and were confused to see Detective Bodecker smiling through the window at you waving to be let in. You opened the door slightly and got a shock when he barged in locking the door behind him “hey sweetheart I’m glad we finally have time for a little talk” looking up at him slightly confused “I’m not open for another hour Detective can you come back then, I’m a little busy right now” turning your back on him and walking back to the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly he follows you standing a little too close and breathing down your neck “i said i wanted to talk” rolling your eyes you look up at him “and i said I’m busy” turning back to the bowl of blueberry muffin batter and adding more cinnamon, you’re about to mix when you see his thick finger dip into your bowl then into his mouth. He moans as he licks his finger clean and smirks as you visibly cringe at the sight “what the fuck! You can’t do that” you shout at him, furious inside as now you have to dump it all and start again. “Relax sweetheart you can make this my batch I’ll pay you for the loss” before dipping his finger again and pushing it into your mouth as you’re about to protest. You pull your head back and slap him across the face “get the fuck out of my cafe now, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You shout, watching as he wipes his finger across your apron and soothes his cheek “you’re feisty, i like it, we’re going to have some fun darling” and with that he turns and walks out leaving you stood in shock unable to understand what just happened.

A week goes by and he hasn’t been back so you put the little incident down to some sort of hazing and try to forget about it but you can’t, you see him all over town and he always seems to be watching you. You’re not sure what it is he thinks he’s going to catch you doing but he’s always there.

The next day you’re in the florists when you see him walk past and wink at you, enraged by his inability to leave you alone you pay for your bouquet and storm out looking for him. Marching down the street you can’t believe this is the first time in a week you haven’t seen his smug face watching you, you relax for a moment before you feel someone grabbing your arm and pulling you into the alleyway.

Your back hits the wall and you want to scream out but his hand is over your mouth before you can “you looking for me sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, licking the outer shell and managing to dodge your knee as you attempt to introduce it to his balls. “You are trouble, I don’t like trouble in my town, I like an easy ride. I don’t want your shithead of an ex wandering into town and messing things up” your body stiffens at the mention of your ex and Lee noticing this chuckles “you think I don’t know who you are? Who he is?” You bite his hand to get him off you and suck in a deep breath “he doesn’t know where i am, he’s not going to show up here. Is that why you’ve been following me all across town you fucking creep?” Anger flashes across his face and he wraps his fingers around your throat “this is my town and I’ll follow who I like, do you understand?” You roll your eyes and nod your head knowing you aren’t getting out of this alleyway if you don’t “fine, follow me, see if I give a shit. I don’t do anything interesting anyway. If you’ve got nothing better to do than watch me all day so be it” he loosens his grip and takes a step back, admiring your bravery he doesn’t expect the punch to his gut as you pick up your things and walk away. Too winded to follow he watches you turn the corner and slumps down the wall to get his breath back.

The whole town loves your cafe and you feel settled as your regulars make their way in for their usual orders, enjoying the fancy coffee recipes you come up with everyday and clearing out your cakes by lunchtime. You hadn’t seen much of Lee since that day in the alley but you can always sense him nearby. His smell seems to have invaded your life in so many ways.

Closing down for the day you have your back to the door when you feel some hands wrap around your waist “why did you run away baby?”. Your blood runs cold, his voice makes your heart pound and his grip on you hurts probably leaving purple bruises on your sides, you try to pull at his thumbs to weaken his grip but he knows all of your moves now “baby come on didn’t you miss me?” Swinging your head back into his face he stumbles backwards giving you the chance to run for the back door, running through the kitchen you see Lee sitting on your counter eating some of your chocolate and looking smug “he’s here, he’s out there” pulling out his gun he stalks out to the seating area and sees him sat waiting.

“Well, well Ransom Drysdale what brings you out here to our little corner of the world?” Keeping his gun aimed at the man he keeps you behind him, protected, safe. Ransom sizes him up deciding what his next move will be when he stands moving towards them slowly “i don’t want any trouble. I just want my wife to come home with me, you can understand that surely?” Looking around Lee you scream “I’m not going anywhere with you! Now get the fuck out of my place” Ransom stops and stares at you, shaking his head “always so angry with me, come home and let me make you happy I’ll buy you anything you want you know that. Nothing is too much for my baby”. You grab the second gun off Lee’s belt and step out pointing it at Ransoms head “just leave me alone and go back home you don’t want me, you just don’t want people thinking you’re anything other than perfect” that's all it took he strode towards you unsheathing his blade screaming insults at you when you heard a loud bang and felt a warm splash on your face, looking at Lee he licks his lips “he can’t have what’s already mine and i won’t let anyone hurt you” he says walking towards you and catching you as you pass out in his arms.

You wake up in a hospital bed, your throat dry and your head throbbing. Looking around you’re shocked but not surprised to see Lee sitting in the chair next to your bed eating jelly beans and reading the paper “you’re awake” he says a little too loudly for your liking “Lee, what are you doing here. You took care of him I’m not a threat to your little town I’ll be gone before news travels round” he chuckles at you “oh you aren’t going anywhere sweetheart, we have unfinished business” throwing your head back you look up at the ceiling “what is it with men? Why do you all think you can control me?” He leans forward and licks your ear “you like me more than you realise, sweetheart. I’m patient though, I’ll wait” and with that he leaves, turning and winking at you before he exits.

It’s been a week since the incident, the police have cleared your cafe for opening again and quite a few of your regulars have arrived to help you with the cleanup, smiling at them all you unlock the door to let them in but scream when you see Lee sitting drinking a cappuccino at the counter “what the fucking fuck are you doing in here?” Walking up to him and turning him around on the stool “how did you even get in?” He looks you over checking to see if you’re ok “did you not realise this was my building sweetheart? I’ve got the master key I can come and go as I please” you groan loudly and turn to look at the damage, confused when everything seems normal you look back and see the biggest shit eating grin on his face “you're welcome sweetheart” kissing your head and walking out towards the station you watch him dumbfounded before making drinks for all the volunteers.

That was the start of his weird courtship, it never occurred to him that letting himself into the little apartment above your cafe and leaving flowers on your pillow was creepy, or that one time when he had your car towed because he thought he heard a weird noise one day when you came back from the market. It took him three months to ask you out and another two for you to agree but here you are now, wearing lingerie in his favourite colour excitedly waiting for him to come home. You sat on his sofa waiting to hear the jangle of his keys but they never seemed to arrive, you tried his phone but he didn’t answer either so you sat and waited. Next thing you know you’re being shaken awake by a sorry looking man who you haven’t decided is still your boyfriend, he looks you up and down blushing at the soft green lingerie you’re almost wearing “is this all for me sweetheart?” You scowl at him, angry that he’s almost three hours late and couldn’t send a quick text to tell you he’d be back when he could.

Running his hand down your face you bite the pad of his finger in warning “it was all yours hours ago, now I’m not so sure” sitting up and shifting away from him you try not to smile when he gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you for forgiveness. “I’m sorry there was a case, some kid we’ve been tracking for a while showed his face and I needed to go and see him”. You still won’t look at him so he kisses and nibbles up your leg the way he knows drives you wild his hands moving up your sides and pulling your bra down so he can rub and pinch your nipples relaxing once he hears a gentle moan from you. Kissing higher he licks around your belly button and nips at the flesh “you gonna finally let me fuck a kid into here baby? I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my son” grabbing him by the hair and pulling him up to your face “oh yeah and what if it's a girl?” You challenge him, going soft when he replies “even better, two of you to love for the rest of my life”. You pull him closer to you kissing him deeply, your tongue tickling the roof of his mouth making him jerk his hips forward before you pull back “you still have some making up to do” he smiles and pulls the tiny scrap of material covering your wet folds to one side before licking and nibbling at you like he’s a starving man. Your hands grip at his hair, his shirt, anything that will keep him exactly where he is, he knows exactly what you like making sure to spend as much of his time showing you as he can. He sucks on your clit, his warm mouth covering it before he flicks his tongue over it making you scream out his name, he could cum just from hearing you but tonight he’s going to give you all of him, it’s time.

He quickly strips as you come down from your high kissing your neck and jaw before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. You lay down watching him stare at you, you’ve never felt more loved than you do when he looks at you like this he always looks so grateful that you’re with him, he doesn't realise how much you love him. You hold your hand out and pull him down to you giggling when he almost falls, laying next to you he plays with your breasts “i can’t wait until these are full of milk for our baby” moving his hand down lower and rubbing your belly “until this is swollen and I have to care for you” his fingers move down lower, very slowly rubbing soft circles on your clit “fuck Lee, i need you” you whine, he leans down licking and nibbling on your nipple “you gonna let me do it? You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”. You grind your hips up trying to get more friction “please, fuck please” licking your ear “please what sweetheart?”

Not able to take anymore you grab him and push him down on the bed sinking down on his length, moaning at the stretch before leaning forward and kissing him. He grabs your hips and bounces you up and down, groaning loud at how tight you are. He needs you to come quickly or he’s not going to make it. His finger rubs at your clit pushing you over the edge squeezing his cock tight he cums hard, decorating your walls with his seed. You collapse forward and kiss his face all over, taking your time to appreciate him. He goes to move away but you grip him with your thighs “don't move yet, we have to make sure it all stays inside me don’t we” you smirk at his shocked face before laying on top of him content, already thinking of baby names and picturing the nursery.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Half of the things that regarding Tam in Kotlc frustrate me honestly. It feels like he’s pushed aside in the series so frequently, and I feel like this really peaked when he was in the Neverseen in Legacy. First off, it kinda rubbed me the wrong way the way that half of the characters were acting like Tam betrayed them? And maybe I just horribly misread the scene in which he was taken to the Neverseen, but I would not say that was a consensual decision, like at all. Gisela basically just said “Hey come with me or I’m making an entire species extinct and killing your sister.” like that’s manipulation that’s not what an honest decision looks like. I just felt so bad for him because he was borderline kidnapped by this awful group and it felt like no one was taking it seriously. Sophie reached out to him once on her own, and then once again when Linh pushes her to. That’s about all she did to try to help Tam for pretty much the entire book, unless I’m forgetting something. It just frustrates me, especially considering how much she did to try to figure out who her parents were during that book. This isn’t a thing against Sophie, it’s just that the things she did during that book kinda make it seem like Sophie being able to get a matchmakers list is more important than Tam being kidnapped. I don’t know, I just feel bad for Tam it always feels like he’s getting the short end of the stick when he seems like he’s one of the characters who would need support the most? I mean, he’s got so much to deal with and half of his scenes just feel like “here’s a scarring situation for you Tam! Now go back home to Linh or something.” Also, the way they described Tam being chained and mind-controlled actually made me sick that’s really horrific. (Also I don’t know where to put this, but characters keep acting like Tam’s super-ultra edgy and I don’t really see it? This is probably just me, but he’s always seemed more like a really stressed out person to me, not necessarily edgy. This might just be because he’s in a stressful situation in like 80% of the scenes he’s in.) I’ll be honest, Tam just kind of feels like a punching-bag character half the time.

tam is one of my favorite characters so i'm looking forward to this one, nonsie

I do feel that Tam's situation was treated very similarly to Keefe's, though there was actually a lot differentiating the two, which makes it feel weird. To summarize, Keefe ran away to the Neverseen, actively making that choice, and Sophie decided to trust him with that decision. She thought it was dumb and that they'd have to rescue him, but it had been his choice. And she coordinated with him, reaching out nightly to see what was going on and to get a sense of how he was doing. She was actively doing what she could to monitor him and balance her other responsibilities

some of this mindset carried over into Tam, while I think he should've been approached differently. because this wasn't his choice. it wasn't coordinated, and he didn't want to be there. he wanted out, and he wanted to be out safely. My mind is linking it to that one conversation with Sophie you mentioned, the one with Linh. Specifically because he told Sophie not to reach out to him, and said "I. LIKE. IT. HERE[...]I'M EVEN MAKING FRIENDS," (Legacy 407). I think this kinda led us to the "Tam wants to be there the way Keefe did" connection that really isn't accurate. he was threatened into joining, and nothing he says after the fact will erase that.

additionally, while Tam was with the Neverseen, Gethen was back and could search his mind, which was why Sophie didn't reach out to him more than twice. it was a risk that could put Tam in direct danger, and he wouldn't know when it was coming and couldn't agree to that risk. so if the two paths of action we're applying to Keefe and tam are to try and physically remove them from the situation or keep tabs on them, since contacting him is off the table, you'd think they'd focus more heavily on trying to get him back. but they...didn't.

I agree with your assessment of her priorities as well. i don't fault her for trying to figure out who her bio parents are or for wanting to explore matchmaking, i'm judging her for her timing. because she's consistently been very motivated by her friends and keeping them safe, it feels a little off that she prioritized matchmaking over Tam's physical safety. i know the love triangle and romantic drama has a lot of draw for some of the younger fandom base, but I feel as though it was prioritized too much and actually betrayed some of Sophie's key values for publicity.

and going back to the "he always draws the short end of the stick," thing, I think you're exactly right. i honestly can't think of any scenes off the top of my head with Tam where he's allowed to just be a teenager and take a break. There's always drama with him, which I think in part comes from the "sarcastic dark aesthetic friend" he's kinda gotten boxed into. he's there to be dry and pessimistic and further the conversation. note: he doesn't actually seem like a dry/dark outlook person as much as a lot of us (myself included sometimes) make him out to be. yes, he uses a lot of sarcasm, but that's not synonymous with dark and edgy.

to me he sounds like..,bitter? and resigned? and just generally annoyed to be there but doesn't want to show it. i don't think that makes sense so let me expand on it. he feels like when one friend of yours has invited you into a group of theirs friends (none of whom you know) and you're just kinda existing in the same space but are slightly uncomfortable and don't know what to do with yourself, but you don't want to let it show and risk offending anyone. you talk and fake your way through it but it feels off and you just don't like it and don't want to be uncomfortable anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually has a lot of anxiety that everyone around him just doesn't pick up on

his life changed drastically very quickly and he doesn't have a lot of friends. sure, there's the group, but they're not friends in that way. tell me, can you think of one person Tam would tell his worries or fears to? I can't. the most obvious might be linh, but I don't believe he'd tell her, because he'd want to protect her instead of burdening her with his worries. I think he's tied to her a lot and seen as a package deal in a lot of canon--and frequently in fanon--so it can be hard to separate them at times,

I might be jumping around a little, but back to the chains. those are incredibly fucked up, and I don't think they're given the appropriate emotional response they deserved. this is a teenager who has been physically chained for all hours of the day, for weeks. and he's just living with it, knowing he can't take them off. and when Sophie learns and tells Mr. Forkle, his response is that he's never heard of something like that before and would need to research it. Like?? excuse me?? one of the minors you let swear fealty to your organization is literally chained and you're 1. not trying to get him back 2. just saying you need to research it.

that's another thing! everything I remember (and I might be forgetting something) is the teenagers talking about Tam being missing and how they need a plan and want him back. But there are several adults in his life now who could step forward to take that responsibility. Tiergan. Mr. Forkle, Squall, the bodyguards, any dwarves working with the Black Swan, etc. You know, these adults with loads more resources and people at their disposal. they could do something, organize something, make an effort. A child was kidnapped and it feels like they went "wow that sucks. hope we get him back. anyways--" idk. that's just something that's bothered me.

he just keeps getting hurt again and again. it's like that's all we focus on with his character, him being sarcastic and dark in stressful situations and not him just existing. we see him fighting with his parents, fighting with the neverseen, being teased and singled out when he's around Keefe, like can he catch a break? can we just let him smile for once?

I, for one, think he deserves to be more than just a punching bag, nonsie

[yuta-nakamots]

we go up - l.mk

Pairing - Mark x Reader

Genre - Fluff, College!AU

Warnings - one single mention of sex but no descriptions of it

Summary - Growing up was a part of life. Though you were scared of all that the future holds, you looked forward to going through it all with Mark right by your side.

Word Count - 4.2k

A/N - this was supposed to be released 4 days ago ahaha I passed all my classes so that’s really what matters. anyways, here’s this fic to celebrate Milly’s 3 years on Tumblr and 5 years for me and my blog

Written for the Moodboard Collab hosted by @bumblebeenct​​. Also part of the Neowinter Festival hosted by @czennienet.

Song: We Go Up. Color Set: #1.

Never would you have thought that you’d be on the path to living in the real world so soon. Summers were for relaxing and having fun but you’ll never regret jumping at the opportunity to travel the world with Mark Lee instead.

