#being absolutely down bad for someone way too okay with murder

[squircatlies]

Fictional gay people cannot just say "I love you" it always has to be some dramatic shit like "you are my purpose". Shut the fuck up. Your purpose is to look pretty and whimper while covered in blood.

[finelinevogue]

Hi babe! I absolutely love your work and read it everyday! Do you think you could do a blurb where its aaron x bau reader and the reader has a toxic/abusive family and hotch and the team find out about it on a case or something (angst but turns into fluff)? I LOVE YOUUU!!!

family is everything

hiya my lovely!! love you too :(( oh stop you’re far too kind omg 🥺 of course i can give this a go - hurt/comfort fics >>>

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

word count - +5.4k

cw: pre-established relationship, bad coping methods, mentions of childhood abuse, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Spencer was performing one of his magic tricks.

He had captivated the audience of more than half of the room, much to Hotch’s dismay.

“And this gets you girls?” Morgan questioned, perched on the corner of the desk adjacent to Spencer - which happened to be yours. “How?!”

You laughed along with the others as you spun yourself side-to-side in your office chair.

“It’s all in the mystery, my sweet one.” Garcia pinched Morgan’s cheeks. She was the only one who could get away with it.

“Oh I can do mystery.” Morgan added.

“But can you do… magic?” Reid asked as he ended the magic trick by holding out the correct card that Morgan had picked earlier.

“What?!”

“Yes Reid!”

“Pfft.. Whatever.”

Everyone started clearing away from Spencer’s desk, Morgan walking away with a sulk. Garcia lingered by Morgan’s desk no doubt attempting to cheer him up with her endless flirting.

When you’d joined the BAU you had seriously thought they were together.

Why wouldn’t you?

They constantly flirt. They’re almost crude with each other. Yet they had never even entertained the idea of being with each other.

It didn’t matter to you whether they were single or not though, because your heart was slowly being given over to someone else. Someone who happened to be your Unit Chief; Aaron Hotchner.

The relationship was still very new.

Your team knew about it, but it was still being kept quiet. That was just you and Aaron, though. You didn’t feel the need to be flashy with your relationship. In fact, you enjoyed living with each other in those quieter moments because it meant you had each other all to yourself.

It was that moment that you found yourself looking up to his office.

Aaron happened to walk out of his office at that exact moment, reading a case file in his hands.

You bit down on the pen you were holding as you watched him walk past, eyeing him up because you could now without consequence.

Aaron didn’t return the look but you did notice the smirk as he walked down the ramp towards the briefing room. It was like he could tell that you were looking at him. That made you smile, turning around in your chair to hide the blush from anyone.

"Think we've got a case?" Reid asked you.

"Probably. It's been at least two days since our last."

Both you and Reid stand up, prompting the others on your team to do the same. You as a team of profilers had gotten so used to what it looked like before a case was briefed that you just knew now, before JJ could even call you in.

JJ, Hotch and Rossi are all in the room already.

The case files were set out on the table - one at each seat. JJ had the screen set up ready to present and Hotch and Rossi were already looking through their files.

You sat down on the chair next to Hotch. They had kind of become your unofficial assigned seats.

"Okay JJ." Hotch nodded.

"We got a call from San Fransisco Police Department after a string of murders have been loosely tied together."

"Loosely?" Emily questioned.

"Several domestic abuse victims have been found murdered. Isla Hubert was strangled, Beth Fountain stabbed and Meredith Cole shot."

JJ flicked through the pictures of the women and you could feel your face go pale at the sight.

Your breathing hitched, but luckily nobody noticed.

Your hands scrunched up into fists so tight that your nails were digging into the skin of your palm. It was the only way to cope with this situation without drawing attention to yourself.

You focused as much on JJ presenting as possible.

"At first it was hard for the police to put them together since M.O.s were so different with each murder - hence, loosely - but after they looked more closely it turns out that each of the victims had recently left an abusive relationship."

