#and while it helps to tell your trauma to someone safe trusted person the other part is for it to be your choice. i dont think dean can tel

[batcavescolony]

S4 E8 Supernatural

Careful what you wish for, literally. Them being teddy bear doctors and the bear gaining sentience and automatically having an Existential Crisis cus the world is horrible. The amount of Disney stars on Supernatural, Calum Worthy was in this one. Sam wants Dean to tell him about hell, but Dean doesn't want to. Dean isn't handling it well, and he's leaning heavy on the alcohol.

[yourmomxx]

Emily Prentiss(chief or not cheif) X Fem!Reader have been secretly married for several years, (if emily is cheif they’ve been dating since she was an agent and then married when she was a cheif and if not obviously the opposite). No ike knows or expects emily to be in a relationship because she doesn’t say anything until one day she forgets her badge and lunch at home so her wife brings her stuff and the whole place is shocked ? bonus if tara or someone flirts with her

a/n: ooh, I love me some secret relationship trope! Unfortunately, I'm still only on season 5/6 of Criminal Minds, so I just kept Emily as an Agent and not as Chief, if that's alright (Tara is in it, though ;)). I hope you like this, anon!

— ❝ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴀᴍ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴄʏ. Mʏ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ʟɪfᴇ ɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇss ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴏfɪʟᴇ.❞ —

-Jennifer Jareau

Emily Prentiss was a private person. She prided herself in it.

I mean try it, hiding something from an entire office of educated professionals in degrees on how to read the most subtle shifts in a persons behavior and building a view based on that information.

Of course, let’s not forget, there’s the general rule, or rather, interdict, of profiling the other members of your team. But sometimes, you can’t help yourself.

Emily had noticed it in herself more times than she would like to admit.

Sometimes, it happened as easy as breathing, a natural trail of thought that let loose when she caught on about something or the people around her. She tried to undermine it as quickly as possible whenever she realized she was doing it, though.

It’s not the fact that she didn’t trust them.

No, that was never the thing, those people were like her second family. Or her first even, maybe.

But after spending almost every waking hour of the past years of her life around them, there were some things that she would rather keep for herself.

Leave them be in their own bubble that was just ‘Emily Prentiss’.

And when she talked about ‘things’, then she was actually talking about you.

The team could find out about her pregnancy, about her resentment towards the church. They could know that she had a phase at fourteen where she liked licorice and hasn’t been able to eat it since those dreadful seven months, or that she still hated her father for being emotionally unavailable and leaving her to deal with her mother on her own; they could know that.

But they couldn’t know about you. Never you.

This is wasn’t an issue of trust, again.

Trust was never in the mix when she made the decision, every morning before work, to lay off her wedding ring and keep it safe on a small chain in her back pocket.

But you were her safe place. A rock, a tow, something for her to hold on to, the only thing that was in no way connected to her work place.

Emily loved you, she did so much, and she’d known it after the first time she saw you smile, and accepted it during the first time she kissed you.

And hiding you, keeping you safe from all of this, was her way of shedding off the horrors and traumas of her job when she came home at night, completely tune out whatever she had experienced mere hours before, and dive back into you.

Your shared house, shared bed, shared sheets, shared kitchen, shared table.

Not talking about you, or even admitting you existed, while she worked and saw the worst sides of what humanity had to offer, drew a distinct line between her life with you and the life she led at work.

Call it a personal protective shield.

So, no, she would never, ever tell them.

“No. For God’s - No.”

Which is why, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bureau that morning, and realized her credentials weren’t in their designated pocket, and also her bag was empty of her lunch box, she knew that she was doomed.

Emily knew about your caring side. The loving, mothering, always everyone's shoulder to cry on-side.

Hell, if she was being honest, it was one of the reasons she started falling so hard for you so easily.

In that moment, though? God, how she wished she would have chosen a narcissist.

(Not literally, though. She'd profiled guys like that before. They really weren't wife- or husband material.)

You had just been on your way out of the house when you had seen your wife's dark lunch box still residing on the counter top where you had prepared it for her an hour ago.

After a quick look at the time on your phone screen, you had short-handedly decided to slightly delay your trip to the pharmacy for some mundane refills, and drop by Emily's office to bring her her lunch.

After all, you knew how busy she could get, and how her focused state had the power to drown out every other basic need her body had.

If you wouldn't make lunch for her, she wouldn't have the time, or the head, to think of buying something for herself, you knew that.

One would think that was clear after almost an entire year of marriage.

The thought alone brought a smile to your face.

You grabbed your car key off the counter and hurried your way out the door, closed it behind you, halted for a moment - and slowly backed up inside again.

You eyed the black case next to the key bowl suspiciously.

"That wasn't there yesterday," You muttered to yourself.

Cautiously, because when your wife worked in the FBI, anything was possible, you reached for the leather-bound case and drew it closer to you.

When you opened it, the tension immediately left your shoulders. You shook your head sighing at the sight of your wife's passport picture and the huge, dark blue letters FBI showing themselves to you.

"Oh, Emily, what am I gonna do with you?"

When you left the house then, it was final.

Hopefully.

"What's up with you, you seem stressed out?"

Emily did her best not to flinch in her already tense state when JJ came up next to her.

She managed her best, reassuring smile and pressed her sweating palms into the side of her jeans.

"Oh, it's nothing," She lied. "Just thought I lost something."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Alright," She muttered. "If you say so."

Then, she crashed a light brown paper file into Emily's chest.

"This just came in from El Paso, three homicides so far. I'll inform the rest of the team and we'll meet in the briefing room in ten."

Emily couldn't do more than nod, and just managed to grab the file before it slipped to the floor when JJ left.

She wasn't usually like this. She was good at keeping her head in the game.

But right now, the fact that her credentials were missing wasn't exactly stressing her out, because she knew that you would bring them to her as soon as you realized that she had forgotten them at home.

Emily was stressed out because she knew you would bring them to her.

What she didn't know, was, however she should act and how the team would possibly take it.

The elevator you entered took a tremendous amount of time to realize which floor you wanted to go to, and even longer to slide the doors closed and jerking to a start.

You would think that in an official federal office building, the mechanics could be more advanced.

Then again, counting the many times Emily complained about the budget allocation of the bureau when she tought you weren't listening, maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised.

The doors slid closed when the thought suddenly hit you.

You were about to enter your wife's office. Which you had never been to, not once in your life and only knew the address of because goddamn, was it hard to miss.

The building that was probably the only thing that Emily had wanted to keep you out of for as long as she could.

And you came here for a lunch box.

Emily knew you knew. You had talked to her about it, she had answered your questions on why she always got fussy when you asked her how you could finally meet her team, and you had understood, every time, but this?

She couldn't just ask you to actively lie about your relationship in front of most of - all of - her friends, could she?

The last time she had checked your location, it had already shown you in close vacinity to the BAU building. She could figure what was ahead.

Was she about to deny a relationship?

“Can I help you?”

This office had way too many doors, in your opinion, and way too few signs telling you where to find what.

The greeting voice made you look up, and you automatically shifted into your politeness to strangers-mode, upon seeing a woman come up to you, wearing a two-piece and her hair in loose curls.

A very pretty woman, you had to admit.

"My name's Tara Lewis," She introduced herself, "Who are you looking for, sweetheart?"

You quickly waved her off. “Oh, I don’t work here.”

Tara tipped her head, eyes not so subtly shifting up and down your appearance.

“I figured as much, I would have remembered a face like yours.”

You managed an awkward laugh.

Emily had once, in good fun, told you you were easily caught off guard by people showing genuine interest in you all of a sudden.

You hated when she was right.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Just over Tara Lewis' shoulder, you were suddenly able to spot the dark hair that indicated Emily Prentiss approaching from behind her.

You nodded in her direction in recognition, as she came to a halt next to Tara Lewis.

"I'm a friend of Emily's," You lied, and by God, you did it so neatly, Emily was questioning if she had maybe already dragged you down without realizing.

"She texted me that she forgot her lunch and her badge, and since we're close to each other, she asked me to get it for her."

That polite smile was still present on your face, and your voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

You threw Emily small looks in-between, unspotted by the usual eye, but she noticed them.

You were telling her to go along, to play the game, string it all a bit further until it turned into a web that could either wrap around and suffocate her, or catch her when she stumbled.

And she probably should.

Because you made it easy. You had made it so easy for her, laid it out like a red carpet for her to walk on, the lie, that could keep her sanctuary safe-

"I'm married."

In the midst of talking to Tara, your words died in your throat and your mouth stopped, hanging open.

Tara herself whipped her head around so fast, it was a question if she was breaking her neck, eyes ripped wide open in complete and utter schock.

It was quiet. In-between the three of you, a needle dropping would have echoed like the loudest drum.

"Say what now?" Tara didn’t take her eyes off Emily for a moment.

Slowly, movement seemed to re-enter your muscles and your eyes widened at the absolute extent of what had just happened.

"What are you doing?" You hushed at Emily.

Your wife's gaze - who you loved dearly, but in situations like these, could just hold by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake - tumbled between you and her co-worker, and you could almost decipher the exact moment she graciously invited the 'fuck it'-attitude.

Emily's shoulders dropped.

"I'm married," She repeated. Calm, collected, and slow.

All of the things you were totally not feeling right now.

"This is Y/N." Emily stepped next to you and held you gently by your wrist. "My wife."

And if the English Dictionary had demonstrating pictures next to each word, Tara Lewis' face right now would be pinned under 'bafflement'.

It took a moment, actually it took a few, for the Doctor to collect herself again.

She straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and shook herself out, as if to remove any unnecessary consideration that kept her from thinking clearly.

"Who knows about this?" It was her first question.

Where your shoulders were ever so slightly touching, you could feel Emily's body stay tense.

"Not really anyone," She admitted.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Emily shook her head. "Y/N is my personal life," She cleared. "I spend almost every awake minute with you people. I wanted something to myself."

As subtly as you could, you leaned your body the slightest bit closer to her. It wasn't visible to the lazy eye, but Emily could feel it.

She squeezed your wrist.

You were comfort to her.

Tara's eyes flew between the two of you, contemplating, observing.

Then, from one moment to another, her lips broke into a blinding grin.

"A wife," She repeated. Emily ripped her eyes open to interpret her friend that she should keep her voice down.

"Good for you," Tara smiled.

Emily visibly relaxed. A breath she had been holding escaped her lungs soundly.

"Let's just be clear," She told Tara, "This is still my thing." She gestured to you. "My marriage is still my thing. I don't need the entire team on me like vultures, profiling my love life like they do everything else."

Tara nodded earnestly. Her small curls were bumping up and down. She pulled her fingers across her lips and pretented to turn a key in the corner of her mouth.

"My lips are sealed." She threw the imaginary key far, far behind the office desks. "Lovergirl."

Emily ignored her and turned to you.

Your fingers lingered around hers in the movement.

"Thank you," She breathed out quietly. A soft smile played around your lips as you looked into her eyes, recognizing that specific gentleness that you knew she only gifted you with.

"Anytime."

You placed her lunch box in her hands. "It's rice with some peas and corn." Emily smiled. "You're the best."

"And, before I forget-" You pulled out the badge from your bag, but instead of giving it to Emily directly, you opened her suit jacket and found the inner pocket, safely storing the credentials where you knew she kept them every day.

You smoothed out the jacket when you were done.

"There you go."

Emily didn't even know what to say. That warm feeling, that she felt in her entire body every time she looked at you, realized who you were and who you were to her, it made itself known in this moment right now.