Mark’s parents were executives for a travelling company that offered a variety of trips all over the world. You knew it was part of their job to visit those countries and survey the different options available and put together plans based on them but with Mark having just graduated from college and you going into your final year, it was soon to be a job shared by both of you as well.

It hasn’t been long since you first began dating him, in fact, it hadn’t been long since you first met him on your first day on campus. Both of you were moving in on the same day and crossed paths as you were lugging your two loaded suitcases in through the main entrance of the dormitory. Your family hadn’t come with you, putting their faith in you to make it to your school on your own, so you could only guess how pitiful you must’ve looked to others.

“Hey those look pretty heavy, I can help you with that if you’d like,” you looked up to find the owner of the voice and were met by a handsome boy with a smile you’d never forget, “my name is Mark, by the way.”

“Uh, y/n, nice to meet you and yeah, actually, if you could take this one it would help me so much.” You told him as you pulled up the smaller of the two suitcases.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take the larger one? I can handle it.” He looked at you with eyes full of interest, his pupils almost resembling boba thanks to the odd lighting in the hall.

You shook your head before turning to head to the elevator, “I only just met you, I wouldn’t make you do this. Besides, it’s not even that much heavier than the other one.”

“Alright, whatever you say. What floor are you on though? I can help you move in if you don’t have anyone else.” He offered kindly.

“I’m on the third floor,” you informed him, “but don’t you have somewhere to be? You couldn’t have just been sitting around in the lobby.”

You say his expression morph into one of panic before quickly relaxing, “oh, I was just on my way to the university center to pick up my keys and get my mail. Gosh, you made me think I was late to something important.” The laugh he let out was so full and loud, it felt as if it were reaching out to you.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything else you should be doing?” You question as you pressed the button for the elevator. “I’d hate to be the reason why you missed a meeting or something.”

Mark pulled out his phone as both of you waited for the elevator. “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything else planned for today. I just had to move in earlier and that’s it, I don’t have any solid plans.” The doors opened and let out a few other people, who you guessed were also students, before you and Mark stepped in.

“I just met you though,” you pointed out, “how do I know that you’re not some weirdo that’s gonna try steal my stuff?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Really? I mean, not like in a bad way ‘really’ but I can promise you that I’m not trying to do anything bad.”

You hummed in mock sarcasm, “mmhmm, that’s what they all say.”

“If you don’t believe me I’ll give you my number if you want or like my room number, even-”

“Mark I was just joking dude.” You laughed, amused by how gullible the boy was.

“Oh…” he breathed, relief settling over him as the doors opened up to the third floor, “but can I still get your number though?”

“Beat me to my room and I’ll think about it.” You took off running in a random direction, unsure which way you were even supposed to go in.

Mark followed close behind, “wait but I don’t even know which room number to look for!”

“Maybe that’s the point!” You shout back.

continue as always, wild and free

Though he did not make it to your room before you, you still gave him your phone number to thank him for helping you with your luggage. Mark was kind enough to stay and help you unpack your things and get your room set up. He even accompanied you to get dinner from the cafeteria since it was already getting late by the time the two of you finished unloading everything.

Over the next few days before classes, you hung out with Mark and any other freshmen that you happened to run into. You found out that Mark was a business major and planned to minor in tourism industry management. As for you, your major was biology with a focus in ecology.

Mark seemed to love sharing about himself as seen from the way he eagerly told you about the company his parents worked for and how he was interested in someday becoming a part of it which was why he chose his intended path of study. You had come in the college with the intent of wanting to make a difference in the world and help tackle one of the biggest global issues, which is climate change, leading you to your chosen track.

Mark was a great listener and seemed genuinely interested in everything you had to say. If he thought anything was lame or dumb, he hid it very well because he seemed to be picking up all the information you put down. You had come in knowing that most people in large corporations didn’t think much about the environment. Either Mark was faking it to keep his new friendship with you or he genuinely held the same beliefs as you. You chose to believe it was the latter.

All throughout your first year in college together you and Mark stuck together, always preferring each others company, even within the large group of friends you managed to accumulate with him. Luckily he was only one floor above you so he wasn’t far away at all. If you ever needed anything, he really was ‘one call away’ and would come running even if it was just to catch a bug in your room.

Freshmen year came and went, both you and Mark went back home for summer vacation and came back to campus as sophomores. You both kept in touch and regularly updated each other on things like Mark’s trip to Britain with his parents. That was the first real glimpse you had into his dreams and goals for his future. Meanwhile you just ranted to him about all the terrible customers that came in at your part-time job, though he didn’t seem to mind at all and always offered you his company.

Sophomore year was when he asked you to be his girlfriend. After the two of you had eaten dinner together as usual and were walking back to the dorms, that was when he had finally made a move. “So, uh, I know this may be kind of sudden but I actually really like you.” He told you.

You looked up at him as you continued walking next to him. “And in what way, exactly?”

“In a ‘I like you as more than just a friend’ kind of way.” He replied, looking down at the leaf-covered sidewalk.

“Well lucky for you, I might just like you in the same way.” Mark’s head shot up and his eyes met yours.

He blinked rapidly and his gaze never left yours, as if searching for the truth. “Wait, like really?”

“Yes, really.” You pulled him closer to you so he wouldn’t walk right into the tree that was coming up.

“Does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” He asked after mumbling a quick ‘thank you’.

You stopped walking and turned to face him. “If you ask properly then I don’t see why not.”

“Oh, uh,” his eyes flitted left to right before finally settling on yours, “will you be my girlfriend?”

“No.” You tried to hold your laughter in the way his eyes widened but you just couldn’t. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend you stupid! I didn’t say all of that for nothing, oh my gosh you really are so gullible.”

Mark’s mouth opened slightly before he closed it again and then burst out going “don’t do that to me for crying out loud! You don’t even know how I was actually about to cry if you said no just now.”

You grabbed his hand and quickly interlaced your fingers with his. “There, I’m sorry. Do you feel better now? Do you want me to kiss you to make you feel better?”

“Uh, yes? To both?” He spoke, still shaken from earlier.

You raised his hand to your lips, kissing that back of his hand with a smile. “Thank you for choosing me.”

i’m gonna try flying a little further

Things continued on in this way in your relationship, always keeping things lighthearted and never too serious. Thankfully both of you had past dating experience and weren’t completely clueless on how to act toward each other. One thing led to the next and you had your first kiss with him the day he was leaving to go home for winter break. “I love you, stay safe, don’t die.” You called out to him as he got into his uber.

“Got it babes, love you too.” He sent you a kiss before shutting the door which you happily caught and held to your heart.

It was during that break that the two of you told your parents about each other and things went surprisingly smooth of both ends. Mark had even informed you that his parents were interested in meeting you after he told them about your field of study. “Yeah they were so intrigued by it! They’ve been looking into more sustainable and eco-friendly options for a while now so I think this must’ve struck a chord with them.” He chattered excitedly over the phone.

“Dude, don’t make me even more nervous about meeting them-”

“Hold up, did you just call me dude?” He questioned.

“It’s not like you don’t call me dude as well.” You commented.

Mark let out a laugh on his end. “Alright, fair enough. But not to alarm you or anything, but they said that I could bring you along for one of our trips during summer if you’re down.”

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, seriously,” he confirmed, amused at your enthusiasm, “should I tell them that you’re interested?”

“Mark is that even a question? Of course I’m interested.” Your excitement was almost bubbling over from the way everything seemed to be working in favor of you and Mark.

The next summer, you did indeed tag along with Mark and his parents to who were more than happy to meet you and share information on their company while visiting Nevada. Mark wasn’t lying when he said that you interests ‘struck a chord’ with them. Sometimes it seemed like you were more like their child than he was with how much his parents talked with you about possible green options to inquire for. It was thanks to them that you decided to minor in tourism industry management like Mark, even though it would set you behind one year in graduation.

Going into your junior year, you were able to put together a small scrapbook of sorts with all the pictures from the trip to Nevada and gave it to Mark to celebrate your one year anniversary. “Wait, when did you even take that picture of me though?” He asked while looking at the picture of him spread out on a hotel bed like a starfish.

“You smacked me with your arm so I woke up and it was like, seven in the morning so I decided to just fool around and take pictures of you,” you explained with a smile on your face, “if you look in that bottom corner, you can see my foot because I had to stand over you but not too closely so my legs were like a triangle over you.”

Mark shook his head as he laughed at your antics before gently closing the book. “I love you, you know that right?” He placed a kiss on your cheek and sat back to adore you with his eyes practically sparkling.

“How could I not? I’d be worried that you may not know that I love you.” You told him playfully, setting the scrapbook aside and straddling his lap.

“Baby, that’s the last thing you need to worry about.” His voice fell into its lower ranges as he began kissing you in a way he never has before. It was on that night, the night of your first anniversary that the two of you made love for the first time in your shared campus apartment.

make me beautiful in the memories

When you brought Mark home for the holidays, your family was more than thrilled to meet him and you thanked whatever supreme being existed out there for blessing you with him. He got along well with your parents and even became a favorite of all the younger kids, especially when he joined them in making a snowman out in front of your house.

“Look y/n! Marky helped us start building a snowman!” Your younger sister exclaimed before running off once again to join some of your cousins.

You watched as Mark helped them roll the largest ball of snow around the yard until it was at least a third of his height. “Come join us y/n!” He called out. “You can get the rocks and sticks to make his arms and face.”

One of your younger cousins came by to join you as you sifted through the snow to find nice rocks to use. “When are you and Marky getting married?” He asked.

“Married? We’ve only been together for a year.” You told the little boy.

“Oh, hmm, well it’s never too early to start thinking.” He decided before finding a cute little stick that he deemed fit to function as a nose for the snowman.

You joined Mark in rolling the second ball of snow while the kids made the last one. “So what was that I heard about getting married?” He questioned.

Suddenly your cheeks felt warm and your eyes darted away from him and back to the mound of snow in front of you. “Uh, nothing, one of the kids just was asking if we plan on getting married.”

“He’s right, you know,” Mark spoke quietly, “it’s never too early to start thinking about it.”

“I mean, we’re still so young though.” You told him.

“That doens’t mean I don’t see myself having a future with you.” Mark commented as he picked up the ball of compacted snow.

“Gosh, you’re so chessy. What next? Names for our kids?” You joke as you watch him place the ball on top of the largest one at his knees.

He winked at you once the snowman had his torso complete. “Already on it.”

Spring semester was spent planning for Mark’s graduation in the following year and getting the classes for your minor arranged. His parents invited you to go with them to Hawai’i which you politely declined, as you did not know much about the people and culture and did not have time to accurately research before going thanks to all the summer classes you were taking to ensure that you’d graduate on time.

You and Mark decided to live off campus for his last year in college and though it was inconvenient to have to cook your own meals and walk a little bit further to get to school, it was all worth it when you got to make the memories you did with him.

“So you just crack the egg and drop it in the pan?” He hesitated, the said egg hovering over the edge of the frying pan.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Mark, how many times do I have to tell you? You just crack it and let it fall into the pan. It’s not that hard.”

He mocked your expression after you said ‘it’s not that hard’ as he cracked the egg into the pan, yelping at the way the oil splashed up at him. You left to freshen up a bit, having been woken up by the ruckus Mark had made in the kitchen only to come back five minutes later to another bout of him yelling for help. “What now?”

“I, uhh, I think I burned the egg.” His face was tinged with shame as you came over to the stove, sliding the egg in question onto a plate before lifting its side to see that it was indeed burnt.

“I don’t know how you manage to burn an egg after I leave you for such a short amount of time.” You tell him as you pull another one out from the refrigerator. “Here, try again. You’re lucky it’s the weekend.”

“You’re not gonna let me stop until I’ve successfully cooked an egg, huh?” You shook your head to answer his question, causing Mark to let out a sigh before going to add a little more oil to the pan.

look time fly, we fly, changes come with time

Days like that were normal for the two of you, though more often than not, you chose to order food since Mark was clearly not very trustworthy in the kitchen and you weren’t all that better yourself.

Living with Mark was not always happy and fun, though. Sometimes the two of you fought and sometimes it was over the smallest things like how he didn’t put his clothes into his hamper after changing out of them or how you’d leave your belongings strewn about the apartment.

Being with him taught you that a relationship is a two-way thing. Everyone has their flaws and if you truly love someone, you’ll learn to work with them to get solve problems that arise or get around them.

Getting to live with Mark and see him everyday was certainly a lot more convenient, especially when both of you were swamped with finals and had little to no time to go out on an actual date. Falling asleep in each others arms and waking up to the sight of the other was enough for those times. In those mornings where you woke up before Mark and didn’t want to get out of bed just yet, you took the time to be thankful for the path of life you were on and how thankful you were to have met the boy in front of you.

It was moments like those that made it all worth it.

When Mark graduated in the following spring, you sat in the crowd alongside his parents, watching him and your past classmates walk across the stage and receive their diplomas.

“Ah, he looks just the same as when he graduated from high school.” His mother commented. She even pulled up his old pictures and showed them to you, making you laugh at how cute he was back then. You could hear his voice in your head, whining about how he’s not cute but you paid it no mind.

The rush of emotion you felt when the name ‘Mark Lee’ was called and he stepped out in his cap and gown was truly something else. You stood up and cheered alongside the rest of his friends who were seated around you, the bunch of you only getting louder when his head jerked in your direction and he smiled and waved to you all.

the reason why i can be fearless is because you’re looking at me with your two eyes

“That’s going to be you next year, you know.” Mark’s father stated nodding over to where Mark was playfully chest-bumping his fellow graduates. “Okay, well not like that, but you know what I mean.”

You let out a laugh as you watched Mark stumble and nearly fall. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Do you have any plans for summer, dear?” His mother inquired.

“I have a few classes from June through July but I believe I do not have anything for the latter half of June until school starts again in August.” You informed her.

“Would you like to come along with us to Paris then? We missed you greatly last year and felt you would have enjoyed the experience more than Mark did.” She explained as she pulled up more pictures of Mark though this time it was him in a botanically garden getting scared from all the bugs. “I’ll send this one to you.”

You thanked her with a smile on your face and graciously accepted her offer to travel with them to Paris. Mark was over the moon when he heard that you’d be going with them, especially since this was going to be the first time he’d be allowed to lead the meetings and events.

It felt like school hadn’t even finished from the way you went right back to work for your summer courses and Mark got to putting together his first few projects for the company. He was intent on showing the executives that he was a fully capable individual and was not trying to simple ride off of his parents achievements. You were proud of him for that.

By the time you all got to Paris, it felt like a much needed breath of fresh air from the constant hustle of school and work. One of the first places Mark took you to was one of the local night markets near the hotel you were staying at. You pulled out your light blue polaroid camera which Mark had gotten awfully used to within these past few years and took multiple pictures of him eating street food and walking around under the stringed lights.

i need you right here

“Oh, that fountain looks kinda cool.” He exclaimed, walking out of frame.

“Mark you can’t just do that when I’m about to take your pict-”

“Yeah yeah, you can take pictures here instead. It looks prettier.” You both paused to admire the sculpting of the stone and the way the water and the coins at the bottom of the fountain glittered under the night lights. Mark sat down at the edge of the fountain after a bit. “Here, you can take them now.”

You took a few before handing of the camera to him so he could take a few of you. “Have you ever thought that this is where we’d be after all this time?” He asked after giving the camera back to you and joining you next to the fountain. “Like, back when we were freshmen, we didn’t know where we’d be within the next few years and here we are, together, three years later.”

“I think you’re jet-lagged, babe, but yeah I see what you mean.” You agreed, falling into the rhythm of the way the water spilled over from the top tier into the lower ones and out from there into the base at the bottom. “We went from clueless freshmen to young adults breaking out into the real world.”

You watched as Mark dug around in his pocket, pulling out a single coin and enclosing it in a fist. “I wish for things to stay the same- no, for us to- wait, no, I wish for us to remain happy together while facing all the challenges that our lives have to offer us.” With that, he tossed the coin into the fountain and you both followed it as it sunk to the floor.

He pulled another coin out and offered it to you. “I wish…” you began, trailing off as you thought of what more you could possibly say, “I wish for us to stay together for as long as time allows and that we will get to watch each other grow and fulfill whatever plans that life has for us.”

As your coin hit the bottom, Mark pulled you in for a hug. “I really do love you, you know.”

“Yeah I know.” You hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“Look at me, babe.” He whispered, causing you to glance up at him. Whatever you were about to say was cut off by Mark’s lips against yours.