"Suggests a possible revenge-motivated unsub." Reid added.

"Yeah." JJ nodded.

"How did the PD make the connection?" Morgan asked.

"All of the victims were women who had either filed restraining orders and, or had sought help from a domestic violence shelter." JJ switched the image on the screen to the shelter.

You looked down at your lap, your fists still enclosed.

You were normally very collected when cases were presented, but it was really hard with this one.

Not only is San Fransisco the city you grew up in, it also hosted that very domestic violence shelter that you used to go to every day.

It made you feel sick, because had this unsub been around ten years ago then that could have very well been you up there on the presenting screen.

<.><.>

You were gathering your stuff up on your desk when Aaron came over to you.

"Hey." You tried to smile but Aaron knew you better.

"Something's bothering you, so rather than have me tiptoeing around it I'm asking you to tell me what's wrong."

He sure doesn't beat around the bush.

Even though this case is horrendous for you, it did warm your heart a little to know that Aaron knew you so well only after a couple months of dating. Maybe it was the profiler in him, but you chose to believe it was simply because he cared about you.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Every man should know that when a woman says she's fine... she's not. Aaron did know that but he also knew not to push it right now.

"Okay."

After you stuffed your water bottle in your bag, Aaron caught your hand with his. He carefully opened your palm. You could feel the panic in your chest as he did so.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

He pointed out the crescent moon shapes you'd imprinted on your palms from your finger nails. He wiped his thumb over the skin as if they would magically just disappear. He probably wanted to kiss over them, but you knew he'd never do that in front of everyone here.

You couldn't answer verbally so you nodded your head instead.

<.><.>

Rossi and Hotch were the last in the room before leaving.

They both left and locked their offices at the same time. Both of them had their coat and bag hanging off an arm.

"Hotch."

"Yeah?"

"Y/N..."

"I know." Hotch cut his friend off before he could finish the sentence, already having an inkling of what he was going to say and not knowing whether her could stomach hearing it being said out loud.

<.><.>

On the plane there was more time for a brief.

You were sat leaning against a window at the table with four chairs, listening carefully to what was being said but making no effort to contribute.

"So there were no signs of sexual assault?" Emily asked.

"No." JJ shook her head.

"Well that eliminates some motives." Rossi said.

"Such as?" Garcia asked through the video call.

"Well we know he's not a sexual sadist now. It's almost like whatever he is doing is because he believes it's right. It's the only way." Reid explained.

You swallowed back the growing lump in the back of your throat as the team continued to talk.

The situation almost felt dissociative. You were physically here and physically involved and yet your brain kept trying to zone out of the conversation.

You looked out the window just as a memory flashed.

You laid on the floor of your bedroom - a room that was supposed to be yours and supposed to be safe. You had been sleeping when he had come in.

The door was wide open because you hadn't found the strength to stand back up again since he'd been in.

Your pyjamas were long length and yet you felt completely exposed. Tears fell down your cheeks as you stared up at the glowing stars on your ceiling, imagining a world where you could visit them right now. A world that was a little more silent and a little bit brighter.

All you could hear though was his voice saying, "I have to. It's the only way you'll ever learn."

"...And Y/N and Reid, you work on the geographical profile. Hopefully we can narrow down where these victims are being taken from." Hotch's voice brought you back from the memory.

You had clearly missed a lot of the conversation but no one pointed that out for the rest of the flight.

<.><.>

San Fransisco was just as dull as you remember it.

A lot of people who lived here, commuted through here or even visited here would think quite the opposite, but when a bad thing has happened to you in a certain place then that place becomes unworthy of its beauty.

As you continued to get set up in the police station Hotch asked you to step aside for a minute to talk to him.

You both stood in the cold and dark interrogation room so you could speak privately.

Your arms were folded over your body defensively as you stood waiting for Hotch to talk.

"Y/N, if this case it too much for you then..."