Right here, in the middle of her workspace.

And with all the horrors she'd see, it was probably the most content she had felt in this place in a while.

"You are so amazing." The words didn't come close to what she was feeling.

But the way your eyebrows loosened, and your lips slightly parted, she knew you understood.

"This is so sweet, and I hate to be that person, but Prentiss, we have a case to get to."

Emily cleared her throat, being ripped from whatever that moment had been, and reminded on what ground she was standing right now.

"Right," She said. She opened her arms and leaned in to pull you into a hug.

A hug, not a kiss on the cheek.

She wasn't that far yet.

"It's okay." The feeling of your breathed words tickled near her ear. "I understand."

Emily squeezed you a bit tighter.

"Get home safe."

You slowly broke away from the embrace.

"I will," You promised.

Tara mouthed a quick 'I'm so sorry' in your direction. You laughed and waved her a goodbye, before you headed for the elavator again, and she got on her way to follow after Emily, who had already made her way to where JJ had ordered them a few minutes ago.

Tara endured until the top step.

"Oh.my.God. I can't believe it!" She almost squealed as they made their way next to each other to the briefing room.

"Look at us, sharing secrets now. Ah." She shook out her shoulders. "I feel like this is a pyjama party in junior year all over again. Amazing."

Emily couldn't do anything else than grin at Tara's antics.

Suddenly, her pocket vibrated with a short tune, and Emily pulled out her phone to check her display.

It was a message from you. Emily smiled softly as she read it.

Have a good day, my sun. Will hopefully see you tonight<3

"A message from boo?" Tara mocked, and tried to peak over Emily's shoulder.

Emily quickly shut off the display, stuffed her phone back into her backpocket and continued walking.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

But the lovesick smile didn't leave Emily's face for the rest of the way to the briefing room, partly because she was so caught up in her thoughts about the specific feeling of your skin, that she didn't even notice she was wearing it.

[prettyoatmeal]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons While You're Dating

I figured this would be kinda cute since I've only written for König. Switching it up just a little bit since I think the 141 boys are cuties <3

I know this is quite long too, I'm sorry I had a lot of thoughts I wanted to get out!!!!!

There will be both SFW and NSFW with a GN reader (they/them pronouns) ^^ Enjoy!

GENRE: Fluff, smut after NSFW cut

WARNINGS: Mentions of Ghost's childhood

Masterlist here!

***************

You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you'd felt first. Simon wasn't one to open up about his emotions and mostly tried to ignore and bottle up his feelings, so he never would've been able to gain that courage to tell you first.

When you did tell him, he became super flustered behind that mask of his. You normally called him by his alias and never really used his actual name, so he knew what you were going to say would've been serious.

"Hey, Simon? I think I like you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just figured I should tell you sooner than later."

...

"Simon..?"

He would let out a flustered grumble of "Yeah yeah,, I like you too." and you two would slowly, but surely, warm up to each other more.

He'd be a very gentle lover. Just the thought of him hurting you, even by accident, made him violently ill.

Ghost wouldn't be one to be touchy very early on in you guys' relationship, he kept a lot to himself and you respected that. At times you would hold back from trying to hug him, or hold his hand, or anything, but you didn't mind. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

He'd soon realised you were the cuddly, touchy type, so he'd begin making moves like wrapping his arm around your waist or linking his pinkie with yours while you were walking. Just those small touches alone would make your knees weak.

Simon faced a lot of trauma in his childhood so he had trouble opening up to you at first. Once he did start opening up to you, he realised he didn't need to ignore his feelings for once. You made him feel safe.

>:'(( he loves you so much.

He'd call you all the usual pet names such as 'my love', 'darling', 'sweetheart', etc.

You'd often be the only thing on his mind when he'd be on missions or back in the barracks.

He'd always keep a printed photograph of you in a pocket somewhere so he could remember who he was fighting for.

When he'd be upset, he'd always pull that photo out just to look at it. Just seeing your face brought him immense comfort.

His love language would definitely be acts of service. He'll gladly cook a nice meal for you, or tell you to sit down and relax so he could take care of the cleaning.

However, it goes both ways. You'll pack him a lunch for the day He'd be on his knees. Make his bed for him if he were to be too busy? He'll completely melt. It's those little things.

His father didn't care all that much for him as a child coming from an abusive household, essentially needing to take care of himself. Having that someone to pack him a lunch and look after him in such a way made him feel loved and safe.

Of course he'd never take his mask off in front of you. He never took it off for anyone, there were no hard feelings. He preferred his anonymity and you are completely okay with it.

You never asked to see him without the mask because

well,

you just didn't. That was his privacy and you weren't one to invade it unless he would offer or if he were to be ready.

You two were both very patient with each other and that helped build a healthy and trustful relationship.

You also didn't mind not knowing what he really looked like. You first fell in love with who he was as a person, not his physical attributes.

When he did show you what he looked like unmasked, it was ironically during a make-out session.

(He low-key planned it out)

"Bloody hell, this thing is getting in the way." He'd say as the balaclava kept slipping down and shielding his lips from yours.

Thats when he finally pulled the felt which covered his features off, taking you by surprise.

The face-paint was still there, but his beautiful features were completely exposed to you.

He definitely got flustered at just how much you were examining his face.

"You look like you've seen a Ghost, darling."

That snapped you out of it, earning a chuckle from you before you two were sucking each others faces off again without that irritation from the fabric.

While nothing was said in the moment, by the time you two were done, you'd already begun to gush about how handsome he looked. You'd cup his face in your hands like he would to you and place kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, everywhere. He'd just look away in embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah, take a picture, it'll last longer... PLEASE DON'T-"

The hard, confident Simon you knew became a blushy idiot and you loved it.

He was your Simon

__________________

NSFW

Before you two had any 'alone time' together, he'd always make sure there's a large water bottle or an electrolyte drink on the bedside table because, man, his guy has a lot of stamina and a high sex drive.

He could easily shoot a some loads into you over the course of a couple of hours.

You couldn't count how many times he'd make you cum over those few hours as you'd be a babbling mess by the end of it. No thoughts, just getting dicked down.

He wasn't exactly rough, but definitely not gentle. He'll be pounding into you like it was your last nights together for a while. And yeah, sometimes it was, so you two would need to make the most of it.

He wasn't one to inflict physical pain to you either unless it was the occasional slap on the ass or thighs.

He was one to grab onto you though. He'll grab onto any piece of your body he can.

Doggy? Bent over a table? Riding? He'll be digging his fingers into your fleshy hips.

Steamy make-out session? Or just feeling possessive? He'll gladly grab onto your thighs or wrap his arms around your waist.

The boy loves holding onto you, especially when he's in heat, leaving maybe just a few red marks from him gripping onto you so tightly. Maybe even a few scratch marks.

Missionary would definitely be his favourite position.

He'd be able to stare into that pretty face of yours for eternity if his life depended on it.

Missionary also lets him hold your hand as he pounds you into the mattress. The feeling of you squeezing his hand as tightly as you can while you cum makes him go absolutely feral.

Simon wouldn't make all that much noise in bed. Though when he's feeling desperate, he can't shut himself up. He'll let out soft moans and groans and growls into your ear just to let you know how good you're making him feel.

He also would love seeing your mouth full of his cock. The faces you'd make up at him as it slides down you throat could make him cum instantly.

Moan his name and he will also cum instantly.

"Oh, fuck- Simon~!"

He'll start pounding into you like never before, chasing both of your orgasms.

He’ll always make sure that you’re left satisfied. No point in pounding into you if you’re not going to be enjoying it the entire time.

He'd probably cum a lot too. Thick strands would shoot inside you or into your mouth, struggling to stay inside. He'd probably have a thing for pushing his fingers inside your hole to make sure his cum stays inside you.

He's a top and a soft dom so he'd have a bit of trouble getting used to bottoming and/or subbing. He wouldn't turn it away, not for you. But it would need some getting used to for him.

If he's subbing, you could very easily get him to start begging once he gets lost in the pleasure. Though he'd definitely feel embarrassed after. He's a grown, dominant, military man who engages in the most brutal and gore-y activities. He wouldn't have ever believed himself a couple of years back if the future Simon had told him he'll be begging his partner to let him cum as they jerked him off in the slowest, most torturous way.

If you two hadn't seen each other in a while, he'd be pushing you against the wall in an instant with your thighs on either side of him. He'd be practically begging you again to let him fuck you, and you'd of course let him.

Breeding kink? For sure. He LOVES to cum inside you and fill you up.

"F-Fucking hell, look at you, doll, completely stuffed." He'll say as he cums into you for the third or fourth time that night. Your entire body would for sure be shaking at that point.

Of course he’d be affected by the overstimulation as some point as well, he’d begin stuttering every now and again each time his cock would throb inside you.

He'd slam into you with such force, you'll be sobbing tears of pleasure by the time you two were done.

You'll often become extremely tired from sex from the sheer amount of stamina this man has, it can't be said enough.

This man will gladly take you to your limit, but the moment you show signs of passing out or feeling unwell, he'll stop and make sure you're okay, giving you some water and something to boost your blood sugar so you’re not passing out on him. He's not one to take such advantage of you while you're unconscious, and you respect him a lot for that.

Post-sex includes so much cuddling. He'll apologise for accidentally hurting you or if he was too rough and make sure you're all cleaned up and had water before you two head to bed or for a nap.

Post-morning-sex would include him bringing breakfast to you in bed which you thought was the most adorable thing ever.

Your legs would be jelly by the time you two were done, so just trying to make it to the bathroom would be a whole challenge.

Simon would always either carry you or provide you will that stability, it was sweet. He'd hold onto your waist as tightly as he could to make sure you wouldn't fall while your knees would give in.

He was very buff so it would be pretty easy to keep you from falling to the ground.

He'll make sure you're all squeaky clean, hydrated, and fed before anything else.

He truely was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

***************

I loved writing this so much, I'm about to go scream into my pillow. Goodnight, everyone <3

[the--queen-of--hell]

I don't know what to think about anti proshippers anymore.

Antishippers say "stop normalizing child x adult ships" "stop normalizing incest" "stop romanticizing child x adult ships" "stop romanticizing incest" while being okay with romanticizing murder in some shows/movies and romanticizing cannibalism in some shows/movies. I didn't see any antiship throw hands the moment someone said "I like Hannibal" although it romanticize cannibalism. It's weird, isn't it?

Antishippers say "shipping fictional minor x adult ships is gross and disgusting" "shipping fictional incest ships is gross and disgusting" and "shipping X is gross and digusting" while being okay with telling real people to kill themselves. While being okay with telling real people "you should be raped" "you should be tortured" "you should burn in hell" and more things. Do you even pay attention to your actions and the actions of other people? How shipping two characters is worse than telling a real person "kill yourself"????

Antishippers say "you are gross" "you need help" "you're insane" "you need therapy" while being the ones who tell proshippers "you deserve to have trauma" "you deserved to be raped" (for those proshippers who were raped and were told they deserved it by antis- I'm so sorry). I'm no therapist, but if I were I would honestly find more disturbing an anti saying "kys" to a real person than a proshipper liking problematic fictional content.