It felt like nothing else mattered at that moment. Nothing except your lips against his, his arms around you, your hearts and souls connecting as one.

we go up

[imagine-your-love-story]

Thank you for encouraging a safe space on Tumblr. It might seem like basic courtesy to leave people be, leave them their comfort and creative freedom, but apparently it's not. As someone who has very questionable self ship poly dynamics, it's.. nice not being scared of seeing "Don't interact if this- dont interact if that" and then in danger of harrassment.

Please keep spreading these vibes of comfort and love - you're a great person whom we need a lot more of in the world wide web

You're very welcome, lovely! :) :) :)

Hoo boy. I have...soooo many thoughts on like....ALL of this. And this post is gonna get LONG because I've opened the can of worms and I'm lettin' it all out :P

The amount of bullying and negativity I've seen in the selfshipping community lately is very painful and disappointing to watch. Tumblr and fandom has always been somewhat of a cesspool but I had hoped that selfshipping was a little better.

I'm not seeing a positive community on a large scale right now.

There are some people who are shining little stars out there of course! But there's more hate being spread around than I can stomach.

I've spent Y E A R S researching and unlearning and pushing back against the psychological and emotional effects of manipulative behaviors like: blame, guilt, shame, and harassment.

I absolutely 100000% believe you can speak to people civilly and state your reasons why you think their behavior is damaging. Without telling them, "You are wrong. You are a bad person." Or otherwise making them feel shitty about themselves.

And I also believe that you CAN allow that person to say, "I don't agree with what you're saying" and you can still have normal interactions with that person without immediately shunning them and labeling them as a terrible person.

People BLOSSOM when they are showered in love, acceptance, and understanding. People are MUCH more willing to listen and heed what you have to say when you give them SPACE to see your point of view (or disagree with you and still accept them).

This culture on social media where people jump STRAIGHT to, "You're a HORRIBLE person because you do something I disagree with!" is, frankly, horrifying and a little disgusting.

Does this mean I condone negative and damaging behaviors?

No. Absolutely not.

But there seems to be this loss of perspective on what is considered "negative and damaging behaviors".

1. It's fiction. Fiction has NEVER been "clean". It's a place of freedom to discuss EVERYTHING.

2. You don't have to feel comfortable with everything being discussed in fiction. I'm not. If I don't like a self-shipper's content because it hits some trigger buttons for me...I don't follow their blog. Because that's my boundary and I have every right to it.

Do I send them messages saying, "You're a toxic person!"

Nope.

Do I comment on their ship that they love and say, "This makes me uncomfortable!"

Nope.

It's not my business.

Also: it’s fiction and there are MUCH bigger problems that require my energy than whether or not I should correct someone’s fictional ship.

Go save the ocean.

Go save the rainforest.

Go save the planet you live and breath on.

Fiction should not be making you angry enough to send hate mail to someone else. Full stop. That should never ever be a priority.

3. Some people engage in selfshipping "negative behaviors" as a way to cope with their trauma. We have no idea what a person has been through and we have no right to tell them that they should stop what they're doing when we do not know where they are on their journey of healing.

It hurts my heart so, so much when I receive messages from selfshippers like you, dear anon, who are TERRIFIED to share their love stories with their characters because they're afraid of being labeled/attacked/harassed by the community.

That's the community letting you down. That should NOT be happening and I'm so sorry you're feeling that way, lovely.

The ENTIRE point of selfshipping was to ESCAPE the people who criticized for shipping yourself with a character that you love. The foundation of selfshipping is that ANYTHING is possible!!! You are limitless!!!

And now people are policing what you can do??? That's...that completely obliterates the point of selfshipping. That's WHY we escaped to our own community!

I don't know if this video is available outside of the U.S., but I highly recommend, the Crappy Childhood Fairy's Youtube video on Cancel Culture. It's a great listen when you're navigating the emotional turmoil of social media culture.

So, if you're still reading after ALL OF THAT :P here are some key points about this blog and my philosophy when it comes to selfshipping:

This blog will always be a judgment free zone

Of course I have opinions! Of course we may disagree on something! But I won't judge you for it. You're allowed to do your own thang! ;)

I will never have a DNI.

If I feel an interaction is crossing into territory that isn't appropriate or acceptable, I'll say so. And if that doesn't work, I'll block and report. But I will never have a DNI on this blog.

Yes, I am an adult. So if minors don't feel comfortable following my blog, it's okay if they don't! I understand!

But I don't have a problem talking with minors because they are human beings and they may need support. I worked in Youth Services at a library for over two years. I know sometimes kids just want someone to talk about cool books and movies with and I'm 100% down for that 24/7 :)

Because this blog is all-ages friendly, I will never post 18+ content because - just like IRL - I make sure that I am mindful of the people around me. I may post some suggestive content that is tagged, but I try not to get too explicit.

I also don’t really think a DNI is necessary for me personally. Of course if I feel threatened by someone, I won’t interact with that person. But if a shipper is into content that I don’t like???? I don’t feel the need to say, “I will never interact with you!” That’s....exhausting. Besides, there are plenty of other things we can chat about! :)

I will always share f/os.

I know some people don't like to share and that's their boundary they can draw if they want to (no shade here!), but I've found that if I don't share, it's a very lonely experience. So I always share and I’m happy to interact if we have the same f/o :)

DMs are always open if you need a shoulder to lean on

If you need to dump or vent or whatever, my DMs will always be open so you can chat! It can feel weird, and maybe you'll feel bad because you won't know what to say!!!

That's okay :)

Even if all you want to do is vent and never reply, I'm happy to listen and offer any words of encouragement and support you need to hear! :)

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

A god's key to victory | Fyodor x Reader |

I got this idea whilst talking with another Fyodor simp. May mercy be spared on me for this piece.

A god's key to victory | Fyodor x reality-warping reader |

Disclaimers/ Warnings: Definitely a ton of mental manipulation. Obsessive themes. Depictions of abuse, controlling actions, violence, dystopia.

The moon shone elegantly, glimmering through the glass pane of your room. Off in the distance, there was life. Outside the glimmering stone walls of this cell-like room. The golden ring on your finger brought nothing but torment. At one point this choice had been easy. He’d finally broken you into submission. Even as the world submitted to his views, there lay a single person who could undo everything. If he touched you with a single finger, all of this would be gone. Fyodor had no room for the human emotion of love. Even though he did love you in his twisted way. He gave you everything, from jewels to fine silks. He teaches you his language and lets you see his rare moments of compassion.

This world was perfect, yet here you were broken. When had it happened? When had he stripped you of your free will? Your joy? Your liveliness? The smile he had no explanation for loving? The fight that made him fall evermore for you? He was a god now, a true god who dictated the crime and the punishment of this city. That had been it, hadn't it? The moment you used your ability so widely. The day he stripped this world of its filth. The day you became the goddess by his side. He had strained you too far. You seemed so numb now. Yet, it didn’t stop him from holding you on his lap and leaving pecks around your neck. You were all he needed in this world. If somebody touched you, he'd simply kill them. There were moments where your light returned, moments where he saw that glimmer of fight and joy.

It had started years ago, when you were naive and worked alongside the scum of this world. He’d met you in a cafe. He found the meeting rather... cliche. You had to work multiple jobs to pay for your place and support your life. He’d watched the way you avoided eye-contact with others. The way you so easily switched between personalities dependent on whom you were serving. You read through people so easily it was interesting to him. Nobody else seemed to notice that it wasn’t the real you. When you get to his table your eyes fell cold and distant. He had given you a mere smirk. You only needed one look to know how to warp his view. Your ability allowed you to push what you wanted onto anybody else. It warped the very fabric of the space you were around. He understood that within moments. He was after all a highly intelligent man.

When you begin to act smug and cold just how he was, he could only chuckle. You amused him. That alone was a dangerous feat; Gaining the interest of a man who thought of himself as a god. From then on he became a regular. He memorized what days you worked and the time. He’d sit there until your shift ended. With each of those passing days, he would find a way to talk to you. He observed the way you acted. Your eyes were the giveaway to it all. To almost everybody, you could pass for anybody. Yet, when he looked into your eyes, he found the light of a scared and naive child. He found it a fun game to change what he wanted each day. The confusion that passed your face, even if it only lasted a tenth of a second, filled his pride. You stumbled over what facade to act on.

It took a month for him to completely figure you out. When that happened you were doomed. He would begin his manipulation. He wanted you on his side. The things your ability could do for him were too enticing to pass up. He whispered soft words filled with false emotions. At least, that was what he called them at first. He never admitted it to himself, and so that’s what it was. It was all just a facade to gain your trust and snatch you away. To him, you were not a sinner like the others. You were something pure and unaware of the world's terror.

When he found you worked with the very agency that continued to stunt his plans, he became agitated. It was a minor setback. The one person he knows rivals his intelligence sat among that agency. His name was Dazai and to his luck, the two of you seemed rather… close. He would joke around with you a lot. That pink tint he had grown accustomed to forcing onto your cheeks would pass at his words. It grew an emotion he hated. This emotion wanted you for himself.

So, the next time he saw you, he began to ask you about your views on this world. Just as he had predicted you were nothing but innocent. You never noticed how you showed the real version of yourself to him. Laughing after work hours. He had started as a stranger, but now you trusted him enough to go drinking. You held up a glass with a rather bright smile. Still, unaware of his complex. He’d watch you drink and memorize your reactions to every little movement he made. “What do you think about the world?” he would need this sliver of information before he began his little game of cat and mouse. How far would he have to change your views to align with his?

“My views? Huh, I guess I haven't thought about it before.” you would laugh looking over to him. It was the first time you made real eye-contact. It felt so warm despite how cold his eyes looked. It sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It shouted he was dangerous, yet you didn’t look away and continued to answer him. “I guess, I see the world as a scale. A world with evil and good? I think as the world is now. The scale is tipped in the darkness.” Fyodor would nod as if he were agreeing with you. Even if he didn’t, he wanted to make you feel safe and comfortable in his arms.

People are easier to control when they trust the person who is trying to gain control. If you opened up, he could sway and twist your own words to fit his own needs. “Then what is your ideal world?” he would often ask this question.

You would think for a moment before smiling with a hopeful glint in your eyes. “A world without suffering and pain! A world that’s just a bit less violent. It would be even on the scale. Enough evil to keep order but enough good to keep the peace. Things like the seven sins would be needed but, things like violence would be less frequent. People would feel safe walking in the night. Murders would be 1 in a million of chance. I want a peaceful world.” you would answer him honestly, and he’d hide his smirk. It would be so easy to twist your thoughts. The Armed Detective Agency stood in his way though. You believed being there would help the world; Even though that agency was filled with vile scum.

He’d begun to show you the truth, his truth. At first, he’d only suggest it. The suggestion that this violence was brought on by ability users. At first, you'd stick your tongue out and point out how you were one. When he made the assumption it was too early to begin that part of his mind game, he set his sights on bringing you closer. He wanted a step up from friends. He wanted to be able to touch you. So he slowly began to make his role in your life more prominent. “Your work, do you have a thing for anybody?” he would not be subtle with this.

When you told him you appreciate your friends there but, found you could never really love them because nobody else knew this you. He had thought you acted like this around your co-workers. Dazai could see through your ability, but it appeared that was not enough. You didn’t need an ability to pretend. That pulled his interest more. By now there was no going back. He had you in his grasp, and he would never let you go. “I don’t like anybody in that way.” when those words left your lips he would wrap his arms around you and lift your chin with a smug smirk. He’d let go immediately to watch your confusion. He would leave the bar to make sure that the moment kept its hold on you.

Just as he predicted you were distracted at work. And within the next two months, you began to trust him. Your co-workers knew nothing about this man. He had asked you to keep him from people he didn’t know. He lied about what he did for a living. He told you his work involved the government and telling anybody you knew him put himself and you in danger. So you were vague when your friends called you out on daydreaming or letting your attention drift. They asked, but you shrugged it off. When it got too much you simply came out with it. “I think I fell in love.” These words shocked even yourself. The faces of your coworkers were distant as you smiled to yourself.

He would only smirk, waiting for you that night at the bar, as if he knew nothing. He’d tease you. His body growing too close for comfort. He’d wrap strands of your hair in his fingers. Whisper little things that made you question yourself and your relationship with him. It took two months before he noticed even the smallest eye-contact would turn your face into that beautiful shade of rose. He’d lean down and finally give you what you had been wishing for. A soft peck on the lips. When you squealed in response he would snicker. “Something wrong, little mouse?” he would ask you the question waiting for your reaction. When you grew more embarrassed and attempted to hide your face, his dominance slipped from the facade he had been using around you. The glow of his eyes shaking you to your core. “It’s only natural to be so… adoring over a god.” That was the first time you had heard Fyodor call himself a god. If he did that in the start you'd have completely tossed him aside. Yet it was hypnotizing now that you had already fallen into his grasps. He always got what he wanted. Right now that was you and your ability.

The next step began in hints and murmurs. He would bring up your ideal world and put the question into your head. “What do you think makes that scale tip into evil?” when you respond with violence he’d nod and act like he was thinking. He was tricking you with terrifying ease. “This violence? Who causes it?” you would tilt your head before the answer peeked in. The one time he had mentioned abilities being at fault consuming your reason. You would argue in your mind until the answer you normally went for came to you.

“Violence is made from suffering.” you would smile and shift in your seat. You never initiated contact with him. You were too nervous too. He would hold back his agitation and nod understandingly. His hand cupping your chin to pull you to his lips. He was always rough with you; He knew how it affected you.

You kept it a secret from the agency for a while. Dazai eventually figured it out and asked if you were seeing somebody. You had only nodded and walked out to leave for the night.

It took a handful of weeks, but he did crack your mind eventually. It took some nudges, but he got you to start taking in his views. He would run a thumb over your hand and whisper things about the mafia. Like how if they didn’t have the powerful ability users they had, the crimes they committed would be punished. It would drive you to rethink your views. “So without abilities violence would be less? No, violence would be punished easier? That would lead to a decrease in crime from fear of being caught.” you would mumble your thoughts aloud unknowingly. He got pleasure from seeing you drift towards what he believed.

The next obstacle came ripping you from your current living style. You hadn’t noticed how your every free hour was spent by him. He did his work with you so sneakily, you didn’t see how you no longer had control of your life. He could get you to stay from work with a simple strand of words. He pulled you to his home one night. It was rather large compared to what you had thought. He began to show you sides of himself you haven't noticed. The sides that would have repulsed you now dragged you into him. Once you made a permanent residence in his home he began to talk about his views. You took them in and listened. Your chats were normally short. You took care of him. He smirked at how your dependence on him began to grow. You came home exhausted, and he’d plant you on his lap. His hand massaging your tired muscles.

He had to work rather hard to get you to leave the agency, but it happened. Now that you viewed ability users in the same light he did, all he had to do was show you the darker sides of your friends. Dazai’s past seemed to shatter you. You were betrayed and hurt. Fyodor did not waste a moment, he rebuilt your shattered heart around himself. He whispered how you only needed him and nobody else. You fell, trapped in that web.

At some point, you began to see him as your savior. He was the only person you trusted and didn't feel revolted by. You had stopped interacting with the outside world. There were times when you got annoyed with him and would scold him for forgetting to take meds, or stay warm. You found yourself smiling and laughing at his side. He showed you his co-workers eventually. When he had to go on trips he made sure they kept an eye on you. You could always call him if you felt down without him.

A year into this he made the move to make you permanently his. A ring on your finger. Something that made you smile with joy whenever you looked down at it. He began calling you his goddess from then on. You felt like you meant something to this world. For the first time, you were yourself without any insecurities.

He would never admit it, but that smile sent an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. He never laid a hand on you, but his words did enough. He so easily controlled you. If you displeased him he only needed to ignore you or give you a stern and cold glare. Those actions would have you on your knees, tears falling, and pleas for forgiveness leaving your lips. You never noticed how abusive this was. It may not be physically abusive, but this thing you had with your husband was most definitely mental abuse. Yet, you turned a blind eye. You never noticed. You were so starved for his love. You did anything for him.

So, when the fateful day came you pushed yourself just to achieve that perfect world. You were the key to his ascension. The key to a perfect world. The people who you once called friends came into your home threatening to take away the life that made you happy. They called you a traitor, yet Dazai took pity on how easily you had been manipulated. He could have prevented this had he seen through you. It was too late now and you’d need to be in rehab once they caught Fyodor. When those sounds reached your ears you could only panic.

Your heart raced as you ran to Fyodor. You clung onto him like a life-line. When they saw this everybody shook their heads in a clear disappointment. With riffles targeting you, Fyodor could only smirk. He looked down at you, leaning down, he kissed your cheek and whispered. “Warp this city to paradise. Can you do that for me, my little goddess?” he spoke with a false softness in his voice.