"Too much?" You chuckled, "Why would it be too much for me?"

Hotch sighed, "I don't know."

"Exactly Agent Hotchner, you don't know." You uncrossed your arms and walked towards the door - done with this conversation.

Aaron knew not to touch you in order to catch your attention, so instead he stepped in front of the door so you had no exit.

"Hey, don't do that." He said softly and you knew he was referring to the way you had called his name.

He had never really been Agent Hotchner, or SSA Hotchner, to you. He'd only been Aaron or recently in the quiet of your homes it had turned into a loving 'honey' or 'love'.

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you had put there.

"I'm fine." You repeated, feeling like you might be sick over saying those words again and again.

You thought you truly had been fine.

For the longest time all of this had been buried deep within you. Your job was so busy and hectic that you never really had the opportunity to think about your past. You had also been fortunate that there had been no domestic abuse cases so far in your year working for the BAU.

Yet it was all flooding back now you did have this case. Your mind was constantly active with the haunted memories of your past.

Memories that you were too afraid to speak out loud.

"Okay, but if I think for a moment that you aren't capable I will pull you from this case." Hotch said seriously. He was done playing nice.

"That won't be necessary. I am more than capable."

Hotch looked at you for a moment and saw the challenge in your eyes. However, he could also see the emotion deep within them like there was a part of you that was screaming to be let out.

"Morgan and I are going to the women's shelter. You and Emily can interview the families of the victims."

Your heart stopped a little. You're sure that your eyes must have given you away as you lost eye contact with Hotch to try and keep composure.

"I thought I was with Reid?" You asked.

"Not anymore. Families are coming in in half an hour." He said before leaving the room, leaving you in there with the door open.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself.

You wiped under your eyes before any tears could run. Messy mascara wasn't something you wanted to explain today. You let out a shaky breath, trying to not let it sound too loud. The last thing you wanted was to attract unnecessary attention.

You were fine, after all.

<.><.>

"Mr and Mrs Cole. Thank you for being here." Emily started off the interview.

Mrs Cole was crying. Mr Cole was not.

In your eyes that told you everything you needed to know. Unfortunately you couldn't claim you knew anything without sufficient evidence. Evidence that the team was looking for now.

"I can't believe my baby is gone." Mrs Cole cried, sniffling into a tissue that you had provided for her.

"I know this is hard Mrs Cole," You said, empathising with her more than she could know, "But if you could both help us answer some questions it could be really helpful in helping find out who did this to your daughter."

"Okay." She nodded.

"What kind of person was Meredith growing up?" Emily asked, wanting to know what kind of childhood Meredith had.

"She was always so bright. She just wanted to be happy." Mrs Cole answered shakily.

Mr Cole scoffed and looked off to the side.

"Something to add Mr Cole?" Emily prompted.

"What my wife means to say is, Meredith was difficult."

Your mind alerted you then. You knew what was meant for a daughter who was deemed as difficult by her father.

Your fingers clenched to dig your nails into your palm but the second you did Aaron's face came across your view.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

You could still feel the brush of his thumb across your skin. His warms hands against your cold ones. His soft touch the lightest you had ever felt from a man.

Your hand unclenched, resting them on the table instead.

Emily had been carefully watching you, having been asked by Hotch to keep on eye on you. Your near slip-up didn't cause any interruption to the interview and Emily took the lead to continue.

"We understand that Meredith recently left her relationship with Adam. Do you know why?" She asked.

Mrs Cole looked nervously at her husband.

He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "She was always so dramatic. I mean, every couple fights but that doesn’t mean you throw everything away."

You took note of how Mr Cole minimised the abuse that Meredith was clearly receiving.

"Did Meredith ever tell you that Adam hurt her?" You asked.

Mrs Cole sniffled but it was Mr Cole that answered, "She exaggerated things."

"So you’re saying she lied?" You prompted, seeing how twitchy Mr Cole was getting in the metal chair.