Antishippers say "protect the children" "children could see this and think it's okay" "victims of pedophiles/abuse don't deserve someone romanticizing their trauma". You have no right to claim you want to protect children when you're harassing or telling children to kill themselves. Because yes, in the proship community there are minors. And no, they haven't been groomed into being a proship. Actually, if anything, they would have been groomed into being an antiship because they're scared of people telling them "kys" "you're a pedo" "you're fucking disgusting". And what are children doing in Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad anyways? They're not supposed to be here. They're not supposed to see content not made for them. If they are in these websites, I'm worried about why their parents aren't there to tell them "this is not a safe place for you". And if people were hurt by real pedophiles or were abused, I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for them. But why the hell they're seeing fictional content that triggers them? If it upsets them, then block the content, ignore its existence, and trust me, you will feel less upset and more happy.

Antishippers say "you deserve to be harassed" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop being weird" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop sharing that type of content". Do you realize you sound like those people who say "if you don't want to be harassed for being gay, then don't be gay" "if you don't want to be harassed for being trans, then don't be trans" "if you don't want to be bullied, then stop being a weirdo", right? Or you didn't realize that?

Antishippers say "this ship is fucking gross" "this ship is fucking disgusting". I'm sorry, didn't you see the thing that said "block button" "filter tags"? Because you can do that. If you don't like some kind of content, use the filter tags/block button. Watch the content you want to see. Use the block button and filter the tags. Search for the ships you like instead of the ships you don't like. I forgot something? Oh yeah. Use. the. block. button. and filter. the. tags.

Antishippers say "why there are so many fics of these ships on AO3?" "why people are so gross?" "why people have to write about this?". Bro- I'm sorry that you didn't realize before but- AO3. IS. A. FUCKING. WEBSITE. FOR. PROSHIPPERS. So don't start with the "Proship DNI" in your tags because AO3 is a PROSHIP web. If you don't like it, GET OUT of AO3 and go WATTPAD or FANFICTION. AO3 is for PROSHIPPERS and we're TIRED of your "Proship DNI" bullshit.

Antiship community is honestly one of the worst communities I've ever seen. There's no other community so inmoral, digusting, and horrible in the Internet.

To my proshippers fellows, if I forgot something antis say you're free to add it.

[sluttysnowangel666]

Home Is Where the Heart Is - jace velaryon x reader (request)

summary: in a modern au, jacaerys must return home from studying at uni to help his stepsister care for his younger siblings when their parents and brother die. The step-siblings already complicated relationship grows more and more tense given the circumstances, and they find themselves being each other’s source of comfort in hard times.

cw: stepsiblings, death, angst, grief, emetophobia warning, childhood trauma, modern au, modern!jace, smut, idiots in love, mutual pining, slow burn, talks of abusive/ unhealthy relationships, jealous jace, NO INCEST(except daenyra but like not really bc it’s au) not entirely canon, drinking, use of Y/N

this one was hard to write for me, given i’ve experienced parent loss. i put a lot of emotion and personal experience into this one so pls be gentle with this one if you don’t like it.

I - The Leave

To say you and your step brother had tragic lives was a bit of an understatement.

Jace’s father, Harwin, had died in a fire when he was a young boy. Your mother had died in her birthing chambers having you. The paths your lives had been on as children shifted, leaving your parents to remarry when you and Jace were both only 15.

You initially did not get along. Jace did not like your father Daemon, and you did not like Jace’s mother Rhaenyra.

Over time though, you both acclimated to each other. You grew closer as the years aged you. By the time you both turned 19, you were thick as thieves. You had comforted each other through heartbreaks, similar childhood trauma, navigated what it meant to grow and change as people, and protected each other from the rest of the world.

Jacaerys was your best friend, and you were his. In another universe maybe, you could’ve been more than that. But it seemed in this world you were only meant to remain as blended family.

So when Jacaerys told you he was leaving to go across the country to Uni, your heart nearly split in two.

“What’s in Manchester?” You ask him.

“A school.” He replies sarcastically. You throw a pillow from his bed at him.

“No shit.” You say as he throws it back. “But why’d you pick one so far?”

He pauses, not wanting to reveal the honest answer. Truth be told, he found it more and more difficult to keep his secret around you. He needed to go simply for the fact he was falling in too deep, deeper than a stepbrother should fall for his sister.

It was hard seeing you every day of his life yet never being able to be with you. He saw you with other men, which ignited a jealousy in him he didn’t even know that he had. He couldn’t stand being around it, couldn’t stand lying to your parents when you snuck out of his bedroom window, couldn’t stand watching you allow yourself to get treated like shit by men who provided nothing. If you had been his… in another life… things would be different.

“I just think I’ve outgrown London.” He says, continuing to pack his clothes.

“I hope you love it.” You tell him. You were so sweet, so kind to everyone. You hadn’t deserved the hand life had dealt you. He only wished you could see the love you deserved, he wished he could show you.

He felt sad leaving you, but he felt better knowing you would be safe with mom and Daemon. He knew you would take good care Aegon and Viserys. He knew you would care for Joffrey and Luke too. Even though they weren’t your blood you loved them like they were.

“When do you go to get your rental car?” You ask him.

“In the morning. Then I’ll drive non stop to Manchester.”

“Hm.” You hum while petting his cat, Vermax. “He will miss you.”

“I trust you’ll take care of him for me.” Jace says.

“I will, besides he’ll have Arrax and Syrax to keep him company.”

“And what about you? Who will keep you company?”

“Don’t you worry about me, Jacaerys. I will get by.” You say. He looks at you, comfortable on his bed with Vermax on your lap. “Perhaps you’ll even meet a girl in Manchester.”

“Perhaps you’ll meet someone who won’t cheat on you.” He says, a random anger appearing out of nowhere.

“Don’t be fuckin’ rude, Jacaerys.” You say. “I’ve done nothing to anger you.”

“No, you’ve just allowed yourself to be treated like shit by men and I know you will continue to when I leave.”

“I don’t see how it’s your business anyway.” You say. “But be like that if you wish. I have a tampon I can throw in your bag if it’s that time of the month.”

He sneers at you, waving you away with his hand. You stand to leave. “Goodnight, Jacaerys.”

“Wait.” He says, grabbing your wrist as you open the door. “I’m sorry… I’m just… scared. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“You have nothing to worry about Jacaerys.” You say, taking his hands in yours. “You’re gonna do great.”

You look into his eyes, but he looks past you at the door. His hand pushes it shut, and you look at it, then back at him. “Jace?”

He presses his lips onto yours and you pull away, shocked. You both stare into each other’s eyes in silence, both of you gasping in shock at what just happened.

Neither of you had any idea what to say to each other, so you pressed your lips back onto his. His hands rested on your waist, pulling you into him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he backed you onto his bed. You landed on the pile of clothes on his bed, letting him in between your legs while playing with his pretty brown curls.

“Bubby!” Viserys yells, coming into Jace’s room. You practically kick Jacaerys onto the floor. Viserys doesn’t seem to notice what you two were both up to, too distracted with his mission. “Have you seen Aegon? We’re playing hide and seek, mommy said check in here.”

“No, Viserys! Get out.” Jace says on the floor. Viserys sticks his tongue out at him.

Your heart was racing from the fear of getting caught by your sibling, clarity hitting you in the face.

“I’ll help you find him, Vis.” You say, standing and leaving Jace’s room, avoiding Jace’s eyes that were pleading for you to stay.

The next morning you all woke early to say goodbye to Jacaerys. He’d wanted to text you during the night and ask you to come to his room so you both could talk, but he gave you your space.

Your family all said goodbye to Jace, helping him bring his bags to the car and giving him a tearful goodbye.

You waited by the car door and he walked over to you with a gentle smile. You both stared into each others eyes, pleading.

Tell me to stay. I’ll stay. His eyes begged yours.

Stay. Your eyes begged.

But in the end neither of you said a word. Instead you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, and he did the same.

He moved you by your hips away from the car door, getting inside and avoiding your eyes. Your family all waved goodbye to him, saying they loved and were proud of him.

He drove off, staring at you in the rear view mirror.

That was the last time your family was all together.

II - The Photo

A few months had gone by since Jace left, and neither of you had spoken. You occasionally stalked his Instagram to see how he was doing though. He had been traveling, getting sunburnt, clubbing, DJing apparently. A hobby you hadn’t expected him to pick up, but one he had nonetheless. He had made two friends you noticed often, Cregan and Benjicot.

He was doing good. He was handsome, growing into a man. You missed him, in ways a stepsister shouldn’t miss her stepbrother. You dreamed of him often, even sneaking into his room at night every once in a while just because you missed his smell.

You stole oversized shirts he left behind, sleeping in them. You messed around on his PC, playing games like Roblox knowing he would get home and think it was Luke.

One day you had been mindlessly scrolling on Instagram when you saw Jace was tagged in a post by Cregan.

It was the two of them… and a girl. Jace’s arm was wrapped around her and they were practically connected at the hip. You gasped softly, trying to find who the girl was.

Her name was Sara, and she was obviously Cregan’s sister. They had the same sharp features.

“Slut.” You mumbled to yourself. You liked the post to be petty.

Jace’s heart dropped at the notification. It was the first interaction, if you could even call it that, that you two had shared since he left.

He wondered if you were jealous.

You were. You wondered if they were hooking up, or even dating.

They weren’t, she was a lesbian, but he knew the photo would get your attention.

Jace had told Cregan about your kiss, and Cregan wanting to be a wingman posted the photo in an attempt to get you to message Jace.

It didn’t work, and slowly you both started to move on from each other. You never exchanged any texts or calls or letters, and another year and a half would go by before you would reunite under the most unfortunate circumstances.

III - The Loss

You’d awoke in the middle of the night to a frightening knock on your door, a knock that only comes when there is bad news.

And bad news had come indeed.

Rhaenyra and your father Daemon, as well as Lucerys died in a car accident.

The news was debilitating for you and your walls had broke down.

You called Jacaerys in the middle of the night, and when he seen that call he knew only the worst had happened.

He answered, his voice shaking. “Y/N?”

“Jacaerys.” You sobbed into the phone hysterically. “Jacaerys, come home please. You have to come home now.”

“Y/N, I’m on my way. Y/N, please please calm down, you’re scaring me. I’ll be there in the morning. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No, Jacaerys, just please get home as soon as you can.” You sobbed, and he heard your brothers crying in the background too.

“Okay, okay.” He said, beginning to cry. Cregan heard the commotion and awoke from his side of the dorm.

“Are you alright, brother?” He asked, his voice groggy with sleep.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. Y/N called me freaking out, the twins and Joff were crying too. I don’t know what’s going on. I think it’s my parents.” Jace said crying.

“I’ll drive you to London.” Cregan said, immediately dressing.

“You-sob-don’t-sob-have to.” Jace cries.

“Dude, you’re in no condition to drive. Don’t worry about it.”

“B-But it’s a four hour drive and there’s-sob-classes-“

“Dude. It’s fine. Alpha Drac for life, right? I’ve gotchu.”

Cregan drove them to London without stopping once, speeding 15 over the limit the whole time. Jacaerys cried half the car ride, then fell asleep the second half.

Cregan pulled down your street, waking Jacaerys before reaching the driveway.

“Be safe. Call me when you can.” Cregan says, but Jace was already sprinting out of the car door and tripping up the stairs.

He burst into the door, saying your name, mom, luke, anyone.

He ran into the living room, waking you from the couch where you had pulled out the hide-a-bed and were sleeping with the twins and Joffrey.

You immediately started crying when you saw him, trying to stay quiet so you didn’t wake the boys.

“Oh, Jacaerys.” You pulled him into a hug, and you both sobbed into each other.

“Is it mom and Daemon?” He asked, knowing the answer but fearing the worst.

You nodded. “And Lucerys.”

Jace pulled away from you. “You’re lying.” He said in a whisper.