You looked to Dazai with fear, but when you blinked he saw no difference. The aim lights that had been on you and your husband shifted onto the agency. You had used your ability. Dazai knew he had to touch you to fix this. Fyodor also knew that so, he placed you behind him. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he merely smirked. “How do you plan to get over here Dazai?” he taunted before warning shots echoed and the agency members dropped to their knees. “We win.” he gave a final kick to dazai’s face. When they were cuffed and pulled away, Fyodor finally turned back to you.

You shook with fear and confusion, but the moment he wrapped you in his arms you were safe. You held onto him snuggling into his chest.

It took you two days to completely envelope Yokohama in your ability. Anybody who entered would fall victim. When you were done you fell, exhausted.

Even as the realization of what you had done enveloped you, there was no reaction. Fyodor found it upsetting at times. You were numb so often yet, in those fleeting moments where life poked in, he adored it.

This world looked perfect even though it was far from it. If anything this paradise you had made was a nightmare. There was peace and comfort; People were safe and pure. The only true evil that balanced the good of this scale were Fyodor, the demon, and his fallen angel; The god and goddess of this new paradise. He had most of the ability users wiped out, but the few who had held positions before your ability was used were kept alive.

“Look at our world, isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, whilst holding you on his lap. You merely nodded a soft, joyful glimmer appearing in your eyes before it left, just as suddenly as it appeared.

“I love you.” you would whisper the words, hoping to hear it back from his lips.

This once he thought, he’d say it just this once. “I love you too, my little mouse turned goddess.” that brought a smile to your lips. A real smile, one he hadn’t seen in ages.

[kareniliana]

Marcel: Crazy Ex Drama

A//N: Hey people! I’ve come up with a schedule. I will write as much as I can over the week. In between class work or classes and tutor sessions. Then edit and post them on the weekends. Imma try this week to do that. And we’ll go from there.

If y'all want to request anything, my inbox is open.

Oh I almost forgot, this one shot mentions abusive relations with drug using and cheating. I am in no way trying to romanticize abuse or anything. I just started writing and this came out. I do apologize if I insult anyone, please call me out on it. And I will correct it or take it down. I truly mean no harm here.

xx Karebear 💛🧸

You were visiting New Orleans for a girls trip with two of your best friends, Eva and Lucy. You went college with them, lived with them when you first graduated and now you live hours away from each other. Not seeing each other often put a strain on your friendship so you came up with the brilliant idea that you would visit New Orleans for a girls trip. It’s perfect, you’ll drink your liver away.

The first two nights visiting were a blur, you weren’t sure which bars you were at and which you hadn’t visited yet. But for the third day, you were going to keep it low-key but fun.

At lunch, you and your friends sat at a bar talking to a nice blonde bartender. She informed you she had a psych degree and your friends didn’t stop bothering her until y'all left. But she enjoyed the company and psychoanalyzing. You however was busy making eyes with a beautiful chocolate man across the restaurant. His smile caught your eyes, it was genuine and brightening. 

Finally she turned to look at you, “what about you? Any guy problems?”

“Oh does she ever, she just got out of a very abusive relationship.” Your drunk friend started, earning a deep sigh from you. 

“He cheated, lied, did drugs, verbally abuse me and sometimes he would hit me. I left him, filed a restraining order- I got out.” You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

You stuck around to drink and chill, the vibe in this bar was immaculate. You had forced yourself, to stop looking for the man. Wanting him to come to your, which he did. He placed his hand on the seat next to yours.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked, his deep voice made you want to melt.

“No, go for it.” You smiled, he pulled the seat out sitting with you.

“Cami, can I get another and,” He looked to you, “Anything she wants.”

 You caught his gaze, holding eye contact. “Uh, I'll have what he's having.”

“Alright, two bourbons.” She grabs another glass and serves you the liquid. Your friends and cami seeing what’s happening.

“I’m Marcel.” He handed his hand out for you to shake, you smiled gently placing your hand in his.

“Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, and on behalf of my beautiful city, welcome to New Orleans. I am more than happy to show you around. Say tonight, at 7. I can meet you or pick you up, whatever you choose.” He was smooth.

Cami placed the cups down in front of you both,“You can pick me up at the Hotel just down the street.” You pointed down the road to your hotel, the only hotel within a mile radius.

“Alright.” He smiled brightly, his smile making you almost giggle like a school girl.

He lifted his drink, signally for you to follow suit. He raised his glass, waiting for you. You clashed your drinks together, taking a sip.

“Tell me, why New Orleans?”Marcel asked as you both set the drinks down.

“Oh well, I hadn’t seen my best friends, Eva and Lucy,” You motioned to the girls,”In maybe 8 months. We had spent nearly five years living together.”

Eva leaned over, “Now we’re all hours away from each other, we don’t get much time to visit.”

“It’s mandatory for us to go on a girls trip at least every month.” You added, taking another sip, knowing Lucy will butt in next. Marcel just watching the vibe between you three, he thought it looked like the human way of a family. Which you were, Eva and Lucy are your family.

“But someone” Lucy points to you behind your head, “got into a - Okay! I think that’s enough from you two.” You interrupted her, you were okay talking to women about your abusive relationship, but when it came to telling men- let alone someone you just met and are interested in- you weren’t comfortable yet. And you didn’t want your friend to unload that kind of baggage. 

However, Marcel already knows. You have no knowledge of the supernaturals in the world, you didn’t know that Marcel already heard you talk about it. He heard your heartbeat rise when Lucy began to talk about it. You were nervous, which he understood. And he couldn’t help but want you more. He wanted to protect you.

“Okay fine, we’ll just see you back at the hotel later. We’re gonna go find something to do.” Eva gathered herself and Lucy, who seemed to be pretty drunk already. 

Saying their goodbyes and your focus was back to the present.

Marcel placed his hand on yours, You looked to him. “Whatever Lucy was going on about, I don’t want you to worry about it. Whatever it is, you can tell me or not. I understand.” 

You smiled, you could see it in his face. You knew he knew.“Thank you, but something tells me you already know?”

He sighed, “I’m only guessing it wasn’t something good.”

“He was abusive, a cheater, and an addict. I thought I could change him, help him. He was good, until he wasn’t. But I did all the steps. I documented, went to friends and police. I got a restraining order, I moved, got a new job, a place all by myself. I’m doing better now, that’s what is important.” You explained, feeling accomplished and grateful you were able to get out. 

You were proud of yourself and made progress moving on from everything.

Behind you, in a corner, a vampire calls Marcel away. Marcel signally to give him a minute.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n. Thats good! How about another drink?” You nodded, as he signaled for Cami.

“I’m sorry but will you excuse me for a second, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom for a quick second. Don’t go anywhere just yet, okay?” He asked, getting up his seat.

“Oh yeah no, go for it.” You smiled and his hand brushed your shoulder.

Cami comes back with your refill, “Im sorry I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m really happy you’re in a good place right now.”

“Oh no it’s okay, you basically already knew. Minor details. Thank you.”

“Y’know Marcel is a really great guy,” She began to make a drink for someone across the bar. “He looks out for the tourists and locals, keeps them safe.”

“So this city, is his or?” Cami laughs, if only you knew.

“He’s very influential here, stick with him. You’ll be safe.” Cami walks off, serving the drink she just made.

You look at the menu for desserts, sipping your bourbon. Then Marcel comes back, sitting down without a word.

“Is the pie any good Marcel-” You turn to look to Marcel but see Jason instead. Instantly you sprung up to your feet, pushing your stool back. Jason reached out for your arm, squeezing it harder than he thought he would.

The sound of the stool being pushed caught Cami’s attention, watching from the end of the bar. Seeing the disgust for him on your face, your body language stiff but grounded and unwavering.

Just as she was about to go to you, Marcel walked back in from the back. Vampire drama dealt with. “Cami, what’s up?”

“I think that's her ex.” Cami’s eyes never leaving you.

Jason grabbed you, keeping you there.”Wait, please just hear me out.”

You looked at his hand squeezing you, it began to hurt. “Let. Me. Go.” Looking back up at him, his eyes red teary. He was high.

He scoffed, “No, just hear me out.”

“I have a restraining order dude! Let me go!” You raised your voice, catching Marcels attention. Swiftly he walked to you two.

“I do believe she told you to let her go.” Marcel intervened, one hand placed gently on your back.

“This doesn’t concern you!” He belted at Marcel, digging his fingers deeper. you helped in pain. Marcel took a hold of Jasons hand, squeezing it with his vampire strength. Jasons claws unlatched from you, it will definitely bruise.

“I called the cops, Marcel.” Cami came to you with an ice pack.

Marcel then tried to escort Jason outside but Jason began to fight back. Falling back and into other people on the way out. When finally Marcel sucker punched him, knocking hims unconscious.

After the police took my statement and pictures of the already bruised arm, they arrested him and took him to county jail.

Marcel sits in the seat the officer was in, placing two cups of bourbon. “I called your friends, they should be here any minute. I’m so sorry that happened. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you. Really.” You smiled, chuckling after a moment of silence. “We just met and we had a crazy ex boyfriend situation before our first date!”

Marcel laughed with you. He smiled at you brightly, somehow making you smile just as big. You reach for his hand, holding it.

“I still expect yo take you out, no crazy ex drama will get in the way of our date.” Marcel said, earning a laugh from you.

~~

Again I mean no harm with this imagine.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 5

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

This chapter in particular is dedicated to @foxyjwls007 . If I'm going to torture you with something, it's not going to be a cliffhanger. I'm going out of town for two weeks, so you get an update early since I won't be able to post while I'm away. Thank you for the encouragement.

In case you missed it: Chapter 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 5

“Miss? Miss? Hey, are you okay?”

A hand grips Andy’s arm, firm but polite, and she jerks to, almost losing her footing. It’s been a long day already, and she still has two hours before she can go home, shower, and put her feet up for a little while before karaoke at the Brass Monkey starts up.

Maybe I can even fit in a nap, she thinks excitedly. But first, gotta wake up and make it through the rest of my shift.

Of course, if she hadn’t been tossing and turning all night from a crazy dream, she wouldn’t be as tired as she is now, but that’s neither here nor there. And it doesn’t help that she can’t even remember the stupid dream. It was really long, though, and there was blood and books and…someone...

“Can I get a refill over here?”

One hour, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds to go. She can do this.

The minutes crawl, though, and it’s all she can do to stay on her feet and focus. The lunch crowd has long since thinned, and she���s about to ask if she can maybe take off a little early when the door chimes, and she catches the tail end of the entering customers’ conversation.

“Could you at least consider putting something green on your plate? Like, ever? Broccoli won’t kill you.”

“I’ve already told you, I’m getting breakfast since you didn’t wake me up early enough to eat a decent one this morning. Pancakes, bacon, and coffee, which, I might add, grows on a tree, so it counts as a plant. That’s balanced enough for me. You like broccoli; knock yourself out, Jolly Green.”

“Sam isn’t green, Dean. Is your vision faulty? Perhaps we should get your eyes examined. Or you could try carrots along with the broccoli. Carrots are supposed to improve vision.”

No. No, no, no, she thinks, her mind whirling frantically. It was a dream, they can’t be here. This is...this is how it started, and...

She turns, and there they are, Sam and Dean dolled up in their clean, pressed feds suits and Cas looking just as rumpled and bewildered as she suddenly remembers. They seat themselves at an empty table in her section, but any thoughts of leaving early evaporated the second she heard their voices.

Every moment of the dream, every minute of those four weeks comes screaming back, cramming each terror-laden, tension-ridden second into her mind so fast she actually does stumble and has to grab the back of a nearby booth to keep from hitting the worn-out linoleum.

“It...hasn’t happened yet.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? Hey, hey, hold on there. Are you okay?”

Then Sam’s hand is supporting her elbow, helping her straighten up, and she looks up into his concerned eyes, unable to express how glad she is just to see him breathing. Behind him, Dean and Cas are arguing about something trivial, wonderfully animated and alive and completely unaware of her.

“I’m sorry, hun, it’s just been a long shift. Gimme a minute to grab some waters and menus, and I’ll be right over.” Sam accepts her flimsy excuse at face value, and why wouldn’t he? He hasn’t lived with her for the better part of a month, hasn’t saved her life once, hasn’t tried to save the world with her. He doesn’t know her at all.

Why should he question a strange waitress in a strange diner who says she’s had a long day? He’s met hundreds of women just like her, maybe thousands, and he’s got no reason to question a completely legitimate statement.

She rushes into the back to find the coldest water possible to splash on her face. Her reflection gapes back at her from the staff bathroom mirror as the enormity of her situation begins to dawn on her.

Why? Why is this happening? Either she actually lived through those weeks and is somehow getting a do-over, or she dreamed the whole thing and is getting a shot to fix things from this end. But why? And how?

How in the hell?

Think, Andrea, think. It was real. It will be real. It hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t screwed everything up yet. You have to fix this. But how? How can I fix it when I screwed everything up so very badly last time?

Just...think. Think. Start small. Try to stop it before it happens. But...the cult. Crowley said they were real. They found me before, they’ll find me again. I could talk to Sam and Dean and Cas about what's going to happen. They’ve been through enough insanity in their lives that I actually have a pretty good shot at convincing them.

She stares into the mirror, racking her brain for every helpful detail she learned during her time with the Winchesters.

They're already investigating all the break-ins hereabouts; those were the cultists looking for me in the first place. Then they find me, take me, bleed me, and start the apocalypse. The boys could stop the ritual before it even happens.

Her reflection in the mirror frowns, unconvinced the solution could possibly be that easy.

But the literature, the books, it’s all still out there. Someone else could find it, could come after me. My blood is the problem. I’m the key. As long as I’m around, someone could still use me to end everything. Crowley can still use me to get to them. Think. You’ve got to actually stop everything and save them this time.

Her eyes widen as realization dawns. The world can’t make it without the Winchesters. There’s only one way out of this.

Fifteen minutes later, she sets a fresh green salad in front of Sam before dropping a towering stack of steaming pancakes in front of Dean.

“Fresh pot of coffee coming off in two, be right back with your refills. Need any more butter or syrup, hun? How ‘bout a couple of extra pieces of bacon on the house?”

“Don’t encourage him, please,” Sam groans. Dean slaps his brother on the back of the head, sending Sam’s coiffed hair into a tizzy of disarray. Sam swipes back at his brother, who waves off Sam’s attempts at retaliation like he’s swatting a fly.

“You shut your pie hole. She said free bacon. That makes her a queen.” He turns his most charming smile on her, glancing down at her name tag then back up to meet her gaze squarely. The crinkles around his eyes deepen with his grin. “Andrea, is it?”

“Andy,” she corrects automatically, and she can’t help her answering smile. He throws her a wink that clearly says he knows he’s cheesy but it's all part of his irresistible charm.

She doesn’t disagree.

“You are a goddess, Andy. I love you, and you need to know that.”

“You don’t,” she says, only just managing to keep her voice and smile level, “but you could.” His answering laugh sends a twinge through her chest, and if she clenches her jaw a little around her smile, she figures she’s entitled.

When the men finally finish eating, she offers a slip of paper to Dean, while Sam pretends he isn’t rolling his eyes.

“There’s a karaoke competition at the Brass Monkey tonight. Winner gets tab on the house for a week. Interested in maybe meeting up there around ten or so? We could have a drink, sing a song, and see where the rest of the night takes us.”

He grins and takes the slip from her with sure fingers. She’s certain he has her number memorized before the paper even retains his prints, but he makes a special show of tucking it safely into his pocket.

“Dean, do you think it wise to allow yourself to be so distracted when we’re in the middle of an investigation?”

And without even realizing it, Cas gives her the perfect opening.

“Oh, you boys investigating all the break-ins hereabouts? Were they too much for our local boys to handle? Listen, hun, my friend was one of the ladies whose house got broken into. If you want to stick around for a few minutes, I can fill you in on what I know and send you her way. Would that help?”

Castiel’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and he is clearly pleased with his first-rate investigating skills. “That would help immensely, Miss Andrea. Thank you.”

She can’t believe her luck at such a perfect lead-in, and she runs with it.

“Now that I think about it, the shop next door mentioned something about their alarm getting tripped a few nights in a row. Maybe I could talk to your friend while you two check it out? And I’ll see you tonight, Dean? Ten o’clock?”