"She always wanted attention." He said.

That's what they all say but really the attention was just another way of saying they were looking for somebody to give them a way out. They were desperate for someone to see them and know that they weren't safe - that they needed saving.

Lots of women can't save themselves and the ones that do are never safe again.

"Did she ever come to either of you for help?" Emily asked.

Mrs Cole nodded, "She… Meredith wanted to leave so many times, but she didn’t think she could. She was scared."

"Scared of him?" Emily said encouragingly.

It was only a small gesture but both you and Emily caught the small glance that Mrs Cole gave her husband.

If it wasn't clear to you before then it was ridiculously clear now what had happened.

"Of everything."

"Or scared that no one would believe her?" You muttered to Emily. She nodded in agreement.

Mr Cole must have heard though because he angrily slammed his hands on to the table. It took absolutely everything in your professional career to not flinch. The loud noise caused your heartbeat to skyrocket.

This is not him. This is not before. You kept reminding yourself.

"What exactly are you implying?" He shouted defensively.

"Robert..." Mrs Cole tried to calm him.

"No! What are you saying?"

You and Emily looked at each other and you gave her a nod to signal she could continue this, even though it was you that taunted him.

"Mr Cole. When your daughter was younger, was she ever worried about her current or future. relationships?"

"I raised her to be tough. Not weak." He spat.

You were curled up in a ball on your bed. The room stank of ammonia thanks to your nervous tics and the fact he had walked through the door angrily.

You had run away from an argument downstairs but he had caught up to you.

"You need to learn to be tough, child. I didn't raise you to be this weak."

The room went quiet for a moment. Only the sound of Mrs Cole's sniffles filled the room.

Mr Cole's words sparked the last question you wanted to ask.

"You didn’t believe her, did you?" You asked.

"She made her own choices." Mr Cole said.

You promptly stood up from your chair, "And now she’s dead."

Mrs Cole burst out crying as you spoke, but you charged out of the room before you could console her. She knew anyway. She knew what her husband was doing to her daughter and still she did absolutely nothing, either because she was terrified or she simply didn't care.

But she was just a child.

You were just a child.

<.><.>

The bathroom was as depressing as the rest of the police station.

You had needed a moment to collect yourself.

Interviewing someone who had these whacked beliefs about raising children triggered you in a way you didn't think possible.

The way Mr Cole spoke was chilling and it made you remember all those dark nights when you didn't think you'd ever be loved again. In fact, back then, you don't reckon you knew what love was.

Your grip on the bathroom counter tightened as you tried to ground yourself.

You were so in your own head this whole case and you hadn't caught who was responsible yet. This case was only going to become more triggering as you went along and as you potentially uncovered more bodies.

Right when you felt like you might just let every emotion out Emily opened the bathroom door, you leant back off the counter and tried to look composed.

"Just wanted to let you know that the team's back. Oh and there's someone here who wants to speak to you." She gave you a small smile.

"Okay, thanks." You smiled back and it felt like the fakest thing in the world.

<.><.>

The last thing you expected when you returned to the main area of the police station was to see your father.

Your footsteps halted, like you couldn't physically move any closer towards him.

The rest of the room kept carrying on like normal, but you felt your words completely dry up and your hands begin to shake. You tried to process all the questions you had for him being here all at once.

"Y/N!" He raised his arms out like he was ready for a hug but you stepped back, knocking your hip into the corner of a desk in panic.

The rest of the team watched the situation before them.

They'd never seen you look so lost.

“There you are!” He smiled but you heard the venom behind each word. He was putting on his charm in front of all these people, but really he restraining himself from showing his true colours.

"W-what are you doing here?" You asked.

He scoffed like that was a silly question, “It’s been a long time.”

You can feel the weight of people's eyes on you. Other agents. Cops. The team. Aaron. The last one makes you nervous.