“No, Jacaerys, please listen-“ He turned and walked away from you upstairs. You followed right behind him as he turned into Luke’s empty room.

He fell onto Luke’s bed, screaming into the pillows. You laid behind him, rubbing his arm and sobbing into his back. You kissed his shoulders, quietly saying a prayer for your broken family.

He sat up, “Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick.” He said, leaving to the bathroom.

You followed again, holding his hair back as he got sick into the toilet and sobbed. You sat on the edge of the tub, and when he was done he rested his head onto your thighs continuously sobbing while you rubbed his hair and sobbed with him.

You eventually walked downstairs when the sun began to rise, and you both laid down and fell asleep next to your brothers, not letting go of each other once.

You both only slept for a few hours before you woke up, seeing your brothers awake and sitting in silence.

“Jace.” Joffrey said, and he and the twins all moved to lay on Jacaerys. He held them, wanting to cry more but there was nothing left.

“Kids?” The door opened and Rhaenyra’s aunt and uncle Rhaenys and Corlys, her cousin Laena, and your cousins Baela and Rhaena walked in.

Rhaenys and Corlys were also Jace, Joffrey and Luke’s godparents. Joffrey and Jace immediately greeted them, while you and the twins remained seated. They were not your family, and you had only met them a few times.

Your father could be an ass, so he had a lot of enemies you could say, including majority of Rhaenyra’s family.

Thankfully they had been kind and sympathetic of your grief and the twins as well, knowing you all were now also without a father and mother. They were your father’s enemies, but not yours.

Corlys and Rhaenys pleaded with you and Jace to foster Joffrey so they could teach him about the Velaryon family business in overseas trading, as they had done with Lucerys.

You wanted the best life for your siblings, so you let Jacaerys decide for his blood brother. You knew Joffrey would be better off with them and his older cousins, but Jace said no.

“Our family is here. We need to stay together from now on.” He told his aunt.

“Jacaerys, you’ll have to return to Uni at some point. You’re so close to being done. How do you expect Y/N to raise three children on her own so young?”

“I’m not going back.”

“Jacaerys!” You yelled at him. “You have to finish school.”

“No. My decision is final. We’re staying together. Nobody raise the matter again.”

The funeral was a few days after that, and it had brought all of Rhaenyra’s family as well as Daemon’s weird and mysterious friends from all over the world.

People gave you and Jace their condolences, as well as tons of money. You knew Rhaenyra was rich from inheriting her father Viserys’ estate, which Jace would now inherit in turn, but Rhaenyra’s cousins and aunts and uncles and friends wanted to make sure you both were well set on top of that inheritance so that you and Jace could take care of your siblings with no trouble.

It was a generous thing, money, but it didn’t bring your family back. It didn’t matter how many checks they wrote, you couldn’t cash them to heaven.

“Brother.” A deep voice said.

You and Jace turn your heads to see Cregan and his sister approaching you.

“Cregan?” Jace embraced him in a hug, both of them holding each other for a moment.

“Hi, I’m Sara.” Sara said, taking the moment to introduce herself. “I’ve heard nice things about you.”

You turned your nose up at her, thinking she was being sarcastic. She wasn’t but despite your attitude she was polite to you anyway, knowing you were heavy with grief.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances.” Cregan says to you, hugging you as well. You appreciated them coming, knowing it meant a lot to Jacaerys to have them there.

Jace took your hand in his, both of you in all black, staring at the three caskets. You thought he held your hand for your comfort, but it was for his.

The guilt Jace felt was huge. He hadn’t been there, he had left to Uni for his own selfish reasons. It didn’t matter how many people told him it was okay, he was trying to get an education, it wasn’t the real reason he was there. He left to get away from you.

And that own selfish reason he had for leaving… he thought it could be the reason why your parents and brother were now in the ground. If he had stayed, they might have too.

“Jace?” Your voice was muffled. “Jacaerys?”

“Hm?” He asked, your voice pulling him back to reality.

“They want you to say a few words.” You said. He looked around, noticing his family was looking to him to say the final goodbyes.

“Will you come with me?” He asked. You nodded, standing with him to look over the caskets.

He said a few words of love and praise to his now lost family, holding your hand the whole time. You both couldn’t recall what he said, only having said it for the others around you.

You both grabbed a pile of dirt, throwing it onto the caskets. Jace winced when it landed on Luke’s.

“Are you okay?” You asked, rubbing his arm. He shook his head no. You brought his head to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. “Me either. But we’ll be okay… someday.”

He liked to believe that what you were saying was true.

IIII - The Recovery

Jacaerys moved home, taking a leave of absence from Uni. They were more than generous with him, giving him as much time as he wanted to decide when to return. You begged him to reconsider, but he was set in his decision.

You both stepped into a parental role, playing mommy and daddy 24/7. And by god’s grace for some reason those kids to listened to you.

You did everything Rhaenyra and Daemon had done like bathing, cleaning, cooking, laundry, etc. You and Jace had become a power duo at the household chores just like they had.

Neither of you worked, taking time off to grieve and you also really didn’t need to work due to Jace’s inheritance.

You both contemplated moving. The house held bad memories for you both, but you dared not touch your parents and Luke’s room. Neither of you had the strength to even go in the rooms anymore, nor uproot your little brother’s lives by making them move from the house they were raised in.

You and Jace never talked about the night before he left, instead focusing on the chaos of two teenagers raising three young, rambunctious boys.

A year went by of this lifestyle, making it three years since your initial kiss and a year of your parent’s and brother’s passing.

In a way, you both had moved on. You were older, forced to mature quicker than you’d have liked, raising three kids, unable to focus on the past of what once could have been.

Cregan and Sara moved down to London following their final year at Uni, requesting you both to come out and celebrate their birthday.

You both hesitantly agreed, given the boys had all just left a day before to be with Rhaenys and Corlys for the summer, and you had not experienced what it was like to still be a young adult in almost a year.

You had nearly forgot life could be fun when you weren’t being a parent.

You all met up at a sports bar since Cregan had wanted to watch a soccer game, and it was packed.

You managed to find a table, but it did hardly anything. Bodies were packed in there like sardines to see the world cup final.

You and Sara both sat, sipping on a cocktail while the boys got more drinks. You weren’t particularly keen on being left there alone with her, given you hadn’t cared for her since you didn’t know what had gone on between her and Jace when they were at Uni.

You made polite small talk, but Sara was a certified yapper. She’d find anything to keep the dying conversation going.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Sara asked.

“Uh, nah. Haven’t really had the time nor the want with the kids and all.” You said, sipping your drink.

“Maybe you ought give girls a try.” She said. “I did once and I’ve never gone back since.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“What?”

“You’re… a lesbian?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” She said.

“Well, I thought you and Jacaerys-“

She spit her drink out onto you, laughing at even the idea. You wiped your face off with a napkin, trying not to smash your drink upside her head.

“And this whole time I had no idea why you hated me.” She sat back, crossing her arms and smirking. “No wonder… This whole time you thought I was in love with Jacaerys.”

You couldn’t hide the little smile that crept on your face.

“Oh, sweet thing… Jacaerys is all yours.” She looked over at him at the bar. “I think he always has been.”

“So… were there any girls at Uni?” You asked.

“A few.” She mumbled, hesitant on telling you. “I’m sure you had a few back here as well.”

She wasn’t wrong, but it still hurt knowing Jace had moved on too during the time. It hurt knowing girls were getting his love that you desperately craved.

“He told me and Cregan about your kiss.”

“That was a long time ago.” You say. “We both have bigger things to worry about now rather than a moment in time three years ago.”

“I know you love your brothers, Y/N. I know Jace does too.” Sara says. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself. It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.”

You looked at Jace, who was making his way back to your table with more drinks. His eyes caught yours, and he smiled at you. He didn’t do that a lot anymore since they died.

“I got you a negroni, my lady.” Jace says, setting your drink in front of you. You roll your eyes with a smirk.

The four of you drank all night while watching the game, you and Jace loosening up the more alcohol you consumed.

The night had spiraled out of control, the four of you separating from each other.

You found yourself at the bar, ordering more drinks, Sara was in the bathroom with a girl, Cregan was busy arguing and growing closer to a fist fight with Germany fans, and Jacaerys was busy searching for you on the wrong side of the bar.

A man sat beside you by the bar while you waited.

“Her next drink’s on me.” He said to the bartender.

“No, that’s fine actually. I’ve got a tab open. My drunk friends will find out in the morning they paid for it.”

He laughed, and a blush creeped across your cheeks. “What if I had been ordering 15 shots? Then what would you have done?”

“I would have paid for 15 shots.” It was your turn to laugh now.

“What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Jason Lannister.”

“Nice to meet you.” You say. He was kinda cute, and the thought made Sara’s words from earlier echo in your head.

It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.

“Actually, you can pay for my drink.” You say.

He smirks, pulling out his wallet. “What’s your poison?”

“Surprise me.”

He bought you both a few rounds of shots, and you grew more confident and more drunk with each one.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom.” You drunkenly slur.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks. You say yes, taking his hand and dragging him along behind you.

You got lost on the way to the bathroom, instead ending up dancing in the middle of the floor.

You were chest to chest with him, his hand on your lower back as you leaned up to kiss him. Your hands held tight onto the collar of his shirt, which was keeping you from falling. He matched your energy with the kiss, his hand tangling in your hair.

His other hand snaked its way to your inner thigh, his fingers tickling the skin under your skirt.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Huh?” You pulled away to ask Jason, drunkenly wondering how he was able to talk while kissing you.

But it wasn’t him yelling, it was Jace.

Time slowed down for a second, and it all happened in slow motion as you watched Jace swing his arm to hit Jason in the jaw.

Jason stumbled, holding his jaw and glancing back and forth between you, Jace, and Cregan who had noticed the commotion and came to back up Jace.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” Jason yelled at you, pushing your shoulder lightly, but you were drunk and uncoordinated so you fell.

Jacaerys practically jumped on Jason after that, punching him over and over in the face.

“Jacaerys, stop, now!” You yelled. “Cregan, stop him!”

Cregan didn’t help the situation, only helping Jacaerys jump Jason.

“Oh my fuckjng God.” You yelled to yourself, trying to pull Cregan and Jacaerys off of Jason.

Bar security came, kicking you all out and banning you forever. You didn’t care about that though, you were just pissed at Jace for embarrassing you like that.

You, Cregan, Jace, and Sara took the taxi home in silence.

Cregan and Sara had immediately went to bed downstairs, while you angrily stormed up to your room.

“Are you seriously angry with me?” Jace asked, following you into your room and closing the door.

“Get out, Jacaerys.” You said, both of you sober by this point from all the adrenaline of the last hour of events.

“I was just protecting you!”

“From what?” You laugh, frustrated.

He had no answer. He knew he had only attacked the guy out of jealously, seeing you kiss a man that should have been him.

“Why would you do that?” He asks, his voice laced with sadness.

“Do what?” You ask, rubbing your eyes as you felt a headache forming.

“Kiss him.” He said. You sighed.

“Because I wanted to. I don’t need you protecting me.” You looked at Jace, his signature pout forming. You glanced down to his hands, which were bloody and bruised.

“Jesus.” You mumbled. “Come on.”

You pulled him to the bathroom, making him sit on the toilet while you cleaned and bandaged his hand. He watched you the whole time, your eyebrows knit together as you focused on his wounds.

It was there it hit him, that he loved you. He was tired of burying that feeling. He loved you. He loved how you took care of your siblings, he loved how you immediately stepped into the role of a mother without ever complaining, he loved his life with you.