Dean’s grin softens, and she can see the faintest tinge of red along his cheeks. She didn’t notice it the first time around, and now she wishes she’d paid more attention. Then the brothers leave, and she’s alone with the angel. ...

Chapter 6

[hotchley]

mayhem

 I low-key hate the ending and everything from the hospital scene onwards but we move. It's now past midnight, I haven't proofread it, so please forgive any and all errors because I actually cannot look at this any longer. Err, I hope it lives up to what everyone wanted!

Also, this got ridiculously long. It’s 8608 words

Trigger Warnings: bombings, canon-typical violence, lots of blood, hospitals, spinal injuries that result in the use of a cane and wheelchair, canonical minor character deaths, serious injury of a main character, what i would describe as unhealthy thoughts about death

read on ao3!

The first thing Aaron noticed when he opened his eyes was that it was dark. It was so incredibly dark, which doesn't make any sense because all the streetlights were on when they had been leaving the building.

They. Because he had been with Kate. He'd been telling her everything was going to be fine. That they would catch their unsubs, and she didn't need to worry about being reassigned or losing anyone's respect. But that if they did want to reassign her, there would always be a place for her at Quantico.

She had smiled, and the panging in his stomach that seemed to get worse every time a member of his team so much as looked at him receded slightly. She had bumped his shoulder as they walked back to the car, and it had felt just like the old days, when they'd spent a month liaising together.

He remembers that month perfectly. She was amazing, captivating an entire room with nothing more than a look. Confidence radiated from her, drawing everyone in and commanding their attention. But she'd been so kind. So gentle. Never once teasing him for his own awkward nature. Kate had encouraged him to phone Haley at every opportunity, saying love was a beautiful thing to witness.

Kate met Haley and the two got on like best friends. After she first transferred over, the three of them had gone for dinner a few times, just to help her get settled and remind her that she did in fact, have some friends in the area.

When the two of them joked about their similarities, it had made him blush, but laugh nonetheless. When Emily Prentiss said it, it made him feel nauseous. He knew she didn't respect him, and still resented him for the way he'd acted- even though he had been right- but to assume that he'd cheated had cut him deeper than any of her previous insults.

He was getting distracted. He needed to work out where Kate was. Because they were on a case. It had made him and Derek argue. No, it wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He would try and remember it later. For now, he needed to raise his head, and find Kate.

Hotch didn't know why he was on the ground. It didn't make any sense, and when he lifted his head, the world started spinning so fast, he let out a low whine of pain and let it drop onto the tarmac of the road once more. He thought the fact that nothing changed should have concerned him more than it did.

There was still no sign of Kate.

"Kate," he whispered. He cleared his throat. "Kate," he shouted again, flinching when it sounded too loud. It echoed around him, like a schoolground taunt because Kate wasn't there. Had she left him? No, that wasn't who she was.

He was starting to panic. He tried to stand, but his legs weren't cooperating, and he didn't know where he was or what had happened. There was nobody to ground him. In moments like these, he would usually seek out JJ. She would take his hand for a few moments, convince him he was doing enough.

But JJ didn't trust him either. Not enough to tell him she was pregnant. Seeing Will had been a comfort, because it meant that there was someone for her to turn to, but he had seen her face just before she announced her pregnancy.

She hadn't wanted to say anything. And when he looked in her eyes, he saw the same nervous excitement he'd seen in Haley's when she came out of the doctor's office. Adrian Bale had killed six agents only days later. He'd been lucky to walk away. He still visited Jacqueline's grave every year, wishing he could tell her in person that his son was named Jack.

"Kate," he whispered again, this time to himself. It would be his mantra. She would find him. She would. She had to. It had to be her. Nobody else. Only her.

Almost like his wishing summoned her, she came running over. There was blood in her hair, and it seemed to be pooling around her ear. He didn't want to know whether or not it was hers, but it couldn't have been anyone else's. There was more splattered across her clothes.

The sight of her made his heart calm. But the blood made him panic. He twisted around as much as he could, and saw the fire, now reduced down to a few embers and ashes as the night gave little fuel, caused by the car. The same car they were supposed to be driving to the place that the rest of his team would be.

"Kate," he tried again.

She shook her head. "Don't speak. Don't try and speak. You need to save your energy. Okay?"

"What- what happened?"

She pushed his hair off his forehead, the gesture so familiar and foreign at the same time. Haley had always done that to him, when they were laying on the sofa, in the early hours of the morning, when they were eating. He winced at the thought of her.

"I don't know. I think there was a bomb. No, I don't think, there was. But we're okay. We're going to be okay."

"Do you promise?" he choked out. His ears were ringing, and he didn't know where the blood was coming from, but it didn't seem to be stopping.

Kate's eyes drifted down to his trousers. The blood had stained them beyond repair. She didn't respond, and that set of alarm bells. Long ago, Kate had vowed that if she thought she was going to lie to him, she just wouldn't answer.

"Kate?"

"Do you know where the blood is coming from?" she asked, voice shaking.

He shook his head. He wanted to ask what had happened to her, but his mouth couldn't form the words. It was like they were frozen on his tongue. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

The smile she gave him was fond. "That's okay Aaron. But please stop talking. You need to save your energy for your team. Because as soon as the bleeding stops enough, we're going to find a way to them. That I can promise."

"Surprised you like them," he said, before he could stop himself.

She shrugged. "I mean, it was nothing I haven't heard before. I need you to work with me here. Lift yourself slightly, then I can turn you around, and we can work out exactly how to get you better," she said, hands ready to move him.

He did it, surprised when it didn't hurt him. In fact, it didn't do anything. He was momentarily stunned by the fact that he had indeed turned himself over, because his legs just felt numb.

Almost like he hadn't moved them at all.

A chill ran down his spine and he tried to turn around again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't move his legs. He refused to believe it though, and he looked down, trying to shake one of his legs out. It didn't move. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't move.

"No," he cried.

Kate hadn't said a word. She was just staring at him. "Oh Aaron. I'm so sorry. I'm- I am so, so sorry. None of this was meant to happen. Not to you."

She needed him to be strong. So he tried his best to crack a grin. "It was going to be one of us. I'm glad it was me. Too many people need you for you to be the one lying here."

That made her laugh. "Sure. Me, the single woman from England that sounds like the bloody queen and is hated by most of the field office for all of those reasons, and you, the leader of the BAU, who has a wife and a son."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that his team hated him. Or that his wife had left, and his son would likely only have fuzzy memories of him.

She cleared her throat. "Look, I didn't actually manage to move you properly. And you're not moving your legs, probably because you're exhausted. So let me look properly. We're probably overreacting," she said, but her voice sounded shaky.

He nodded. It was so difficult to keep his eyes open. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he knew Kate would hate that. So he kept his them as wide open as he could, taking comfort in the warmth of her hands on his body.

There was silence as she turned him, and when he looked up at her, there were tears falling down her cheeks.

He knew almost immediately what she meant. The blood was coming from his legs. The bomb had damaged them. Badly. So badly that there was a chance he would never walk again. He would never be a field agent. Never lift Jack, never dance with Penelope. Never reach for the gun on his left leg. But she still hadn't said anything. Maybe there was hope that they were just overreacting.

"Tell me," he said.

She opened and closed her mouth. "I don't have enough medical knowledge to say anything Aar. I don't. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, but I'm putting pressure on the wound. Can you feel it? The pressure I'm putting on it?"

He shook his head, and it was that small thing that broke the dam. The tears that he had been fighting escaped, streaming down his cheeks and he tasted salt on his mouth as they dripped onto his shirt, doing nothing to wash away the blood.

"I don't feel anything. I haven't since I came round. Kate, do you think I'm going to die?"

"No. No, you're not going to die because I'm going to save you. I promise."

That made him feel safe. Kate Joyner never broke a promise. He nodded, trying to ignore the pain in his head and the ringing in his ears. But then he paused. The pain meant he was alive and not completely broken.

"Okay, all I need to do is, I need to, maybe if I," Kate murmured to herself.

Hotch tried to look at her. "Your voice is really soothing. Did you know? I think you should read books to people. You could make a lot of money doing it. And then you could be one of these people that everyone says has a lovely voice."

She let out a slight laugh. "Thank you Aaron."

"Spencer- you know the baby one- he could probably tell me why exactly I find your voice as soothing as I do. He's a genius. Well, he doesn't think intelligence can be quantified, but he has an IQ of 187, a reading speed of 20,000 words a minute and three Phds."

"I know, you told me, remember?" she said, moving his hair off his face again. All his movement had messed it up again, and it was getting in his eyes.

"He thinks I'm a narcissist," Aaron blurted out.

"I'm sure he doesn't," Kate said, slightly absent-mindedly as she tried to work out why Aaron's voice sounded so far away. When she pressed a hand to her ear, it came away red. And wet. The blood hadn't stopped. She swallowed and wiped her hand on her skirt. She would be fine, but if she didn't sort out Aaron soon, he wouldn't be.

"He said so. When he was kidnapped. He said that he chose me to die, because I was a narcissist. At the time, I didn't think he meant it, but now I think he did. I mean, he was right, wasn't he? I was so excited about seeing you again that I put myself above them."

"No Aaron, you didn't," she said.

"JJ thinks I'm a bully. Emily said I don't trust women as much as men. Dave wasn't on the team at that point, but he probably thinks I'm a dick as well. But I just- Kate, I know they don't like me, but why would they assume we slept together? Do I really seem like someone who would cheat on their wife?"

He was losing a dangerous amount of blood. It coated her hands, mixed with her own and for the first time, she wasn't completely sure she knew how to save him.

"No. You don't. You never have. Aaron, the blood isn't stopping. What am I supposed to do?"

The desperation in her voice stopped him from thinking about how, even after all this time, the team's perception of him had never changed. Not after he saved them all from getting fired. Not after he looked Emily in the eye and told him he wanted her on that plane with him.

She had just told him that he wasn't human.

"Aaron," Kate pleaded. "Please."

She wasn't a field agent. She had always been a desk agent. Always. The only reason she'd been out with them was because he had asked her. The only reason she'd gone down to the building with him was because he had wanted to talk to her, away from everyone else and their judgemental stares.

He had told her everything was going to be fine. And she had told him that she already knew that, because he was there.

"I don't know Kate. I don't. Maybe I can help you with your injuries? My hands aren't useless."

They were shaking though. He was beginning to feel very cold.

She knew her ear was not okay. And she was almost certain that there were wounds that he couldn't see all over her body. But he couldn't feel his legs, his eyes were flicking to various spots around the area and his body was losing too much blood. So for the first time, she lied to him.

"My injures will be fine. What we need to focus on is you."

Ambulance sirens pierced the air. She knew they wouldn't come. In fact, they had specifically instructed that no emergency services were to go anywhere near the injured parties until the area was secured. It had been her idea.

But that had been before it was Aaron laying on the ground.

"Help me!" she screamed, hating the way her voice wavered. She was a woman. She had spent most of her life fighting to keep emotion from clouding her tone, and here she was, sobbing over a man that knew how to read people like a child's book.

Nobody came. She wouldn't stop trying though.

"Please! Help me! He's a federal agent. He works for the BAU. Help me!"

Hotch grabbed her hand and she looked down at him. "They aren't coming. Remember?"

"They have to," she whispered. "They just have to. I'm not strong enough to save you myself. I need help. I need you to tell me what to do."

"Oh Kate. You're so strong. So much stronger than you know."

"Aar, tell me what I'm supposed to do."

He opened his mouth. Then he closed it. "I don't know. I don't- we learnt what you're meant to do, and I remember trying to save one of the agents but I couldn't. I couldn't do it."

"It's okay," she whispered, looking up at the people in the distance. "Please help us! He's losing too much blood and I can't make it stop."

"Kate. They won't do it. It's one life versus several."

"But it's your life," she said, hating how childish she sounded.

He shrugged, then winced.

"Hey. I was nearby, and I heard all the screaming. I'm not a medical professional, but I couldn't just walk away. Is there anything- literally, anything- that would help either of you?" a man said.

Kate's jaw dropped. If she was a better person, she would tell him to walk away, just in case. But she wasn't. And he was just one person. Probably a college student, trying to be a hero. Not worth hurting.

Then again, she never thought her and Aaron would be worth hurting either.

"Help me move him onto his side. The blood isn't stopping, and we need to work out why, okay?" she said, making a decision she hoped she would live to regret.

The man nodded. Something about him seemed off, but she shrugged the thought away. She wasn't a profiler and Aaron was suffering. If someone was willing to help, she was going to take it. Aaron always said she was a good woman. He was wrong.

"Okay. I'm Sam," he said.

"Kate."

"Does my team know?" Hotch whispered.

That was strange. She thought he would ask for Haley first. And then his team.

"I'm sure they'll find out soon enough."

Morgan came running over a few minutes later. Her and Sam hadn't been able to do anything. And then it turned out he was the one that had bombed them. She had wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in her stomach. And then she had wanted to run after him, if only so she didn't have to watch as Aaron faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to open his mouth. Morgan had stopped her. She was too injured.

"I feel cold," Aaron whispered.

"What?"

"I feel really cold."

That wasn't like him. He was, inside and out, one of the warmest people she knew. But the shivers of his body were undeniable. For a moment, she panicked, and then she shrugged her blazer off, ignoring the blood on it and draped it over his legs, cursing herself for not thinking of it earlier.

Trying to get help was pointless. But she was a desk agent. She'd never seen anyone die before. Yes, she had seen dead bodies, but she'd never had to hold someone as their body went limp and cold. Aaron was bleeding out, all over the two of them, and she was desperate.

"Help me!" she screamed.

And help finally came. A paramedic, too good for the world, broke through the barricade and saved them both. She tried to tell him thank you, but he just shrugged her off and focused on Aaron. It didn't offend her. All her focus was on Aaron too.

It reminded her of Agent Morgan's words. How all of Hotch's focus had been on her. She cringed at the memory. All she wanted, aside from Aaron to be safe, was for people to believe that she got where she did because of her own abilities and merits.

"You're going to need to drive the ambulance," the paramedic said to her.

Kate nodded. She was glad that her friends had convinced her to learn how to drive in America, even if all the roads were the opposite to the British ones. Aaron was going to make it. He'd be damaged and broken, but he'd be alive.

"Kate?" he rasped.

She turned back slightly. "I'm right here. I'm right here, and we're almost at the hospital. We're going to save you."

"Agent Joyner?" the man at the front said.

She swallowed. "Sir. Agent Hotchner is going to die if we don't give him medical attention. It's an emergency. I know who you've got in that building. I used to work for the same people he's with now. I understand the importance of protection. But if Agent Hotchner and his team had not come to New York, so many more people would be dead. Let me in."

Despite everything, the other man smiled. "You've not changed a single bit Joyner."

"I know," was all she said, before driving in. The moment they got through the doors, Aaron was being carried away. Against the bright lights of the corridors and the glaring white of the door, the blood all over his legs seemed even more horrific.

Her own ear was ringing to a painful degree, and her entire body ached from driving. There was a sharp pain in her leg and everything seemed slightly out of focus. All she wanted to do was close her eyes for a few minutes, but she couldn't.

Aaron's team got there fifteen minutes later. They were trying to work out what their team of unsubs endgame was. The video of the SUV exploding was playing on a loop. Kate had to turn away after she watched it a second time. He'd offered to drive, knowing that even after all that time, she hated it. Maybe if she had just sucked it up, it would be her in surgery not him.

It was amazing, watching them all work together, but she just felt out of place. They were able to bounce ideas off each other, finish their sentences. They knew exactly what the other was going to say and were able to all offer their own pieces of the profile.

She was just there because Aaron cared about her. And suddenly, telling them everything was the most important thing.

"We never slept together," she blurted out.

Agents Prentiss and Jareau had the decency to look ashamed. Morgan just frowned at her. Reid- the one that called Aaron a narcissist- seemed confused. Rossi just raised an eyebrow and she looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry. I just- he was talking, when he was bleeding out and all that. He said that he knew that you hated him, but he would never do that to Haley. I needed you to know. We were only ever friends. And I got here through my own hard work and dedication."

"It was a ridiculous comment to make, and we apologise," Dave said, voice soothing.

"And he's not a narcissist. He told me to stop trying to get the paramedic's attention because he was just one person. He was willing to bleed out, cold and without his family to keep everyone else safe. That's not the actions of a narcissist."

Rossi seemed confused by her words. There was a sudden spark of something in Reid's eyes, but now that she had started speaking, she couldn't stop.