You have an inkling that Aaron knows something and yet you have never managed to tell him. Aaron makes you feel safe like no one ever has, but you still can't find the courage to speak up. You're also worried what he might do should he find out.

This doesn't need to become a thing. You don't want to become one of the teams victims.

So you tried to take control of the situation for once, "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, please leave. We have work to do.”

"I just wanted to check on you.” Your father's jaw clenched as he spoke.

Check on you? After all these years of no contact?

You didn't want him checking up on you. You didn't want him anywhere near you.

After all these years you still feel trapped near him - even when he's not touching you.

Aaron must have been watching closely, because he could tell that you were done with this situation but it was clear your father wasn't. It didn't take a profiler to work out the cause of that tension. Aaron needed the situation handled before anyone could do anything - his own fists were readying to swing should your father take one step out of line.

"She's asked you to leave, Sir." Aaron said stoicly.

You could feel Aaron right next to you, arms crossed over his chest to make himself look more dominant. Your father was only small anyways, but next to Aaron he was nothing.

Your father looked between you and Aaron, chuckling to himself.

"You Y/N's boyfriend then?" Your father asked.

You stiffened next to Aaron, your palms flexing as you tried to remember Aaron's words from earlier.

"Aaron Hotchner." He gave your dad a small nod.

You noticed how Aaron didn't flex his credentials. It was a classic profilers move of undermining the man who thought he was in charge, because then they never really know what to expect.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised.” Your father chuckled. “Never figured Y/N would be the type to get involved with someone like you.”

Aaron's facial expression didn't change. In fact, if anything, he looked a little more pissed off.

Your mind was trying to get you to choose between fight or flight. Normally you would fight, but having your dad so near really triggered your flight response. So you tried to cut the tension and deescalate the situation. before anyone got more hotheaded.

Although seeing Hotch punch your father would feel pretty good.

"Okay. I think we're done here."

Your father shrugged, raising his hands in defence, “Watch your tone. There's no need to get upset. I'll go.” He said, making it seem like you were being the unreasonable one.

Your father's words and the way you immediately shut down after he said them were a dead giveaway to your past.

It was impossible to hide it.

And for the first time in your relationship with Aaron, you felt exposed.

This was part of your story - part of you - that you never wanted him to have to see. Aaron had far too many of his own demons to suddenly take on yours as well.

Your father makes the effort to walk towards the main door, but not before stopping to speak again. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

He was baiting you.

“Still running. Still pretending. Does he even know?” He continued.

His words made you look towards Aaron and it hurt to see him look so angry. Was he upset that you had hid something so personal and traumatic from him? Would this alter your relationship?

You turned to look at the rest of your team too. Emily looked heartbroken. Morgan looked angry. Reid looked so sad. You were making your favourite people feel sad.

Your own eyes welled with tears as you thought about all the people that you were hurting by just being here.

Aaron had clocked on from even before the briefing of this case that something that happened in your childhood. He just didn't think it was as sick and as twisted as this.

Aaron watched your head dip, your fists scrunch in the way he hated to see and your lips continuously mouthing; 'I'm sorry'.

How on God's Earth could you ever think you had something to apologise for?

“That’s enough." Aaron's voice cut through the room, making you look up at him with fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. You knew all too well what that man who called himself your father could do. Rossi had been more of a father in a year than you actual father had in ever.

Your dad turned and smiled. He'd won.

Your darkest secret was out in the open and your father didn't care if he was taken down with it. The heartbroken look on your face would last him a lifetime.

You couldn't breathe.

Even after all these years your father had still had a hold over you and he could still win. He could still make you feel worthless with a simple few words. That's all he needed.

The tears fell over your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Policemen were watching your breakdown and your team looked as heartbroken as you felt.

You felt disgusting, crying over your own self when you were supposedly on a case to save other people like you. This time wasn't meant to be about you and yet somehow it now was.

You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to hold back a verbal sob.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Watching to see you break down into nothing.

You couldn't do this. You never wanted it to be like this. You thought you were stronger than this.