His hand caressed your cheek.

“Stop, I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore than you have.” You say. His fingers were gently gliding over your jaw, eventually taking a hold of it to make you look at him.

Your heart was racing, you knew what he was feeling because you felt it too.

“You’re mine.” He said, and without even thinking you smashed your lips onto his. He pulled you onto his lap, his damaged hands loosely resting on your waist.

Three years it had been since your first kiss, three years of longing and aching for him, trying to let the feeling go for the sake of your children.

It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.

You pulled him into his room, kicking the door shut as you fell onto his bed, just like the first time.

He nestled between your legs, kissing you intently. He moved his lips down, pressing kisses on your neck and chest.

You whimpered, your fingers toying in his hair.

“I need you, Jacaerys.” You whisper.

“Fuck, I need you more.” He whispers back.

You sit up on your knees as Jacaerys stands. You pull his shirt gently off him, avoiding his hands, and move to helping him undo his belt and pants until he’s in only his boxers.

You undress your torso, then wiggling to kick off your skirt to reveal your thin little panties.

“You might have thought you had a mission but really you had a death wish going out in those.” Jace said, pressing his lips onto the thin black lace. He kisses your wetness, moving your panties to the side so he can eat. His tongue glides into your cunt, making sure to lick and taste the sweetest parts.

“So possessive, and for what?” You moan, your fingers gripping his curls.

“Because you’re mine.” He says into your heat, and you moan at his voice.

He eats you with a burning desire, a taste he had dreamt about for years. He’s messy, yet coordinated, kissing and sucking just the right spots to make you melt onto his tongue. He was starved for you, and now he eats as if he’ll never eat again.

You chase the release, grinding your hips into his face.

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” You whine, your hand trembling in his curls. He moans into your heat, pushing you over the edge. You spill onto his tongue, and he doesn’t miss a drop, licking as long as he can until you’re shaking.

You go to kiss him, but he pulls away. “I’ve still got you on my lips, I wanna savor it as long as I can.”

“You can’t share?” You tease.

He shivers at your words. “Ooh, don’t test me.”

You settle for kissing his neck instead, pulling him by his hips between your legs to make him grind onto you.

You feel his length inside his boxers against your heat, and you shiver at the size.

“Don’t keep me waiting any longer, Jace.”

“How long have you been waiting exactly?” He teases.

“A long time. Longer than three years.” You say. He finally presses his lips back onto yours, his hand weakly kneading your breast. You gently take his hand in yours, guiding his weak fingers.

“I wish my hands weren’t numb.” He moans between kisses.

“What-“

“Sh, it’s fine, just keep kissing me.” He says, refusing to let you break away. His tongue plays with yours, and your lips are bruised and swollen from the eagerness of his.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” You moan, trying to push down his boxers to rub his length.

“Just like you were at the bar, walking around in that tight little black skirt, kissing on guys who had no business even breathing the same air as you.

You finally reach your hand in his boxers, eliciting a gasp from him as you rub his length. You push his boxers down, and he pulls your panties off you.

You rub his length against your wet slit, moaning as you guide him inside you.

“Baby.” He moans. You shiver at the pet name, wanting to hear more of his sweet voice. He rests his weight on his fore arms, kissing and sucking on your neck to leave marks. His thrusts are fueled with love, unlike ones you’ve felt before from others.

He fucks you so sweetly, pulling away your neck so he can look in your eyes. He holds your hips into the bed, fucking you. You moan and whine, gripping his wrists for support.

“Say you’re mine.” He moans.

“I’m yours. Fuck, Jace, I’m all yours.”

“Yes, my girl. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He says, his words sultry and low.

“I’m so in love with you.” You moan, lost in lust.

“I wish I could fuck you all night long.”

“Don’t worry.” You moan. “We’ve got a lifetime to do that.”

“Fuck, I love you so much.” Jace moans. “I’m so in love with you it hurts.”

He nestles into your neck, and you hold him close to you, moaning in his ear.

You feel his thrusts grow sloppy, and he shakes as he grows close to his release. He fucks you so deep his pelvic bone rubs your clit, drawing you closer too.

You pull him by his neck into your lips again as you both cum. He fills you up, warm and deep inside your stomach as he moans into your lips.

“Fuck, fuck.” He pulls out, gasping. He looks into your eyes, both of you catching your breath and coming down from what just happened.

“Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks, still shaking him his release.

“No, Jace.” You say, tucking a curl behind his ear. “You were perfect.”

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

He lays beside you, resting his head on your shoulder. “What happens now?”

“We…” You say, not knowing where to start.

Your whole life had been uprooted. Both of you had done nothing for yourselves, until now. You both had a choice to make. You could quit living half a life, one foot in one foot out the door, doing your duty yet nothing for yourself. Or, you could get busy living. Take care of your brothers, love each other endlessly, make the most out of your life and your love like your parents would have wished for you both.

“I think we just start enjoying it.”

“Enjoying what?”

“Our lives.” You look at him, and you take his bruised hand in yours.

“Together.”

[peachesofteal]

This post contains resources for leaving a domestic violence situation (in the United States). If you have additional domestic violence resources from other countries/places in the world, please leave them in comments.

This is a content warning: beneath the cut is a conversation about Simple Math, domestic violence, and my boundaries.

Hi.

I want to preface this conversation by telling you how much I love you all. I'm so grateful to the little community that we've built here, and I really feel like we've created a space where we can talk to one another comfortably. I adore interacting with you all and I've been pleasantly surprised at Simple Math's reception. I knew writing a fic with a character who had survived domestic violence would open a certain kind of conversation, and I'm okay with that, to an extent.

That being said:

For my own peace, I ask that you refrain from sending me GRAPHIC messages about your experience with domestic violence. If you are a victim/survivor/witness/etc, and you want to open a conversation with me reference your experiences and/or trauma, I am absolutely okay with that as long as it's done in an appropriate way. A lot of us can relate to Bun, and I don't have an issue sharing enthusiasm for the story in relation to your life. I am not okay with DMs or anonymous messages detailing graphic descriptions of abuse. You don't know me, my personal life, or the things I've experienced, and sending a detailed play by play of your past or current experiences (without even a warning) is not okay. I understand that you need someone to talk to, or maybe even someone to ask for advice, but I cannot read the graphic nature of these messages, and I encourage you to turn towards someone who knows you personally so you can receive help. Leaving the details of a current or ongoing domestic violence situation in my inbox, with no way for me to report what is happening or ability to get you any kind of help or resources, cannot happen. Domestic violence is a crime. In the case of physical abuse, it is a violent crime. Please do not detail violent crime to me in my inbox.

I consider myself to be a kind person. I try to help my community in real life and here as much as I can. I strive to make this a space where you feel comfortable and welcomed. I enjoy the way we interact and talk about these stories. It pains me to have to write something out like this, but I really don't know what else to do. It's very upsetting to read a message from someone who possibly is being harmed, and then feeling like I'm screaming into a fucking void because it's an anonymous message and I cannot help.

I've included some resources below if you're in the US and need somewhere to start in regard to getting out of a domestic violence situation.

US resources: Phone: 800-799-7233 Text: Text START to 88788

Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support. Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support.

You are loved, even if it doesn't feel like it. You have the ability to do things you never could have dreamed of, and that includes getting out.

[brucewaynehater101]

God, all the miscommunication is so tasty and angst. Hear me out. One of the other workers asking Tim why he dresses up as one of them while he's in costume and he has to face the fact they know Jane Doe and Red Robin are the same person. So he ends up explaining to the 3 or 4 that are there to confront him that he's been doing this job because he feels he has to. At the start, back when he was Robin, it was because he needed information from someone and Batman said that the only people the person was loose lipped with was people he slept with. So Tim did it and got the information. And it was such an easy way to get the information they needed and they did need information, so he just. Kept going. And over time, being there with the others on the street felt safer than he did with the other Bats.

Tim is visibly surprised with that last part, the others can tell he hadn't fully realized that was how he felt until he started venting. Then he just looks at his hands and says softly, "they... they were supposed to be my family. They call me Brother. Why is it safer for me out here than with them? Why am i..I... *happier* talking with you guys than I am with them?" And they can see the tears starting to flow down his face a a lot of harsh reality is suddenly being shoved in Tim's face.

Those there tell others what he said and opinion of him quickly changes from Anger to Pity then eventually back to the friendly relationship he had before they found out. Tim finds out some where mad because he had "other options" when they don't and goes to those ones saying, "I have connections. What if I can get you a job? I can keep your pimp off your back, I can help you move I promise I'll keep you safe. If you told me you didn't want to be out here, I would have helped you. I swear." He probably gets rejected by the first few but when one does cautiously take the offer, he makes good on his word, getting them a job at WE and helping them get a new apartment outside of Crime Alley. Tim knows this will put a target on his back, but he doesn't care. When has he ever valued his own safety above others?

I agree that it might take a bit for them to trust RR when he guarantees them a job outside of the sex industry (especially if they've been doing that for a long time).

For this, I like that Tim has genuinely built up relationships with all of them. Even through the semi-identity reveal, most go back to supporting each other.

Tim is a sacrificial idiot and we love him for it. I wonder how much Jane can help out their fellow coworkers before they start refusing her (out of pride, distrust, fear, feelings of being a burden, etc). Let Tim find a sense of community even through the trauma of how that emotional support came to be

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD

STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS

picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health

-

“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”

jeremy u flirt

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do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?

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oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10

if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.

if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.

i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.

sending lots of love to all of u

-

wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?

-

It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.

fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene

-

Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”

jean moreau u are so loved

-

“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE

ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING

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Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him

-

betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug

and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-

“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.

CHAPTER TWELVEE

dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading

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“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.

king is fed uppp

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“It’s not about size, anyway.” ​“Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. ​Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U

-

“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”

GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN

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“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”

now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact

“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,

this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash

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“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” ​“Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”

NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP

YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON

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CHAPTER 13333

jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him

meanwhile jean:

Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.

sureee buddy

-

They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.

well that is definitely an outfit!

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“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”

EXCUSE ME

this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships

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ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER

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‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’

uhhhhh…

i don’t know how to tell u this buddy

-

dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy

chapter 14!!!

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Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” ​Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” ​Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.

oh jean we’ll get there eventually

-

Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.

OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE

MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR

-

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”

-

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”

“Neither am I.”

TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST

-

everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept

-

kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life

they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” ​“I will wait as long as it takes,”

“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”

-

“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. ​“Obsessed,” Jeremy

exy fiend kevin day representation

also

“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil

-

She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.

this is the love jean deserves

chapter 15:

“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”

jean i love u

-

Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,

he’s so me

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“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR

-

i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:

due to egregious injuries.” ​Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.

it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character

-

“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. ​“Denied,” White said.

SCREAMING

THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT

-

JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT

catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u

-

jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world

-

So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.

oh god don’t do this to me

-

Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.

beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate

A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.

A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS

-

SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO

“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”

starting off strong

-

You’re one of my kids now.

don’t mind me i’m just sobbing

-

no no no no no no no no no

holy shit no what the fucking fuck

don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now

actually dreading reading on right now

-

um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read

i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing

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Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” ​“I do not want you to look.” ​It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,

-

only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him

chapter 17 the finale:

feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book

please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau

-

nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???