"And he's not a bully. When we liaised together, he stuck up for me. For everyone. Never spoke over us, always respected people. He trusted me, and treated me exactly the same as everyone else, Agent Prentiss. He was so human, it hurt. I understand that he is your leader and things are different, but I needed you to know that."

"Kate, where is the paramedic you came in with?" Reid asked the moment she stopped speaking.

"I don't- I've got no idea. Why?"

Reid looked at his team. JJ's jaw dropped. Emily closed her eyes. Morgan visibly winced and Dave seemed like he was praying. Kate couldn't help the irrational surge of anger.

"We've worked out their endgame," he said. "The bomb is the ambulance that you drove here."

She was going to be sick. Either that, or she was going to pass out. The pain in her ear had only worsened, and she didn't feel steady on her feet. But none of that mattered. Innocent people were going to die because of her selfishness.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

Dave handed her an FBI vest. One that they had probably grabbed for Aaron to wear. He was the one that charged head-first into danger and hunted criminals. She wasn't even required to carry a gun.

"We find him, and we get that bomb as far away from here as we can," he said.

Kate nodded. When they reached the entrance, she realised what had been bugging her. "Where's Agent Morgan?"

They heard sirens. He was driving the bomb away himself. In some way, she was glad, because at least somebody had the sense to do it, but on the other hand, it terrified her. Because there was no way the Bureau would let her lead after this mess. Morgan was going to be her replacement, but although his actions were admirable and showed great care for his team, they would never see it like that.

"In his own way, he's giving us a chance to save everyone. Let's not waste it," Dave said.

The rest of the team nodded, and headed out. Kate followed, trying her best to ignore the pain in her leg. The only thing keeping her upright was her anger. At the paramedic for being an awful person. At Aaron for being too good. At herself for not putting the pieces together.

They found their unsub. He was holding a knife to his throat. As everyone else pointed their guns at him, telling him to give up because it was all over, the difference between her and them was even more obvious. She had nothing to aim at him, so she drew herself to her full height, ignoring the pain that came with it.

She felt sick, and hoped she wasn't as pale as she looked. Then his eyes met hers. Her blood ran cold.

"I did tell Agent Hotchner to thank his partner. That you had done everything," he said.

"You're not going to achieve anything. Nobody else is dying. Just give up," she said, voice wavering. She wished one of the others would do the speaking. She had no idea what would make this man press the button.

"No," he said. And he slashed his throat.

Kate felt bile rise in her throat, but if being a woman in the FBI had taught her anything, it was that you didn't show emotion. Ever. You did not fall apart in public, you kept your tears to yourself until you went back to your apartment and could muffle your sobs by running the shower too hot and turning the pressure to the maximum.

"We need to get to the hospital," Dave said then.

Kate took a step forward on unsteady legs. She needed to see the body.

Prentiss grabbed her arm. Kate flinched at the touch. She had been the one to suggest that her and Aaron had slept together.

"Don't do it to yourself," she said, forcefully steering her away from the body.

Kate was too weak to do much more than obey. She kept her head up during the silent ride back to the hospital. The most important thing was knowing that Aaron was safe. When, and only when they knew he was going to pull through would she succumb to her own injuries. Until then, she would pretend that the blood staining her clothes was all his and that her ears were completely fine.

"How is Agent Hotchner?" Rossi asked, the moment they saw a nurse.

They shrugged. "It's still too early to tell. He's still in surgery, from what we can see, both his ears and his hearing have been badly damaged by the blast. We're optimistic that avoiding loud noises will lead to a full recovery and return of his hearing but…" they trailed off.

"But what?" Garcia asked, voice full of nerves.

After she received confirmation that Derek was alive, she'd dashed to the hospital as quickly as she could so she could see everyone else and convince herself that her job was worth doing. They were still waiting for Derek to turn up. Penelope knew exactly what she was going to do the moment she saw him.

"Agents, there's a chance he may never walk unassisted. I'm not saying he'll need to use a wheelchair for the rest of his life, but the damage to his spinal cord and legs is extensive. If it's not a wheelchair, it will be a cane. He will have a life, and he will learn to do everything he wants to, but-"

"He'll never go into the field again," Kate said.

Everyone turned to face her.

And her world went black.

She could hear shouting, and there was the sound of footsteps. Then she was being moved, but she had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that Aaron's team needed to know the truth. Opening her eyes was impossible, but he was in surgery so he couldn't tell them.

"Agent Prentiss?" she choked out.

Someone was telling her to stop talking, to save her energy, and she almost smiled. Only a few hours ago, she was telling Aaron to do exactly the same thing but he hadn't. The two of them had never been good at listening when what they wanted to do felt more important.

"I'm here," Emily said, trying to stay calm.

"We didn't-" she stopped talking as a coughing fit overwhelmed her. Her vision was out of focus, but she saw the horror on everyone's faces. There was blood on her chin. She didn't care. They needed to know.

"We never slept together. We didn't." She was sure she had told them earlier, but her head hurt so much and she couldn't remember.

"We know Kate. We know," JJ said, having rushed over when Emily looked terrified.

"And I- I got here, because I was good. I was good. It wasn't him. It was me. He- Aaron- he loves Haley. Oh god. Haley. He needs her. Where is she? Where is Haley?"

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. She was vaguely aware of the doctors placing an oxygen mask over his face, and of lots of sound, but the ringing in her ears overpowered it all. Her thoughts were consumed by her need to know that Aaron was going to wake up and see his wife. And son.

She always thought he would be an excellent father.

"She's here," Emily said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Kate relaxed slightly. "That's good. He'll be okay then."

JJ nodded. "And so will you."

Kate gave her a smile. Perhaps the team did love him as much as he loved them. Still, there was no harm in reminding them. "You should tell him you love him. He seems to think you hate him. Haley's here though. So I guess that's something."

"Hey, Kate?" a doctor said. She turned her head to follow their face. They had a kind face. It made her feel safe. "That's it, focus on my voice. Your Aaron is going to be perfectly fine. I just need you to relax for me okay?"

"Not my Aaron. We didn't sleep together," she said, again.

"Of course you didn't. He's going to be fine, nonetheless. So relax for me. Do you understand? Aaron will be okay."

Kate felt her eyes starting to close. She was so tired. A few minutes of rest wouldn't hurt anyone. And Haley was going to be there when Aaron woke up, so it was fine. She'd join them soon enough. "Good."

Kate Joyner didn't open her eyes again.

Aaron Hotchner did.

And when he did, the first thing he saw was the brightness of blonde hair.

"Kate?" he rasped. He wasn't sure where he was, but it wasn't a road. The thing beneath him was comfortable, there was the steady beep of a heart machine, and the walls were a blinding shade of white that hurt his eyes.

Hospital.

Kate had gotten him to the hospital.

He sat upright, but the word started spinning and he had to relax against a pillow again.

"Not quite darling. It's Haley," Haley said, pushing his hair off his forehead.

Emily and JJ exchanged uncomfortable glances. Only a few days ago, they had been making jokes about the similarities. Now, Haley was alive and warm, whilst Kate was dead and cold. They still hadn't decided who was going to tell him.

"Why are you- this isn't your job anymore," he said, not meeting her eyes.

Dave slowly shepherded them out of the room. The team would come and make their apologies later. For now, Aaron needed comfort from the only woman he had ever loved. He would get the doctor in a moment. A few minutes delay couldn't hurt him any more than he already was.

"It is. Because you're still the father of our child. And they didn't know whether or not you were going to make it. I may not be a good person, but I do know that if I wasn't here and you died, I would never forgive myself," she said.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Where is- where's Kate?"

Haley wouldn't meet his eyes. "Aaron…"

He'd heard that tone before. More times than he could care to count. And he knew what it meant.

"What happened?"

"I don't know the full story. But the doctors said it was something to do with shrapnel and internal bleeding. They did everything they could."

"I know they did. It was me that didn't do enough. I need to go. See her. Before they take her back to England," he said, attempting to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

Haley winced. She couldn't be the one to tell him. She loved him with all her heart, but she couldn't be the one to tell him. Not this time. It was selfish, but verbalising it would make it too real, and she wanted to believe for a few more moments that everything was the same.

"Let me get the doctor," she said.

"Haley, what happened to me?"

"I'll get the doctor," she repeated.

"I don't want to hear it from the doctor. Not when you already know. What happened? Please, just tell me. I need to know and I can't wait until they run tests or do whatever it is they're going to do. Haley. Why can't I move my legs?"

With tears in her eyes, she lifted her head. "There was extensive damage to your spinal cord. And the blast meant there were severe amounts of shrapnel in you as well. It- you may be paralysed from the waist down."

If the heart monitor did not carry on beeping, he would've believed he was dead.

"Darling, I am so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, and if there is anything I can do-"

"There's not. At least I'm alive, right? Kate's injuries weren't as severe as mine, but because she was so busy saving me, she's dead. She saved me, and for what? I'm never going to be a field agent again. I'm never going to pick Jack up or be independent ever again."

"Aaron, that's not true. There's a chance that if everything goes well, you will walk with a cane."

"Yeah? And how big is that chance?" he was being unfair, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. If Kate had just left him, or stopped fighting for him to be saved, then she would be alive. Unemployed and with hearing damage, but alive. But she wasn't. She was dead, and he was stuck in a hospital bed, shouting at the only person that had ever truly loved him.

"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But I'm not going to stand by and let you insult Kate's actions like that. The team have asked to see you. Should I let them in when the doctor's done?"

He turned away from her. She sighed, and left him alone. Only a few seconds later, the doctor entered. Aaron moved his hand from his leg too late.

"Agent Hotchner. I'm Doctor Nightling. I'm assuming Haley told you what happened?" he said.

Aaron nodded. "I know that I'll never be a field agent again. I know that. But I need to know, is there any chance, any chance at all, that I'll walk unassisted?"

The doctor sighed. "I'm going to be honest. It's slim. Not impossible, but slim. If everything goes well in your physical therapy, I believe you will walk with a cane. But Agent Hotchner, a small reminder. You are lucky to be alive. And so many people with the same injuries that you suffered go on to have amazing and brilliant lives. The wheelchair and the cane that you use won't stop you from being whatever you want to be."

"What I want to be is with Kate. But she's dead. And it's my fault."

Doctor Nighting sighed, but wrote a few more things down. "It's not your fault Aaron. Now, there's not much more we can do tonight because you must be exhausted. Are you up for seeing your team? I don't think they'll leave without at least saying goodnight."

Hotch did not want to see his team, but it wasn't because he was exhausted. It was because he didn't want to see the fake sympathy etched onto their faces, or listen as they told him that everything was going to work out eventually. However, that would be selfish. He wasn't allowed to be selfish.

"Sure," he said.

Doctor Nightling left, and Aaron let a few tears slide down his cheeks. He knew everyone else was right. He was lucky to be alive. There was so much that he could still do with his life. He could learn to walk with a cane. He just couldn't find it in him to be grateful when Kate's blood stained his hands, alongside every other person he had failed to save. When the team came in, he shifted so he could look at them properly. They all had identical looks of sorrow and shame on their faces. He hated it.

"Sir, I just want to say that I have never been so glad to see you. And you look very good for someone that was just in an explosion. I'm not trying to act like it wasn't a tragedy, because it was, but I just- I love you. And I need to focus on the good," Penelope said, always the first to provide comfort. She ran over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Aaron closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch slightly. When she pulled away with a tearful smile, he managed to match it with his own slightly shaky one. It faded when he turned to the rest of the team, who all looked uncomfortable.

"We're so sorry about Kate," JJ said.

Hotch couldn't help but laugh. "Sure. Of course you are. It's not like you spent the entire time we were here mocking her, accusing me of being a cheater and treating her like shit." That was an exaggeration. He couldn't help it.

"She told us that. It was one of the last things she said. That you two had never slept together and that she got here because of her own merit. She was right. It was wrong of us to say something like that. And I'm sorry," Emily chimed in.

Emily, who had always managed to pinpoint his worst fears and biggest flaws and shoot her arrows directly at them. Emily who was probably only saying what she was saying because Dave had instructed her to do so. Who probably still didn't believe he was human, or that he did indeed trust her.

He turned away, blinking back tears. "You don't need to lie to me Emily. I'm a grown man, I can handle the truth."

"I- what?" she sounded confused.

"You don't think I'm human. You don't think I trust women as much as men, which is rather ironic given that everyone in life that has ever screwed me over was a man. Your immediate thought after seeing a woman that looked like Haley was that I slept with her." He wanted to hurt her the same way she had hurt him, and yet his words missed the mark completely. Instead of cruel and cold, they came out broken and desperate.

"Hotch-"

"Aaron, what are you talking about?" Dave cut in. For the past few hours, all he heard from anyone was that Hotch had genuinely believed them. When he had tried to ask why, they had all clammed up and claimed it wasn't important. That he didn't need to know.

Aaron frowned at him. "You don't know? I thought they would have told you. On one of your many outings together because I wouldn't be there so you wouldn't have to walk on eggshells or anything like that."

"Nobody's said anything," Dave said.

Spencer was fidgeting, which was completely normal, but he was uncomfortable. Dave just wanted everything to be cleared up so they could get some sleep. Think about their next move. And so that Aaron could be left alone to process the news. Even now, it was clear that he was hanging on by a thread because he was still technically Unit Chief. Hotch raised an eyebrow. He was being vindictive. He knew that. And he wished he could stop it, and he knew he should be a better person by now, but before he could calm himself down, the words were spilling out.

"Reid said I was a narcissist. Morgan called me a drill sergeant. JJ said I was a bully. Emily seemed prepared when she said that I don't trust women as much as men. Then she said that she needed to know she could be human. Like I wasn't."

Dave turned to face the team, jaw dropping.

"Come on man, that was so long ago. So much has happened since then, surely you can't still believe that," Derek said. It came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't help it. There was no way he was still mad about that. It had been something said in the spur of the moment because they were angry and he was there.

"On this case alone, JJ hid her pregnancy from me. Reid barely spoke to me. You accused me of focusing on all the wrong things. Prentiss assumed I had cheated on Haley," he snapped.

Dave finally went over. Hotch closed his eyes. He didn't want anyone to see him crying. Not now.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Hotch shook his head. Now the adrenaline had worn off, he just felt tired. He didn't want to see how he had hurt the team, or pushed them even further away. He just wanted to be left alone with his pain and his hurt. It was what he deserved.

"Aaron," Dave said again.

He lifted his head the slightest amount.

"You're hurting right now. And you're angry. So we won't say anything because it will just make the situation worse. But I want you to know that I think you are undeniably human, a good leader and a brilliant man. We'll come back in the morning. Now sleep."

Hotch nodded, not really believing him. As soon as they left, switching the light off as they did so, his eyes closed and didn't open until morning. Maybe if he had kept them open for a few minutes longer, he would've heard the sounds of Dave shouting at the team for never apologising to him. Maybe it was better that he didn't hear that, or else he would've convinced himself that when they all turned up in the morning, it was out of duty, not love.

He spent a further week in the hospital. Somebody from the team was always there. JJ would tell him stories about the shenanigans that occured at the hotel. Derek would help him move his body as much as he could. Garcia would show him how to knit. Dave would sit and watch him, not really speaking. Spencer would read to him, coming a little closer each day. Emily would bite her nails and look everywhere but his face.

On his final day, Morgan and Haley entered together. He had requested that Haley didn't come and see him. She had understood why and respected his wishes, but when she saw him, still unable to take even a few steps, she almost wished she hadn't.

The man on the hospital bed was not her ex-husband. And he didn't know that he was going to be staying with her until he could walk again. Which may never happen, but she needed to be optimistic. According to Doctor Nightling, the scans they had done looked promising and so long as there were no further complications, he would be able to walk short distances with a cane in the near future.

"Hi darling. Are you ready to go?" she asked.

With Derek's assistance, Aaron was able to get into the wheelchair. Haley had wanted to do it all herself, but she knew her limitations. There was no way she would be able to lift Aaron into the chair or into the car. And also, the longer it took for him to work out that he was staying with her and not Dave, the better.

He nodded, feeling exhausted from all the final last-minute checks that had been done to him.

She smiled slightly. "Good. Well, I'm just here to keep you company till you get to Dave's."

He fell asleep on the journey home. It made him look younger. When they arrived at the house, he looked betrayed. It made her heart ache, but she told herself the lying had been necessary. There was no way he would have cooperated if he'd known that Haley was going to be the one looking after him. It had been hard enough convincing him that Dave was fine, let alone her.

"You told me that it was going to be Dave," he said.

"I'm sorry for lying darling, but you wouldn't have gone otherwise. Dave did offer, but it was me that you lived with whenever you got injured. I was there after Boston. I know what I'm doing."