Saying nothing more, you excused yourself politely and ran out of the room towards the back of the station - far, far, away from your father. But far, far, away would never be far enough.

<.><.>

Hotch hadn't moved.

He stood his ground as he watched your father - that piece of scum - chuckle once you'd fled the room.

"Get. Out." Hotch gritted out through his teeth.

Your father nodded.

Morgan moved closer to your father, looking at Hotch briefly to silently tell his boss that he had this handled and that you would need him more than he was needed here right now.

Hotch nodded, but not before getting one good last look at your father's face here. The next time he would see his face was going to be when Hotch put him behind bars.

<.><.>

Aaron found you out the back of the precinct.

You had one hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, the other holding yourself against the cold wall for support.

Your crying was calmer now but the tears still fell.

You turned to face Aaron when he walked out of the door. You tried to stand taller, pulling your shirt down to fit properly.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean for that to happen.” You sniffled, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek.

"Don't apologise."

"N-no. I should’ve handled it better. Shit." Your voice was so shaky that Aaron was surprised you could even speak.

"Sweetheart, no."

You should’ve controlled the situation better.

“This isn’t on you.” Aaron reminder you gently.

“Everyone looked so—Aaron, I just made everything worse.” You said as you remembered how the team looked and how you could taken emotional control of an already vulnerable case. It was unprofessional.

"This isn’t on you.” He repeated. “None of us are upset with you. We're devastated for you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but that felt too hard to accept.

You shook your head as you tried to calm down the tears and hiccups that were reappearing.

"Honey... Listen to me and listen carefully. Nothing that just happened was because of you. Nothing that has happened was because of you." Aaron took a step closer to you.

"But, he..."

"Ssh, ssh. Listen." Aaron said softly, close enough to reach out for your hands now. "Hey, look at me."

When his hands touched you, you became completely grounded. You felt like you were right here instead of back there. Aaron was right in front of you and he wasn't running away. He was right there.

"You're still here." You said through a hiccup of tears.

"Of course I am." He said with a frown.

"I thought you-you'd leave, o-or not want me and..."

"Stop that. No. I don't mean to cut you off but I won't have you convincing yourself that I'm not anything but with you for the long haul, okay?" Aaron was so close now, linking his fingers through yours so that he could help you release all the anger from your fists.

"That first day you came into the BAU I was so low. I was. And I felt like you had been sent to our team not only to fix our capacity issues but also to... to fix me. I felt, for so long, like I had lost a part of me and yet the minute you walked through those doors... Well, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That the part of me returned." Aaron's fingers squeezed yours to continue to ground you, "So if you think for one moment that I'm letting you slip away from me, with that part of me, so easily... Well I'm not even entertaining the idea." He gave you a smirk.

"So we're okay?" You asked for reassurance. Aaron was more than happy to give it to you.

"We're okay." He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a little while to keep you close.

Aaron had noticed you pushing him away all day, so to have this time right now to be close with you was something he wasn't giving up so easily.

You were too busy embracing Aaron's touch to realise he was holding back tears of his own.

<.><.>

Both you and Aarons stood out back for another ten minutes or so, just talking through everything.

You didn't want to go into any details with him right now, but you did admit what your father used to do to you when you were a child and why this case hit far too close to home for you.

Aaron almost berated you for being so careless with your own emotions and mental state, but thought now was not the best time for that conversation. Instead he filled his talk with comforting and reassuring words. He had to make sure that you felt safe again.

He also promised to make your father's life a living hell - in whatever capacity legal...

That sort of terrified you but also made you feel a little lighter.

Morgan opened the door out back soon after, smiling at the way you and Hotch were holding hands and comforting one another.

"Hey. We got a call off the anonymous tip line. Girl called Sheree Rockstead called in to say that she's noticed some guy following her around the past few days. She's also just got out of a violent relationship and she's attending the women's shelter. She's seen the news and is worried."