-

i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007

-

jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god

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“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?

stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?

stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i

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Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”

NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER

-

Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.

devouring these scraps about my boy

-

YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY

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Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day

- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us

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The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”

oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book

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“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”

to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together

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“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”

my hero

Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,

i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph

Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” ​“Shut up and get in the car.”

i wish neil josten was real

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He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT

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Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”

he’s everything to me 🥰

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“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.

and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”

- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn

-

ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope

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“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”

oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud

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“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”

THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE

all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon

-

i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do

best friends ❤️

-

jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him

A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS

!!!!!

I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK

[popawritter12]

Yandere! Raiden headcanons

SINCE NOBODY ASKED I COOK YANDERE RAIDEN HEADCANONS 🗣🗣🗣🗣

Probabilities that your loved ones will be killed.

With Raiden not much… Although we talk about someone “a little” unstable, I don't see him as someone who is capable of immediately jumping to murder. We are talking about a probability of 20% or more.

If it's not a threat, it doesn't have to die.

Now, if we talk about Jack, things gonna change.

Jack is… someone almost completely different from Raiden, and if he sees that he spends more time with you or you like that person more than him, then he directly kills him. We are talking, in a few words, about a probability of 60% or more.

First impressions

Let's say you knew him before the cyborg parts were implemented, you knew so much about his history from other people, and while he acted reserved towards you, it wasn't hard to tell that you were willing to be nice to him, even if he didn't like ask you for help.

You were like that with people; friendly and likes to help, very loved in your circle of friends and family.

Fall in love

After helping him several times, (This may include helping him with the Sunny issue, overcoming certain past traumas, or helping him in his relationship with Rosemary and his son), he knew he could trust you, almost unconditionally, and in his mind, the idea slowly began to arise that you could be hurt, no matter if it was by machines, by one of the many battles in which he fought, and so it continues with more and more reasons.

Beginning of "Yanderism"

You discovered his past (something he had hidden even from his own wife), and although you tried to hide what you knew, sooner or later he found out, but still, you showed your support for him, even after everything you knew and what you had seen it happen, you tried to stay in contact with him just so you could show that you were always there for him.

During the revengeance events, Jack is the one who forces him to think that he must keep you safe. Someone he cared so much about could be hurt by soldiers or a member of the World Marshal, and it was the last thing he wanted.

His desperation slowly consumes him, and you notice it in small things when you talked to him (whether it was how he insisted that you could be safer if you stayed in contact with him, or how he would look at the people in your life). around).

First murder or Yandere act.

From his constant concern for you, you try to tell him that you will be fine, that there is nothing that can harm you or that he wants it at that moment.

So, because of that, he ends up… looking for other ways to keep an eye on you.

It seemed strange to both Sunny and the others the moment they noticed that he needed to watch you, but they never dared to ask.

And when Bladewolf finally asks him, he just answers; "It's for they own safety."

It was just the beginning, just a quarter of what he would be able to do.

Relationship or kidnapping

In case there is a relationship, he would be calmer; His stability would be “more regular” and you will very rarely see Jack, since he tries to stay on the sidelines with you (Although only if you ask him or are comfortable with it, he will be able to show more of the more obsessive side of him) .

However, if we talk about there being no relationship… Things get from bad to worse.

The obsession slowly consumes him, not just talking about his side.

You notice how your environment changes; You feel watched, like something is following you, especially in your home.

You tried to get away from him, not directly, but from his surroundings, from everything he is, from all the death he brings. And he realized it.

He also tried to tell himself that it was okay, that you would be safe, happy, safe from everything bad in the world… but without him. The thought that you couldn't be by his side makes him realize that he couldn't let you go. So, if you were going to the safest place in the world, I couldn't let you walk away from it.

You were already part of his life, you were buried deep in his psyche, so he couldn't let you abandon everything, he knew that that hole you would leave was going to end up driving him crazy, so there had to be some way… any way.

And he had to do it, he had to resort you to confinement, and before you could barely notice it, you were in a place that was not yours, clinging now to a life you never wanted in the first place.

Coexistence

If the case is of a couple, the coexistence is pretty… good, so to speak.

If it doesn't bother you that he needs to touch you whenever he can or that he needs to have you within reach of him every day of your life, then you're fine.

Now, if we talk about the kidnapping, then it is tense, very, very tense.

He usually forces you to eat if you don't want to (He most likely forces your jaw, which is not very difficult for him), he lets you go out sometimes, of course as long as he can track your location and that you are always within reach him (Or being accompanied by him.)

An advice; don't try to escape with this type of Yandere, it doesn't suit you even consider it in your mind.

Marriage and family

He doesn't see it necessary to get married, I mean, for him you are already his, why bother with anything else?

That and considering the bad experience with a past marriage.

Now, regarding your family…

Let's say that he cares from little to nothing.

Unless that is strictly related to one of the people he's up against, he is not interested in act.

Now, if they do tend to “hang out” with you or be very close to you, let's just say that Jack wouldn't take it very well.

Be careful if you see that they tend to be too close to you.

↘If possible, children?

Let's see, yes but no.

Let's say that he ALREADY HAS a son, and the relationship he has with him is not usually talked about much, but it can be summed up by saying that it is going well.

I assume he's not exactly looking to have a child with you, but if you ask him… he'll agree.

Reasons to be a Yandere:

Meu deus.

This is going to be long.

-Shitty life, in short.

Since he was a child, Raiden was forced to not only not live his childhood, but it also led him to not be able to have a normal life; A person who has lived through so many things will not be able to have a good normal relationship.

-He lost a lot of people; not exactly talking about Rose and their son, but about the people around him. It is normal for someone like this to HAVE inclinations to be overly protective.

-At the end of Revengeance, we note that he accepted that he could never come close to a normal life; He had already come a long way just to accept that fact, so it would be easier for him to cross that moral barrier that divides the beginning of Yanderism from the end.

-His other personality literally has blood lust; It's not just about killing because it's the only thing he knows how to do, but that part of him loves having the blood of others on his hands.

-You're… weak around him. Regardless of whether you are a man with superhuman strength or a woman capable of creating weapons with incredible capabilities, you cannot defeat him, you cannot defend yourself from him, which makes him think that you need his protection.

-Let's add the fact that, following this story, if you were accompanying him in his most vulnerable moments, he would have some dependence on you; having someone who supports him unconditionally is… strange, it's so strange that he feels the need to keep him safe, he has to keep that person safe.

Extra data:

-He likes to be by your side in e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g (like most Yanderes btw), if you cook, he is hugging you or giving you some help, if you do paperwork he stays by your side while you read, etc…, although, unlike other Yanderes, his presence is silent, it's almost as if he just wants to casually walk around you.

-In the case of kidnapping, he usually cooks for you, but he longs one day for you to be the one who voluntarily cooks for him.

-(This information is half NSFW)

Raiden will, under no circumstances, ever force you to do anything wrong, however, Jack… Yes it is; and it is one of the reasons why Raiden always tries to stay out of the way so that nothing bad happens to you.

-If anyone else finds out that you are being held against your will, the best thing they can do is try to talk to Raiden to convince him that there are other options. And let's just say that if he decides to take drastic measures… alive won't end.

-I want to mention that, for me, Rosemary feels empathy for you; At first she found Raiden's obsession with you strange, and then she tried to help him so he wouldn't end up developing that sick feeling, but believe me, her insistence didn't last long…

[merci-bitch]

I need some headcanons with Olivia Benson 🤧

hi, been a while haha. Got lots of these I’m trying to work through, thank you all for being patient <3

It’s a bit long, whoops

gotta love Livy love

- Alright so

- You two weren’t meant to be a thing

- But as Noah says, “Fate!”

- He’s you biggest supporter

- You arrived a few months before Amanda, so you worked with the team when Elliot and Olivia were still partners

- Back then everything was alright and Olivia found you sweet

- After Elliot left and Amanda arrived, she despised you, like she despised Amanda

- Both you and Amanda kinda bonded over it

- You felt very out of place but Amanda kept you grounded and you grew close

- It wasn’t until much later Olivia started changing, becoming nicer towards you and Amanda, silently apologising for her behaviour

- You were there through everything like everyone else

- The WL time and when she found Noah

- Always offered to help her with Noah, and she was always grateful for it

- You two grew close over time and felt safe with each other

- The team is your family

- You two weren’t planned or even suspected to become a thing

- It happened after she and Tucker broke up

- You were with her one evening and it just happened

- A kiss

- The rest is history

- Noah is the one who convinced his mum to let you move in with them

- “Sleepovers every night!”

- She couldn’t possibly say no to his puppy eyes

- Or yours for that matter

- Olivia absolutely loves that you and Noah get along so well

- Before you moved in when you came over, you seemed far more interested in Noah than her

- She loved it

- Noah is a big part of her and his opinions matter as much as her own

- Time pass by and now you’ve been together more than two years

- Olivia is now captain

- And boy oh boy

- Olivia is a gentle lover

- The best of the best

- She’s got trauma and a lot of things going on

- But she’s so grateful to have someone who doesn’t question her feelings

- Someone who treats her like a normal person

- You were one of the only people to treat her normally after WL

- Not as someone who’s broken

- She’s comfortable and safe with you and for her that means everything

- She trusts you

- Which is a huge deal for her

- Specially after Elliot

- She’s the big spoon

- Even though sometimes she just wants to be held close

- Loves late nights with you

- And Noah of course

- Her beautiful boy

- He’s growing so fast

- Almost makes her cry

- Noah knows the story of when you first got to SVU, but he gets just as offended when you tell him how his mother suddenly stopped being nice

- How she despised you and auntie Amanda

-“Mom!”

- And as much as Liv scolds you for telling him the story over and over again, she sends you sneaked winks

- Small touches here and there

- Enough to keep you grounded

- No PDA

- But if it’s a late night, or empty office, she won’t say no for a quick kiss

- The slight panic in her whenever you’re hunting down suspects and she hears a gunshot and can’t see you anywhere

- You once got shot and Liv nearly killed you herself in worry

- You tried to make a joke out of it as you lay on the ground with her hands pressed against your wound

-“I’ve fallen for you, Benson”

- She hates your jokes

- Noah finds them funny, and apparently that’s the only thing that matters

- You and Noah always make little surprises for her

- On Christmas, Mother’s day and her birthday

- Flowers, cakes, drawings, anything

- It’s the cutest thing ever

- You really turned her life upside down, but for the better

- Liv Love Laugh

[theflyindutchwoman]

You can choose to see that tattoo as your greatest failure. But I see it as proof that you're a survivor. It wasn't your day of death, Officer Chen. It was the first day, of the rest of your life. And no one can take that away from you.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 2.12 - Now and Then

This has to be my favourite moment, along with Lucy making an audiobook for Tim… Maybe it is because these two scenes have a very similar vibe… both of them taking place in the gym… with both Tim and Lucy working through their frustration in the same fashion… and making the other feel more empowered… Back then, she was fiercely telling him that his 'learning disability' was nothing to be ashamed of, and instead, was a strength… And here he is, saying something akin, just as passionately : that her tattoo isn't a sign of weakness or failure on her part, but one of strength. Of resilience. It's more than just reassurance : it's really about empowering the other… And this is genuinely a beautiful and powerful message, that epitomises their relationship perfectly...