It was only when they were inside the house and Derek had wheeled Hotch into the side room that had become his guest room did he finally speak. After thanking Derek for his help, he turned himself around so he was facing Haley. He'd never had to look up to see her before.

Derek took it as his cue to leave.

"You were my wife then," Aaron said. It wasn't an adequate explanation, but it was the only one he could give. There was no way he was going to look at Haley and say that when he looked at her smile, he saw Kate's final grin. Or that her hair was so much softer than Kate's had been when he brushed it off her cold face.

"I loved you before that and I love you now. That's more important. If you really want to go to Dave's then we'll take you. But you know this house and this room. It may be better for you," she said.

"I'll stay as long as you let me," he said.

Haley gave him that genuine, wide smile that had left him breathless when he first met her and still did so to this day.

"I'd never ask you to leave, you know that," she said.

And she meant it as a joke, but his own smile faded. She wouldn't. When she had decided that she couldn't take anymore and needed to walk away, she had been the one to leave. The only reason that she had come back was because she had custody of Jack.

"I know," he responded.

She had known him long enough to hear everything he didn't say. "I'll let you get some rest. Your physical therapy starts tomorrow."

He groaned. He hated physical therapy.

But eight months of it meant he was able to walk with a cane. Not always. There were some days when the pain was so bad that he had to use the wheelchair again. Those days always felt like a failure to him. Deep down, he knew that they weren't. That it was good he was able to recognise his limits and not push them to the point of another injury, but it still hurt.

Jack thought it made his Daddy look even cooler. He didn't really understand what was going on, but he did understand that Daddy wasn't able to be the same superhero he had been before, which was fine because that meant he could be a different one, and also that Mommy and Daddy would both be there in the afternoon. Most of the time. There were some days where Haley would come in, and Aaron would be unable to walk comfortably. Once, he had been on the ground, his determination to walk unassisted getting the better of him.

Haley and Aaron didn't know what they were doing either. They weren't dating, but there were certain patterns one fell into when they lived with someone. But neither of them was going to ruin their friendship, so they just carried on as before. It was pleasant.

"I'll miss this place," Hotch said as Morgan hovered in the doorway. As he was no longer able to be a field agent, Hotch had retired from the FBI permanently. Morgan had taken over as Unit Chief, which was all Aaron had ever wanted for the other man.

Hotch had plans to lecture. There was no way he would be allowed to go quietly into the night. Not with all his experience as a prosecutor, a member of SWAT and a profiler. Strauss had been kind enough to say he wouldn't be able to train new cadets just yet. When he had thanked her, she had just shrugged and said it was the least she could do.

"We'll miss you too. And we will only ever be a phone call away," Derek said. He'd grown older over the months Hotch had been recovering. Aaron would never move past that guilt, but Derek held no grudge. He was just happy Hotch had been able to walk away.

"The same goes for you. All of you," he said.

"Go! Spend time with your son," Derek said, with a laugh.

They would all be at the Hotchner-Brooks home soon enough, eating dinner and reminiscing over the old days. Each member of the team had slowly convinced Aaron that he was not only deserving of their love, but that he had it.

Aaron grinned, and removed one hand from the cane to pull Derek in for a hug. Derek went willingly, only pulling away when he started to feel his shirt dampen.

"Phone call," Derek said.

"Phone call," Hotch repeated.

A month later, Derek would turn up on his doorstep, soaked to the skin. Haley would answer the door. He would enter, barely acknowledging her. Aaron would be playing with Jack, who would be incredibly happy to see his Uncle Derek again.

Hotch would smile, but when he saw the look on the other man's face, he would take his cane and follow him out of the room.

"Shaunessy's dead. The Boston Reaper is back and he wants vengeance. You're the only one with the knowledge we need."

Hotch, who had always needed to save people, would nod. He would go to Boston, and he would realise that George Foyet, the one surviving victim, was not in fact a victim, but a terrible killer. They would arrest him, only for him to get away because he had been planning his endgame since Shaunessy signed the deal.

Aaron would come home from lectures to an empty house because Haley and Jack were at Jessica's.

The world would go black once more, and when he was met with the bright white of a hospital room, he would not be going home with Haley because she would be leaving. And when he saw her again, it would be after Derek Morgan shot George Foyet dead. He would see her with her eyes closed and her hair dark.

And even despite that stark difference, the resemblance she had to Kate Joyner would terrify him.

[cupcakemolotov]

Fall With You

I ended up pinch hitting for the exchange! It was fun, if slightly wild 48 hours to put this together. Written for the lovely @queencarolinemikaelson​. I’m really glad you enjoyed it since it ended up being a fluff fest of roommate co-hab. Also a big thank you to @bellemorte180​ for putting this graphic together!

I put the first but under a cut, bit under a cut, but the full story is almost 9K, so the link to the story is at the bottom. :)

Summary: When life throws her a curve ball in the form of her good looking, yet moody roommate, Caroline takes it in stride as best she can. Her living situation was a favor, after all, and rent is anything but cheap in NYC. Its the part where she actually starts to like him that she can't quiet figure out how to manage. Lust was one thing, but feelings? 

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate; Universe - Human; Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates; Minor Character Death; not otp; Family Drama; Family Dynamics; Fluff and Humor; Domestic Fluff; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Mild Smut; Human Caroline Forbes; Human Klaus Mikaelson; Living Room Picnics; Wine; Dates That Aren't Dates; They Could Really Get Their Shit Together Faster; but not really; Making Out; Some petting; NSFW just to be safe            

It was almost three am, her feet were killing her, and her key was stuck in her front door.

Seriously, what was with her luck today? The door had always been finicky, but until earlier this week the lock had been behaving itself. It’d gone from not wanting to turn properly to straight up mutiny in four days. It was an easy fix, unlike the door, but it also required a trip to the store and she just hadn’t had time. Amazon could have delivered the powdered graphite, but she was on a budget and believed in shopping local.

Her two year savings plan to finish her degree would not manifest itself if she bought things simply because they were convenient.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline seriously considered just leaning up against the door jam and spending the night outside. It was early summer, and the air had cooled to a balmy sixty-five degrees, leaving the usually stifling hallway almost comfortable. If only she didn’t smell so heavily of beer. Shifting her weight, she winced as her shoes squelched, a reminder of the truly spectacular ending to her night. Her eight hour shift had almost doubled when the night shift manager had called in sick. Usually that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the only other person with keys was out of town leaving Caroline holding the bag to close.

She knew from experience that she had about an hour before she crashed, the rush from kicking out the lingering guests who had been clearly on an epic brawl crawl having mostly faded after the hour long subway ride home. Right then, the only thing keeping her upright was the fact that she was starving, her dinner had been rushed and only half eaten, and the knowledge that if she made it into her apartment she had the next two days off. Tomorrow she could sleep in, and if she was really lucky, her roommate’s night had gone well enough he could be coaxed into making pancakes.

Cheered by the thought, Caroline dug out her cell phone from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and checked it for a response. She hadn’t been sure if Klaus had beaten her home or if he was still out celebrating, but either way, he hadn’t bothered to respond yet. Her lips compressed into a thin line.

Usually, she could depend on Klaus to be awake when she finished a night shift, her roommates' hours were only reliable on how sporadic they were and depending on her schedule, hers weren’t much better. But with his big event tonight, she had no idea what he had decided to do. Honestly, would it kill the man to respond to her texts?

She’d expected him to ignore her rapidly typed apology and well wishes she’d sent in-between bites of food. Klaus wasn’t particularly good at handling sentiment of any kind and supremely anti-emoji, and she’d made a point to send several of them. She’d hoped it’d give him something to be annoyed about that wasn’t his evening plans. He needed to schmooze, and a scowl-y Klaus would not accomplish that at all.

He could be charming, when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. He just didn’t deploy full dimples unless he wanted something. Her reminders the night before that he needed to earn his half of the rent without getting carpal tunnel hadn't impressed him.

Too bad. She’d been right, and he’d known it.

He had mentioned a couple of his friends were trying to talk him into drinks afterwards, back when she had thought she might be able to join him. Usually, she would be thrilled that he was getting out and actually seeing people instead of trying to live off granola bars and tea. But right then she really wanted him to be home and grumpy so he could unlock the door. She wondered if texting Marcel with an S.O.S would be rude?

Things were a lot less complicated when she only liked Klaus for the rent he helped cover. Wanting him home, even just for a lock-related emergency wasn’t a thought she would have had even six months ago. Klaus was not what one would label as a comfortable roommate for most of the time. He was far too prickly for that, and he could be snarly in the mornings. Which fair, so could she, but the moodiness. Caroline hadn’t been one to spend much time around the art scene, either at Uni or in high school, but she’d spent the last year learning that there was a lot to be said about artistic temperaments, most of it unflattering.

She was fairly certain Klaus had been born a contrary grump, his winning personality had nothing to do with his chosen profession, she could certainly see how he’d been drawn to the lifestyle, talent aside. Most people immediately laughed off his acerbic tongue once they learned he was an artist, his behavior brushed aside as temperamental. His goods certainly helped his cause, and his accent added a layer of charm that otherwise might not have existed.

She was not so forgiving.

The first few months of their co-hab had not been easy. Klaus was messy, absent minded, and had ruined three of her towels with paint splatter before she’d blown her lid. The apartment was small enough that avoiding each other was nearly impossible, and her preferred kind of stress relief had to be timed for when she was alone, and so they’d been forced to deal with their annoyances. To Klaus’ credit, while he’d been snappish in return, he’d somehow managed to keep a lid on the worst of his temper.

They’d argued, multiple times, they were both stubborn and used to being right, but they’d eventually found some kind of middle ground. Snapping had softened into bickering, and Caroline had stopped nitpicking him about his notebooks being spread across the house and the incorrect way he rolled his toothpaste, and he stopped leaving towels on the floor and made a point to contain his absentminded mess to his room.

And then they started to talk, sometimes about work, sometimes about art, and she’d realized she kind of liked him as a person. She’d started dragging him to her group lunches on her days off, much to Rebekah’s despair, and they might have become something like friends. Except for the part where every so often, she’d look at him and something about the way he stood, the angle of his jaw or the line of his throat left her wanting to jump his bones.

It was really frustrating, when her existence didn’t even seem to phase him.

So she’d done her best to ignore whatever that little spark was between them when it flared up, and not upset the status quo. Because the past year had been better than she could have imagined. Before her mom had died, she would never have considered the life she found herself living now as a good one.

She’d just wrapped her third year at NYU, had exactly 24 hours of classes left before graduation, and had managed to wrangle her schedule so that her final semester would be a cake walk of classes. The cherry on top had been the kick ass internship she’d lined up for the summer. Her five year plan was perfectly on track, her excellent grades gave her a shot at graduating with honors, and she couldn’t wait to show her mom around New York City from the eyes of a local. She’d spent three years putting together a binder, collecting menus from her favorite places to eat and brochures from all the museums and the jam packed tourists locations to offer her mom some variety.

Then she’d gotten that phone call that had thrown everything into a tale spin.

Blowing out a breath, Caroline bounced on her toes and debated best her course of action. She could probably get her key out of the lock if she was very careful, though the past twenty minutes said her luck wasn’t great, Forbes women were nothing if not stubborn, but there was also a chance she would break the key off in the lock and she could already see the little smirk on Klaus’ face if she did. Her hand tightened on the strap of her backpack. He still hadn’t forgiven her for being far more comfortable with power tools than he was and her perfectly reasonable gloating probably hadn’t helped much, if she was honest.

She kind of didn’t regret it. Poking Klaus sizable ego was a favorite past time of hers, and he seemed to enjoy their back and forth as much as she did. Her mental tally had her up two points this month, and she wanted to keep her lead.

Unfortunately, things weren’t really going in her favor just then. Sighing, Caroline tucked her phone back into her bag and admitted defeat. She’d have to figure this one out herself. Either Klaus’ event had run long and he had actually taken her advice to schmooze people or he was home and had drunk enough that he was sleeping like the dead.

Either of those options would not help her now.

Her best bet now was to go and eat a giant piece of pie, drink her weight in caffeine, and trudge her way to the little mom and pop shop that sold a little of everything, including graphite, once it became a reasonable hour. She’d fix her lock and then crash for the following eight hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep, and leave a very pointed sticky note on the coffee pot so Klaus knew not to disturb her.

Satisfied with the makings of her plan, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, mentally reviewing the pie menu, and paused when the elevator dinged from behind her. Sliding her teeth between her lip, Caroline turned and blew out a breath when she recognized the tumble of ruffled curls stepping into the hall. The hallway was dimly lit, so it took a moment for her brain to really understand what else she was seeing.

Klaus was wearing a tux.

Logically, she’d known he was going to be wearing one. His event that night had been important, his work had finally made it into a gallery tonight and it was a Big Deal. His first real show outside of the fancy art school he had attended, and he had spent months fretting over his work and brooding silently in his room as nothing met his incredibly exacting standards. Klaus had even brought home a couple of canvas to work in the questionable light of his bedroom instead of the small studio space he and five other artists pooled their money to share.

Much to her annoyance.

No amount of febreeze really removed the scent of acrylics and turpentine, and she’d been worried if she tried to burn her stash of scented candles something would catch on fire. She’d held her tongue though, because Klaus was never nervous. He was in fact annoyingly difficult to rattle even in the most ridiculous of situations, the man had absolutely no shame, and the way he’d almost jittered had been weird and kind of enduring. Since he’d seen her in numerous states of frantic and alarmed, it was nice for things to end up on a little more even ground for once. She’d done her best to force him to eat something that looked like actual food every so often, and tried to stay quiet when she knew he was working in his bedroom.

She’d even helped him pick out the tuxedo from the catalogue he’d brought home from the store he had planned to rent from. There was a fancy evening gown that she’d rented hanging in her closet that Caroline had planned to wear to go with him before work had made that impossible. But knowing all that, and actually seeing him in that tux were not nearly the same thing.

Caroline blinked rapidly. Her paint speckled roommate, with his surly attitude and annoying dimples, was wearing a tux. And he looked really, really good. He’d undone his tie so it hung loosely around his neck, and his jacket was loose and unbuttoned around his waist, his curls still somewhat tamed along his forehead. Something very much like arousal jolted through her as he looked up, the low light highlighting the scruff along his jaw and the length of his neck. For a moment, he just stared at her, as surprised as she and then his head tipped and his brow arched, lips tugging up at the corners.

“Waiting on me?”

The rest can be found here: A03

[butterflyinthewell]

Adult fandom antis scare me.

You know how the most violently homophobic people end up being gay themselves?

That’s why I’m immediately suspicious of any 20+ adult fandom anti who uses the same rhetoric as 15 year olds and presents themselves as a “safe adult”.

There’s no way they’re safe, they’re using the rhetoric to deflect suspicion off themselves and they’re probably saying and doing really gross shit to kids in private.

❌❌❌❌

— TW CSA MENTION —

Just imagine how they could find the kid that’s the most on the fringes, make them feel special, reel them in more, get them to share nudes, and then threaten to take away all that friendship and turn everyone against them if they tell anyone what happened. Imagine how scared that kid will feel when they see this monster, feel disgusting and deflect all that terror and guilt into telling people to stop being alive over Loli artwork.

——

Predators are slick like that. They’ll hide in plain sight if it means accessing their chosen prey.

That’s why people need to educate minors about what grooming can really look like, cuz I promise it’s not icky artwork just existing on a server somewhere.

Being groomed is never the child’s fault, blame always lies on the predator. Always.

I looked up info about online grooming warning signs and here’s what I found. This may be triggering for survivors.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

The Steps of Grooming

Any person of any age, gender, sexual identity or ethnicity can groom someone for the purpose of abuse. That person may be someone you know or someone you don’t know. Children and teens are not the only victims of grooming, but this guide focuses on young people.

Grooming was first recognized in abuse cases where the abuser knew their victim in person, like Ariana Kukors, a US Olympic swimmer who was abused by her coach. Kukors has spoken publicly about the role grooming played in her story, and how the manipulation kept her under the control of her abusive coach for years. In addition to in person grooming, online grooming has become equally dangerous, prevalent and damaging. More and more of our lives are lived online, which is why we need to think more and more about our safety online.

1. Targeting a victim

Unfortunately, any young person is at risk of online grooming. Abusers typically look for someone who is more vulnerable or in a vulnerable situation, like someone living in foster care or someone with a disability. Online, abusive people look for teens who are lonely or expressing sexual curiosity. Sometimes online abusers pretend to be teenagers themselves, but more often they are adults trying to play the role of an older boyfriend or a mentor who can “teach” the victim about love or sex.