The way the camera focuses on Lucy's DOD tattoo, with Tim appearing in the background, before he fully comes into focus, is brilliant. Him looking away, pretending he hasn't seen it, out of respect for her and complimenting her instead, is such a simple, but meaningful thing. Just like how he refuses to take any credit for the way she is. The reverence and pride in his voice are all for her. He's trying to drive his point home, but Lucy is not hearing him. Or at least, not entirely. He's about to leave before changing his mind. You can see the moment he decides to go for it and really talk to her. Something he has been trying to do already, like after he heard she was involved in a shooting : only, he kept it light in that moment, not daring pushing her out of her comfort zone. But his conversation with Nolan made him reconsider his approach, once he realised that her friends were too focused on her tattoo, treating its removal as a magical cure to her emotional wounds. No matter how well intended they are, it doesn't work like that. Something he knows all too well.

So instead, Tim opens up about his own traumatic experiences, share his own history and scars to help her… And this is huge for him. Lucy might have known about Isabel, but this is the first time he mentions his childhood and his dad to her (at least, as far as we know : he did it once while playing football with AJ, but she wasn't around). It's a very personal and intimate topic and the fact that he willingly shares this vulnerable part of himself with her says a lot on how much he trusts her. And it also feels natural : they were already getting closer, but regardless, this is the same man who opened up about his personal life on her second day. He has seen how she was there for him time and time again, with Isabel of course, but even recently, with how she made him feel safe after discovering he was a kinesthetic learner. So now, this is his turn to do the same for her, to respond in kind. And it parallels what Nyla was trying to do with Lucy when she shared her very own experience in the shop… and with Tim when she shared pieces of it in order to convince him to let her ride with Lucy for the day. He took a page from Harper's playbook, understanding that it might help Lucy more.

But unlike Nyla, Tim goes a step further. The reason why Lucy wasn't quite as receptive with her is that she needed more than empathy. It helped her of course, but what she requires even more is seeing her trauma in a different perspective. To see it through someone else's eyes. Tim's eyes. They already have a special bond and his opinion matter a lot to her. She can get through to him like no one else and so can he. But this is even more important since they haven't been able to ride together since that fateful day. She thought at first that the change in TOs for the day was a Tim Test. So it is primordial that she knows he doesn't think less of her. Just like he probably also doesn't want someone else he cares about to believe they're not living up to his standards… And at first, Lucy was getting frustrated with him as well. Even angry that he wasn't getting it. Until he started to emphasise on the fact that she didn't die, that she's still very much alive and therefore won, just like she defiantly warned Caleb in her last words to him. He's trying to get her to focus on that victory. That what she sees as a sign of failure, is instead a sign of resilience. Of her own strength. And I absolutely love how going forward, she will rub her tattoo whenever she's getting nervous, as a reminder of this. Because this is such an earnest and powerful message. At no point does he tell her what to do with this or how to feel about it - which was inadvertently what Jackson and Nolan were doing. It's simply about pushing her to see things under a different prism so she can make an informed decision. One that will bring her peace. To help her see herself the way he does : as a survivor, as someone who saved herself. Not a victim. It's about her retaking some control of her own story. And this time, she gets his message… The way she is clearly moved by his words, tearing up, just shows how much she needed to hear these words. Especially from him.

The tone of the scene instantly changes after that, becoming much lighter… Without undermining the core message either. This is a much needed respite, after that intense conversation. Tim looks so self-conscious and bashful when Lucy thanks him, like he's suddenly feeling under the spotlight. His whole demeanor - hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet, asking her if she's riding with him - feels very much like a teenage boy asking the girl he has a crush on to go on a date with him, while trying to be nonchalant about it. His beaming smile when she agrees is adorable. Her laughter as well… It's clear he has missed riding with her. They both have.

And that leads us to that last part : Tim giving Lucy back her ring. The one she left behind for him to find… There are so many symbols here… Like the fact that he had it in his pocket the whole time, even though he was about to leave her alone at first… The implication that he kept it with him, that he hung on to it, as a reminder that she was safe now, that he found her… It's how he's playing with it as well, as if a part of him is a bit reluctant to part with it… It's the way they don't even need words : they both understand the underlying message… It's in his smile before he leaves, the admiration he feels for her shining bright in his eyes… Or her surprise and delight when she catches her ring, having the confirmation that she was right to have so much faith in him… And how overwhelmed she is, to know that this tiny piece of jewellery, thrown as a last-ditch effort, saved her… That she saved herself. This moment encapsulates everything he has previously said in a very poetic manner… It was the perfect conclusion. Melissa deserves all the credit here for pitching this idea to the showrunners and writers, who, then, turned it into this wonderful scene. And hopefully, there will be a follow up one day on this...

[sleepingdeath-light]

s/o with a similar curse to eda hcs ; hunter

requested by ; anonymous (27/04/23)

fandom(s) ; the owl house

fandom masterlist(s) ; main | hunter-only

character(s) ; hunter wittebane

outline ; “Oh ho ho what about a Hunter x reader but the reader has curse similar to eda's (and maybe a little angsty if the reader happens to be cardinal themed >:3)”

warning(s) ; references to isolation, angst, angst -> fluff, brief reference to body horror, canon typical violence

by the time the two of you had met, hunter would have had his fair share of encounters with cursed witches

including eda before and after gaining control of her owl beast

which means that he would likely have been the first witch that you’d encountered in years that wasn’t immediately terrified of you and wanted you dead, captured or worse

it was confusing for you at first — well, for a while actually — and you were constantly on edge waiting for him to reveal his secret evil intentions

which he didn’t have, of course, but you had no way of knowing that

better to be safe than sorry, especially after spending your life running and hiding from people that wanted to torture and mutilate you and your beast

especially as your curse drained your magic and left you defenceless beyond that secondary form — the form that drew all of that negative, deadly attention to you in the first place

but over time you began to let your walls down around hunter — opening up bit by bit until you started to consider him your friend and, eventually, something more than that

something you never thought you’d get the chance to have because of your curse

and you were absolutely terrified of losing him like you’d lost your other loved ones

the memories of your bones contorting and breaking and reforming, and your skin stretching as you lost control of your body were so close to the forefront of your mind not to worry — you could still taste the metal on your tongue and feel the stringy flesh between your teeth if you thought about it for long enough

having some control over your curse didn’t mean that accidents couldn’t occur and you didn’t want to be another person to hurt him

to scar him like his ‘uncle’ had — leave him with more trauma and pain that he’d entered your relationship with — after he’d put so much trust into you

though through it all hunter continued to stand by you, to reassure and comfort you in private and to actively defend you whenever someone tried to harm you

you lost track of the amount of times that you had to patch him up and clean blood out of his clothes

his loyalty and determination to stand by you only faltered once — the first time he saw your cursed form

red feathers with spots of black here and there and about your face; large wings that curled around you like a crimson cape with darker feathers at the edges; eyes that looked so familiar

painfully familiar, a walking reminder of the first entity that saw good in him

the image of the being that saved his life more than once

a cardinal. a stunning red cardinal.

you’d never seen him cry until then, and he was sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe and collapsing to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself tightly

and you didn’t know what to do, immediately turning back and cautiously approaching him

every cell in your body crying out for him yet you stood a distance away as you apologised and asked him what you could do to help

promising that you’d never turn back if that would make things better

you just didn’t want to lose him

and you wouldn’t

after taking some time to himself to grieve and mourn, hunter seeks you out again and explains, through tears, that he’s not afraid of you

that you’re beautiful

you just reminded him of someone that he loved and that he lost before you met

and he tells you about flapjack and his history and how he changed his life

and you say that you wished you could have met him

and he says that he would have loved you

[ember-owlet]

Hi hi :]] I practically did a little happy dance seeing blue eye samurai in your fandom list !

It's super easy for me to see Mizu as a regressor due to various reasons, particularly involuntarily! (And they very much deserve to catch up on their childhood)

So I think the formal request would be a headcanon post ! 👀 it doesn't have to be specifically regressor Mizu if you don't see her in that light /gen :]

I'm just happy someone else in this little corner of agere internet shares one of my interests !! ✨️🌿

a/c : hello!! aaa i'm ecstatic to know that you also enjoy blue eye samurai with an agere lens! despite the show's brutality, there are some really good nuggets of baby content to be found. i'd be happy to write some regressor! mizu headcanons for you as its about time i wrote something for them. and don't worry, i see her in the same light as well! feel free to send me your own personal thoughts on the characters/show to discuss as i'm thrilled to be in this corner of the agere internet with you friend. enjoy the headcanons! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ disclaimer! i do use primarily feminine terms when referring to mizu (they/she), but i do acknowledge that there are many interpretations of pronouns/gender identities to refer to the character as, and i find them wonderful! /gen

dynamic: regressor! mizu

content warnings: mentions of vent regression due to trauma, physical/mental anguish, light mentions of gender dysphoria ((stay safe little firelights, you can always come back to this when you're ready))

mizu has always been a trauma regressor to me, especially due to their lack of dealing with their feelings head on. their body would have to nearly force them to stop and take a break from their revenge mission and focus on recovering.

the first time she regressed would be terrifying to her, the feeling of being so out of control and helpless would make her hide away to try to push herself out of it as fast as possible.

it would take an incredible amount of time and trust developed before she felt safe around someone to tell, let alone show such a vulnerable state.

the select characters that i could realistically see her regressing around would be sword father or ringo.

if she were to regress voluntarily it would be to have the childhood that she wished she could have, one where she wasn't forced to grow up as a boy and to ease her gender dysphoria with feminine items/clothing.

she would be a very independent kiddo, not wanting to rely on others in fear that she would be an inconvenience or she would be punished for wasting someone's time after being treated as a monster for so long. if she were honest she genuinely wouldn't know how to react to such affection.

that being said, she needs gentle reassurance when in a younger state with a caregiver that helps her along the way. adding fruit/vegetables to her meals to make sure its balanced or mending their clothes would never go unnoticed and greatly appreciated.

she'd be so used to the feeling of being in pain or nauseous that she'd have a hard time differentiating pain that should be attended to or not. therefore her caregiver would need to keep an eye on her and remind her that any and all pain is worth looking at/caring for.

as a sentimental person she'd want to keep things gifted to her and wear or use them as comfort items until they physically can't be repaired anymore.

some of her favorite gifts would include free flowing or baggy clothes that she can keep close to her person for comfort.

her main comfort item is her sword, and would not be able to go anywhere or sleep without it clutched to her side as it reminds her of home and is something that she can rely on to keep her safe.

an actually extremely feral regressor as well if given the chance to be her true self (/lh /pos). i could absolutely see them wanting to play outside and then coming back home caked in mud and bruises while having the time of their life.

let her be a goofy kid!! growing up so fast from situations out of her control that she'd long for days where she'd let herself have fun.

LOVES going to the beach/aquarium. a true ocean lover whose favorite activities involve being around or in large bodies of water.

play fighting is a love language! she would love to wrestle her playmates/caregivers to see who is the strongest. as a physically stronger regressor she'd need to learn the value of her strength and to not be too rough if she were to get too excited.

they can get easily frustrated with creative tasks, and would prefer specific instruction in order to feel useful. it would make them the best helper around.

would love to play a game where they are the hero for once. (being called a monster can wear someone down mentally and it would definitely make her day to be seen as the hero of the story).

she also requires a ton of quiet time to allow her mind and body to rest. would she ever do it herself willingly is another question for another day, but she'd reluctantly do it if asked of her with sufficient gentle praise and coaxing.

as touch starved as they are, i can't see her being the one to initiate contact with someone unless the moment takes over her softer side and she can't help but wrap her arms around them or gently nudge them with her body to tell them that she's there and cares for them.

from her caregiver or those that she considers close she would accept forms of physical affection but wouldn't be too vocal on how much it means to her.

she'd believe that she'd never be able to repay her caregiver for their kindness but will continually try to find little things throughout the day to show them how grateful she is.

oddly enough i could totally see her gifting a sword to her caregiver as it is something that she believes she's good at and would work tirelessly day and night to make sure it's perfect.

despite being in a younger mindset she can and still would mean business to anyone who dares mess with her caregiver. even a baby phoenix still has talons.

[lunatic-pudge]

Goofy Ahh Blurb Time! Let's goooooo!

~

~

He was desperate, clingy, craving the love and acceptance of someone, anyone. He was a mess of a man. Prone to violent outbursts and easy to set off. The meth addiction and childhood trauma didn't help either. He was a constant ticking time bomb. Even when set off, the timer would just reset.

But despite this, you still love him.

He tried to be a good boyfriend, truly he did. He was always wanting attention. Clinging to your side demanding your love and affection. Rough and calloused hands would drag along your skin. Whispering words of praises and adoration. It was if he worshipped you like a deity.

And he did.

Words couldn't even begin to describe his love for you. He's a man who would kill for you. Anytime someone's gaze lingered a little too long on you, or someone thought they could take you from him, he'd already have the offender taken away waiting for a grisly fate. If anyone dare to show hostility to you, he was quick to come to your defense, ready to throw hands and bury bodies.

You were aware of his willingness to kill for you. He was never someone to hide the truth or dare lie. He hated lies. He hated when people couldn't be upfront. He was never scared to tell the truth. So he would be honest why he'd sometimes come home covered in blood. Why hide the truth? He was just trying to protect you. Keep you safe. You can't trust anyone. Those are the words he'd tell you. He was always paranoid about people coming after you. He knew it will inevitably happen. With the type of person he is and the things he does. He wasn't a good man. Far from it. And sue to that, people wanted to hurt him. Make him suffer.

But they were rather unsuccessful.

So here you two were. After fighting to get him to clean the blood and grime off of him, you both lay in his bed intertwined with each other. While he enjoyed being able to lay with you, he was restless. Constantly moving around and going on about his love for you. He couldn't help himself. He was obsessed. You were his God, and he needed to protect you from the horrors of man. And nothing would ever stop him.

[depressopax]

Please, headcanons of Mike with a (gender neutral) partner who is super loving and gentle with him. Like, they run him baths when he had a rough day at work, clean him up and kiss his bruises. They rub his back and shoulders or anything that's sore, make him special lunches and dinners. Just someone who loves him dearly and wants him to know they love him. Please and thank you! <3

Thank you for the request!! I got you, anon 🫡❤ (This idea is so cute AHHHH) Sorry for the long wait on this one! I struggled with writing this, idk why lol 😭 Anywayssss, enjoy and have a good day! <3

Mike returning home from work after a rough day - Headcanons

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort Warning(s): Mentions of blood, scars and traumas. Reader is gender neutral and referred to as partner. Words: 800 Summary: Being Mike's loving partner English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link soon!

Being with Mike means always worrying for him when he’s at work.

Especially when he’s gone for days, in places with little to no wifi, or when he simply can’t reach out to you.

He tells you “not to worry” which is easier said than done.

One night, he comes home to you waiting outside his house. You’d been waiting for him all evening, since you had a bad gut feeling about this particular mission.

You’re relieve you listened to your intuition, when you see him limping up to the door

Knowing somethings wrong, you’re quickly by his side to support him.

You’re used to him having a dangerous job, and he’s used to you being his worried partner.

At first he would refuse to tell you about work and be scared to admit when something happened - not wanting to upset you.

But of course it wasn’t easy to hide the truth from you.

You’re the first person he talks to when something happens

Probably the only one too.

But you appreciate it, and try to be there for him 

Providing him with love and comfort after rough days

“What the hell happened?” You asked him that night, when he came home all bruised up and exhausted. Stubborn as he is, he just replied with: “Nothing happened” A crystal clear lie, you can see the bruises on his face

You help him take the jacket off, seeing the wounds covering his body. 

This time he doesn’t protest. He likes it when you look after him, after all. 

“I’ll ask you again… What the hell happened, Mike?” He doesn’t really have any other choice but telling you the truth.

It’s not the first time he ends up wounded because of work, and not the last time, either. 

Luckily, he has you.

Before you met, he had to deal with all his pain and troubles alone, whether he wanted to or not. 

He really had no one to tell - He didn’t wanna worry his family, and didn’t trust anyone else

You’re the one he goes too. 

Not only because you’ve made him promise to do so, but because he trusts you, too. 

He’s too paranoid to go to the doctors, luckily you are used to dealing with his wounds and does so well

Homeboy trusts you wholeheartedly <3

Mike playfully calling you his “nurse” because of the amount of times you need to help him lmao

Apart from patching him up, you like making him feel safe and relaxed.

He does the same for you, of course 

The two of you just spoiling each other in all ways possible

At nights when he comes home from work, Mike and you end up in the couch, cuddling and watching some movies

If he’s tense, you have him rant about work, or whatever it is bothering him, while massaging his shoulders and/or back

He never asks for massages but loves them, but only if it’s you

Doesn’t matter if you’re bad at them, he just enjoys feeling your healing touch on his tense muscles

You have lot of inside jokes with him about people at work that annoys him - the list is long lol *cough* Walter *cough*

Mike has lot of scars - on his body and in his mind

His time as a cop, and as Gus' most trusted enforcer has left its marks.

He hates people looking at his scars, and avoids questions about it by hiding them.

You are one of the few that gets to see them, and that doesn’t judge him nor ask him uncomfortable questions about them.

But since he trusts you, he tells you about each scar he has and how he got them.

He’s not ashamed of them, just hates what they represent and reminds him off.

But you make sure to reassure him that you love him, listening to his stories, stroking your hands over each scar carefully and telling him he’s beautiful - and he LOVES it

Back to the night he comes home wounded - he tells you what happened whilst you clean his wounds, Mike grunting from the pain of the fresh bruises getting washed. 

You run him a bath to calm him down, making sure to show him you’re right there and not going anywhere.

He feels less tense after a while, thanks to your healing touch (he likes to call it that, since you always make him feel better)

You fix something to eat for the two of you, crashing next to him on the couch.

After a while, he falls asleep during the movie you’re watching, and you soon join him - being worried makes a person tired after all.

Mike wakes up hours later, feeling your warmth against him.

He’ll just look at and appreciate you, feeling lucky to have someone like you by his side. <3

[wigetta129]

Asylum AU Octonauts

Hey Octonauts fandom, how are you? For a while now, I've been thinking about this Octonauts Asylum AU. Honestly, I love these kinds of AUs, and I've seen many from different fandoms, so here’s the idea I had in mind. I hope you like it! And by the way, I already have several episodes done, but since it’s about neurodivergence and mental disorders and stuff, I was a bit indecisive about whether they were well represented. As a neurodivergent person, I really worry about this because there are so many stereotypes, and that really pisses me off.

Well, here’s a bit of context: Barnacles is a Navy veteran, and because of that, he’s dealt with trauma, plus his somewhat complicated childhood has only made his conditions worse. So, what do you think about this AU I’m working on?

TW: Mental health, intrusive thoughts, mild self-harm, mentions of suicide. ************************************************************************

"Agh," you groaned, making a sudden, sharp movement with your neck—a habit you couldn't help but indulge in.

You clasped your hands together and began cracking your knuckles, a small ritual that brought you some semblance of calm amidst the anxiety and stress that typically plagued your days. But today... today wasn't just any day.

You found yourself in an asylum—at least, that's what people insisted on calling it: an asylum. It wasn't your first time here, either. How many times had it been now, two? Three?

At present, you were in the room assigned to you by the staff, though in truth, you'd expected something more fitting for an inmate—a padded cell with a straitjacket, rather than this ordinary room with walls that wavered between pale blue and white, and casual loungewear that resembled something you’d wear at home.

You were perched on your bed, waiting for the dawn to break. Why the dawn? The answer was simple—you hadn't slept a wink all night, barely managing an hour at best. Your father had taught you how to tell time by the position of the moon and the sun, so it wasn’t hard to estimate that it must be around 5:24 in the morning. Yet, with winter in full force, daylight was still a distant prospect.

You got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom, intending to relieve yourself—or "relieve" yourself, as it were. After all, what else was there to do while waiting for daybreak? You slid back the curtain that blocked the entrance and went over to the sink, twisting the tap to drink from the faucet. The thirst was gnawing at you.

Once your thirst was sated, you wiped the leftover water from your hands and splashed some on your face and hair. Too bad there wasn’t a mirror; you would have liked to see how disheveled you looked.

Rubbing your eyes, you returned to the center of your room. It was chilly, but you couldn’t complain—the hospital socks they’d given you kept your feet warm, though you would have appreciated a pair of thicker pajama pants. But hey, you can’t have everything in life.

There was a rectangular shelf holding your clothes and a few glasses, some filled with water, others stocked with hygiene products like shampoo or soap. Not that you cared much about your physical appearance—it wasn't a priority to worry about body odor. Though you had bathed yesterday, more out of obligation than any real desire to do so.

Okay, so… the door to your little hospital cave had a lock, indicating whether it was secured or not. Usually, they were left unlocked so that any nurse or orderly could come in at will, like during sleep hours to check that all patients were safe and sound—an infuriating habit.

Then again, what could you expect? This place was for the mentally ill, not exactly the kind of people you could trust with enough privacy to hurt someone—or worse, themselves.

Wait, there was something on your right wrist. Something plastic. You glanced down and… oh, it was just your barcode wristband with your name, sex, and age.

Barnacles Carver Age: 27 Sex: Male

And an obvious string of barcode numbers beneath that. You already felt like a slave ready to be auctioned off at any moment.

You began gnawing at what little remained of your nails—because really, what else was there to do in this semi-spacious psychiatric room? You approached the shelf and picked up a white glass filled to the brim with ice. Whenever patients asked for water, nurses or doctors always delivered it more ice than liquid. Not that it mattered—it was all just water in different forms.

The ice had been sitting out for quite a while, yet some of it was still solid. You grabbed one that wasn’t stuck and, with a single bite, it turned to water in your mouth. As you crunched on the ice like popcorn, you wandered back to your bed and sat, legs crossed, occasionally stretching your arms or moving them in random directions.

By the time you looked back out the window, the glass was nearly empty, save for a few small ice chips floating in a pool of water. You placed it on the floor and laid back down again. Still no trace of sleep. But it was either this, or running circles around your room while talking to yourself. You already had thoughts that could be considered twisted by the average human, but to you, they were normal, even fascinating in a way.

Wars, death, murder—anything that involved leaving this world intrigued you. You’d seen things no one should ever witness, but you had seen them anyway, forced to.

Before coming here, you'd been reading about José Luis Calva Zepeda, a Mexican cannibal and serial killer. Though he didn’t have many victims—two at most that were known—you were deeply fascinated by him. He had been a poet who never managed to publish his novel, "Cannibal Instincts or 12 Days." You were particularly interested in how he had killed his victims and the contents of those writings. What a shame the novel never saw the light of day.

Your hand began to itch, so you scratched at the affected area. It didn’t take long for your battered nails to make contact with the rough, damaged skin between your wrist and knuckles. A few moments passed before you felt satisfied and looked down at your reddened hand. Damn, you should’ve been more careful to avoid this.

Still, it wasn’t the end of the world. Some small linear scars might remain, but that would only add to your time here. Not that you cared much anyway. After all, where were you going to go with Bianca?

Oh, wait… she was the reason you were here.

Well, wandering the streets was always an option.