2. Gaining access

Sexual abuse is most often committed by someone that you already know, and this is because the abuser usually needs to be in your circle of acquaintances to get access to you. They want to be nearby and to have opportunities to be alone.

This is often not the case with online abuse, because the internet provides that access. Instead of being in the same city or neighborhood, abusers can meet potential victims on social media, in games, chatrooms, or anywhere that users correspond. Online platforms also allow anonymity, which works in the abuser’s favor. It can be difficult to determine who a person is and their intentions.

3. Building trust

A key part of grooming for sexual abuse is building trust with the victim. In person or online, abusers try to fill a need. You may be lonely, feel unpopular, isolated or bored, and the abuser will pretend to become a friend you can confide in and who can listen. They may act sympathetic, always take your side, and portray themselves as the only person who understands your problems. Their goal is to become your main emotional support. They may also try to make you feel special by treating you like an adult and commenting on your maturity. They may quickly look for a favor they can do for you to make you feel indebted and more likely to do something for them return. This stage is particularly damaging because it closely mimics a positive relationship.

4. Isolation and risk assessment

When an abuser thinks they have established trust, they test that bond. They may try to isolate you from family or friends, sometimes to the point of you becoming very emotionally or otherwise dependent on them. With online grooming, they may ask if your parents check your phone or if you are home alone. They may also start asking you to keep secrets, either about conversations or gifts they send. This is one way the abuser assesses whether they can move to the next step and you will stay silent.

5. Sexualization of the relationship

The final step occurs when the abuser believes they have built sufficient trust that you will do what they request and keep everything secret. They may commit sexual assault in or request sexual images or videos, often increasingly explicit in nature.

While in person and online grooming both follow these steps, abusers work at different rates. For example, Ariana Kukors swim coach began grooming her when she was 13 years old and the physical sexual abuse began when she was 15. Online abuse can occur faster, sometimes in even less than one hour.

🚩🚩🚩🚩

Red Flags and Warning Signs

It is not reasonable to say that you should avoid the internet if you don’t want to be abused. The responsibility and blame always lies with an abuser, not someone they victimize who is simply engaging in modern life online. We believe it is possible for you to still have fun online, meet new friends, and stay safe. The key is awareness. It may be difficult to identify a step in the grooming process in real time, but there are red flags and warning signs that you can recognize, especially if they start to accumulate. They can help you protect yourself when sexual requests slide into your DMs.

Flattery

It can feel nice to be noticed. Lots of likes and comments on your social media can feel good, but excessive compliments from a stranger can be a warning sign, particularly sexualized comments about your appearance. Flattery is one way online abusers gain access to their victims and begin building a relationship. “Wow, you should be a model,” may seem harmless, but it often isn’t. You have the power. Just because someone gives you a compliment does not mean you have to continue the conversation.

Gifts

Online groomers might send video game currency, cash, electronic devices, or other gifts to you to ingratiate themselves. This is a clear red flag. There is no reason why an adult should be sending gifts to a minor they met online, nor is it typical teen behavior to send gifts if the abuser is posing as a younger person. In actuality, gifts are one way abusers assess risk. They may ask you to not tell your parents about the gift to test how much you trust them and if you will stay silent after sexual abuse.

Asking for personal information

It is safest to avoid sharing personal and identifying information about yourself online or with those you don’t know. If you are playing video games, chatting, or sharing photos for fun, there is no need for personal questions about where you live or go to school. Do your parents read your messages? What is a secret no one knows about you? Abusers want to know as much as they can about their victims so they can better manipulate them.

Secret conversations

Secrets work in the abuser’s favor in two different ways. To build trust, they may confide in you by telling real or made up secrets to try to make you feel special. Abusers also use secrets to test that trust before escalating to sexual abuse. If someone asks you to keep a conversation secret, ask yourself why? Is the conversation inappropriate, or is it dangerous?

Sending sexually explicit photos

In the online dating world, it is almost assumed you will receive sexual photos whether you asked for them or not. Sexting is considered normal, but still has risks and consequences, particularly if you are under 18. Unfortunately, abusers rely on the normalization of sexting. They expect you to dismiss or think nothing of an explicit image, but in reality, abusers send explicit imagery to try and desensitize their victim to future abuse. It is a priming tactic. Keep in mind, that in many countries it is illegal for an adult to send an underage person pornographic material,nor is it lawful to send nude photos as a minor to another person. In any online exchange, it is not okay for anyone to send unsolicited explicit photos. This is poor etiquette and ultimately a nonconsensual act and red flag no matter what.

Requesting sexual photos

Online abusers sexualize the relationship by sending and requesting explicit photos and videos, explicit letters or phone calls, or asking detailed questions about your sexual history or experience. They may begin with a seemingly harmless request, like a photo of you fully clothed, before asking for increasingly sexual images. Others brazenly ask for explicit material straight away and even demand live webcam performances. Remember that after you send an image, you no longer have control over what a person does with that image. Ask yourself how well you know the receiver. Did you meet in person or online? Do you know their real identity and their intentions? How does the request make you feel? Many young people enjoy the attention that comes from the potential of a new relationship, but requests to send nudes can still feel like unwanted pressure.

Threats

After the abuser receives one or multiple sexual images, they may try to blackmail you into sending more images of increasing exploitative nature. They may send threats that they will release the images online or send them to your family or school. This is a kind of extortion, or rather sextortion, and is another form of sexual abuse. You do not need to respond or give in, despite how terrifying the threats may seem. An abuser does not want to put themselves at risk by exposing the relationship, so the threats may be a bluff. Seek immediate help.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Next Steps

If you feel uncomfortable about an online conversation, the next thing you should do may be the hardest. Reach out for help and support. Telling a parent, guardian, teacher or someone else can be daunting because you can’t know for sure how they will react, but confiding in someone with some power who you can trust and who won’t blame you for the abuse is key to moving forward. Alternatively, you can call a helpline which allows you to remain anonymous and get accurate advice about your situation.

An online conversation with someone abusive can spiral out of control quickly. You may feel ashamed or embarrassed, but if there is anything you should take away from this guide, it is this: it is never your fault. The blame is not yours to bear.

—source: Scarleteen website.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

My advice: keep receipts. Take screenshots, save emails, save photos or videos if it’s safe/legal to do so (ie they’re not another minor sending sexually explicit stuff, saving that might be cited as CSEM possession), and document whatever you can. It will help you expose the person to either law enforcement or in a callout post if a callout is necessary.

[howtosingit]

Fic: I’ll Build My Life Around You

Sometimes TK can be reckless on the job, and he doesn’t always think about what that means for his boyfriend.

*

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 3: First Love Confession

2.2K | Also on AO3.

-----

The drive from the hospital to Carlos’s apartment is tense, and TK has no idea how to lighten the mood. 

He’s not quite sure what he expected, but as he turns to look at his boyfriend in the driver’s seat next to him, it’s not a clenched jaw or a hard stare forward. He doesn’t really get why Carlos is so upset; it was only a minor accident, he’s got a few scrapes and bruises, but he’ll be back to work for his next shift later this week with no problems. He’s totally fine.

Except, Carlos isn’t acting like he’s fine. If TK didn’t know any better, he would almost say that Carlos seems angry with him.

They’ve been dating for almost three months now, and anger isn’t something that TK really associates with his boyfriend. Not that Carlos is an emotionally shallow person or anything. TK has heard him go on and on about work and other officers and politics and a number of other things. His boyfriend gets frustrated a lot, and because he tries to remain professional in public, TK is one of the few people who gets to see it unleashed. 

Carlos can also be sensitive. If there’s one thing that TK knows with absolute certainty, it’s that his boyfriend wears his heart on his sleeve for the world to see. He feels the pain of others so deeply, and all he wants to do is take care of everyone that he meets. His hero complex is the size of Texas, and it’s something that TK can relate to. They both have an overwhelming need to help people, and for TK, it’s what keeps landing him in the emergency room.

But TK knows that Carlos gets that, that he understands it. So, the negative energy radiating off of him right now is confusing. Especially since he’s usually very tactile and gentle when TK gets hurt, always willing to wrap him in his arms and cover him in kisses. It’s actually pretty gross, how cute they are together, but TK wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

He loves Carlos, even if he hasn’t told him yet. 

They pull into the driveway, still not a word said between them, and Carlos makes no move to exit the car once he’s parked. TK watches as he curls his hands tightly around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms visibly flexing, even in the dim evening light.

“I think they said I should ice my side as soon as I get home,” TK finally says after what feels like an hour of sitting in silence. Carlos jumps, turning to look at him. His expression is hard to read, but TK sees a storm of emotions in his boyfriend’s brown eyes, and it causes his heart to beat painfully in his chest.

“Right, yeah,” Carlos says blankly, turning to push his door open. TK doesn’t move, watching as Carlos circles around the car to open the passenger door. They don’t speak as Carlos holds out his hand, helping TK out of the car and up the front path to the front door. 

He breathes through the slight discomfort in his side as Carlos sorts through his keys, unlocking his apartment and ushering TK inside. He immediately moves towards the couch, sinking slowly down onto the cushions while Carlos passes through to the kitchen. TK warily watches as he preps an ice pack, trying to gauge how best to break the ice that currently separates them.

Carlos comes back into the living room, handing the ice pack to TK and reaching for the pillows at the far end of the couch. He silently places them around TK, ensuring that he’s properly supported, before moving over to the armchair and taking a seat. 

“You know, you could’ve just taken me to my dad’s house if you didn’t want me here,” TK says, his own frustration growing as the minutes pass. Carlos looks directly at him for the first time in what feels like forever, his brown eyes wide as he stares at him.

“I never said I didn’t want you here,” he replies, his voice smaller than TK thought it would be based on his previous scowl.

“Well, you’re sure not being very welcoming,” TK grits out, giving his boyfriend a hard stare.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Carlos fires back sarcastically, his eyebrow arched, “my boyfriend was in the hospital today, so I’m just feeling a little off.”

“Why are you acting like this is a big deal, Carlos? I’m fine,” TK sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. 

“Of course you are,” Carlos mutters, shifting forward to place his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor. “You’re always fine.”

“And you’re usually much more comforting, so I don’t get what your problem is right now,” TK snarks. 

“You’re right, TK,” his boyfriend snaps, his voice louder and harsher than TK has ever heard it. “I’m usually scared out of my mind, or at least I have been the past five times you’ve been in the hospital since we started dating!”

“I have a high-risk job, of course I get hurt sometimes!”

“You get hurt so often because you’re reckless!”

TK’s jaw snaps shut, his heart hammering in his chest as he reels back. Carlos gives him a hard look, his chest rising and falling as he breathes heavily. 

“Getting shot was not my f--”

“You know I’m not talking about you getting shot, Tyler!” Carlos cries, jumping to his feet. TK watches as he paces in front of the TV, his boyfriend’s agitation rolling off of him in waves. 

“I’m talking about you tearing your stitches when you were supposed to be taking it easy. I’m talking about you getting a concussion because you took your helmet off before clearing a site. Or running up a flight of stairs before making sure that they were safe, and then falling through and bruising your ribs!

TK rises from the couch, tossing the ice pack to the side, his blood boiling from hearing all of  his failures from the past two months.

“It’s my job to save people, Carlos, you know that!”

“You can’t save anyone if you seriously hurt yourself, Tyler.”

“So, what?” TK snaps, throwing his arms in the air. “Are you reprimanding me? Are you saying I’m bad at my job? What do you want from me, Carlos?”

“I want you to care about your own damn life sometimes, TK!”

Carlos’s words ring throughout the room as they both stare at one another, TK trying to figure out what the hell is going on right now. In the months that they’ve been together, they’ve never raised their voices at one another. They’ve actually been disgustingly cheesy, to the point of vomit-inducing, if Judd is to be believed. TK knew that a fight was bound to happen; they’re both such passionate individuals who care very deeply about things. He just never expected it to be following an injury. 

The silence goes on for too long, and before TK can respond, Carlos breaks it. 

“Do you know that I still have trouble sleeping sometimes when you work a night shift?” he starts, and TK’s heart sinks, wondering where Carlos is going with this. “I’ll dream about you laying in that hospital bed, after you got shot, not knowing if you’ll survive, and when you’re not there next to me when I wake up, it takes me a while to remember that you made it through that.”

An emptiness crawls through TK at Carlos’s confession, his mind racing as fast as his heart as he pictures Carlos waking up by himself, terrified that he’s lost TK forever. He doesn’t remember being shot or his short coma, but that doesn’t mean that no one else does. He never even expected it to still be on Carlos’s mind; he’s certainly never mentioned it before.

“And I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty,” Carlos continues, bringing his hand up to rub at his temple. “I just need you to know that every time I get a call or a text saying that you’re in the hospital, a part of me wonders if I’m ever going to get to see you again.”

TK moves a step closer, twisting his fingers together for something to do. This conversation has gotten so much bigger than he thought it would.

“Carlos, you know I understand that,” TK starts, his voice small between them. “I grew up with this, so I get what you’re going through. I guess I just thought you were okay with it because of your own job.”

Carlos gives a nod, turning away a moment. TK stares at his profile, watching the way he clenches his jaw as he bites his bottom lip, the tense set of his shoulders, the way his hands ball into fists. He recognizes that his boyfriend is trying to ground himself, and it’s best to give him his space to do it -- which is why he’s not expecting it when Carlos suddenly turns to look at him again, his eyes now shining with tears.

“Can I hold you for a minute?” he asks quietly, his voice cracking on a sob.

TK doesn’t respond; instead, he cuts across the room, ignoring the twinge of his bruised ribs, to fold himself into Carlos’s strong arms. His boyfriend all but collapses against him, the tension and anger finally dissipating as he holds TK close, ducking down to press his face into his neck, near TK’s pulse point. 

They stay like that for a moment, allowing their actions to speak for them. TK rubs his hands up and down Carlos’s back, soothing him. His mind is still trying to sort through the past ten minutes and everything that they admitted to. Even though they’ve only been dating for a little while, TK feels confident enough in them that he knows what Carlos said without actually saying it. 

He pulls away slightly to take his boyfriend’s face in his hands, rubbing away the tears that have fallen on his cheeks. They look into each other’s eyes, brown meeting green, and TK finds the confidence to push forward.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, babe,” he says, making sure that Carlos understands how much he means it. “And I’m for not realizing how much this was all affecting you.”

“No, I’m sorry, Ty,” Carlos starts. “You got hurt today, and instead of being there for you, I was an asshole.”

“I’m glad we talked about this, though,” TK admits, plastering on a small smile. “Look, injuries are going to be a part of this relationship. If it’s not me getting hurt, it could be you. We’re going to have to find a way to deal with them.

“And I know I can be reckless, I know I can get myself into trouble. I’m working on it, I promise.”

Carlos looks away for a moment, his shoulders rising as he takes a deep breath in and out. 

“I know you can be hot-headed sometimes, TK, it was the entire topic of conversation on our first date.”

“Hey!” TK exclaims, pulling back a bit to level his boyfriend with an affronted look. 

“Am I wrong?” Carlos asks, nodding when TK doesn’t contest it. “I didn’t think so. I guess it’s just different, the consequences feel bigger now, and more personal.”

TK takes Carlos’s hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

“I get that, I do,” he assures him. “It feels bigger for me, too, what you face every time you’re on patrol.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” TK nods, stepping close again. He looks up slightly, taking in Carlos’s open expression. “This thing we have here, it means a lot to me, and I’d really like to hang on to you for a long time.”

Carlos closes his eyes, a bright smile taking over the bottom half of his face. The sight of it makes TK’s heart beat faster, the love he has for this man threatening to overwhelm him.

So, he decides to let it.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, watching as Carlos’s eyelashes flutter, his warm brown irises reappearing. It’s breathtaking. 

“I love you, Carlos.”

Carlos practically melts in front of him, a bright sparkle appearing in his eyes as his smile widens even further. Then, he’s pressing forward, connecting their lips in a kiss made impossible by their shared grins. To TK, it’s still perfect in every way.

“I love you, too, TK,” Carlos breathes out when they separate, pressing their bodies together in a tight hug.

TK lets the joy of hearing those words consume him, holding tight to the man he loves more than he’s ever loved anyone before as tears start to fall from his eyes. 

He knows that he’ll do everything in his power to keep coming home to Carlos, and that they’ll build a long and happy life around their love and commitment to one another.

He believes in them.