"It's definitely our guy." Hotch said, not breaking his hand holding with you. "Let's set up an evac. plan. for Sheree and a trap for our unsub."

"You got it." Morgan nodded before leaving again.

Aaron turned back to you warily. You gave him a half smile in return.

"I'm going to stay here." You said.

"Okay." Aaron nodded. He would've benched you anyways if you demanded on going, knowing that field work was not the right thing for you right now.

"Be safe. Please."

"You too."

"Aaron..."

"I know. I'll be safe, I promise. Just want to make sure you are too. I mean if your father comes back when I'm not there I..."

"He won't." You shook your head. "Plus Reid can fight him off."

"Reid?"

"He has magic, after all." You laughed and Aaron had never been so happy to hear something in all his existence. His only hope was that he could continue hearing it with every day he had left.

<.><.>

On the way home on the jet everyone had passed out asleep other than you and Aaron.

There was still too much to talk about.

You had made your own announcement to the team about your past - a more revised version than what you would be telling Aaron - because you thought it was important for them to know.

Morgan threatened to become an undercover spy and "beat his ass" - his words. Hotch threatened to give him a pysch test if he kept throwing those words around, so he shut up - but only when his boss was present.

Garcia tracked down your father's whole life and it turned out he was drowning in debt and your mother had left him. His life was pretty crap and that made you feel really good.

Aaron, though, he had been a crutch for you throughout.

You were so lucky to have him.

But he would say he was luckier to have you.

And that would be the only competition that you and Aaron would ever have.

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ SOFT HANDS

pairing ꩜ adult!lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary ꩜ carpenter lottie... builder lottie... handy lottie, yes please

an ꩜ just a blurb cuz im facing the lethal writers block

thinking about lottie who builds things around the commune… some small jobs to keep her distracted, or big ones to keep her busy. honestly so talented too, she knows what she’s doing. yeah she's a cult leader, but she's also handy.

and for you? lottie will build anything your heart desires. you don’t even ask her directly, you’ll just utter the words “oh another garden would be nice…” or “a little path there will add to the place…”

"it would be like super romantic to have a little greenhouse by the lake." you mentioned once. "yeah?" "It's a dumb idea though, probably not enough room." and then you forgot about it after that.

two weeks later? its there. full of all your favourite plants, perfectly stained wood, and painted in an accent colour of your favourite, "because it reminded me of you," she'll say.

imagining lottie have notebooks full of ideas and plans. you find her half the time scribbling in them. she'll be writing in it with you nearby, probably while you're sleeping or reading. you peak inside them sometimes, a lot of sketches full of notes like,

'soft cushions for her knees while she gardens' 'sunrise hits at 6:17am—good spot for window for her favourite lighting' 'ask someone to teach me how to build a tub outside??' with frantic underlines.

when you ask her about it someone she gets all bashful and admits "I just... like to see you happy."

imagine just seeing her building something new for the commune, wearing her tank tops and linen loose pants. oh gosh, she's perfectly fit from all the work she does, absolutely obsessed. seeing the way her muscles work when she moves, and how she glistens in the sun, all you can do is stare. her hair all tied back, pencil behind her ear, still looking so ethereal.

being lottie's girlfriend whose kinda bad at all that stuff and still wanna help? yes. you help in your own way. bringing her snacks, drinks and of course kisses for motivation. those are her favourite. sometimes it escalates though...

"okay, so i just hold it here right?" you ask, hands attempting to grip a piece of lumber as she measures. "mmm, not quite baby, let me help," she's so patient, shifting behind you. she wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring how to steady the wood. guiding your hands with her larger ones, "good girl, just like that"

yeah... you're not much help after that, everything just got 10x more hot. you'll just stick to moral support.

she's only human and not totally healed, so she gets frustrated sometimes. the mix of the hot sun and a nail not laying correctly? yeah that ticks her off. imagining her breathing a little harder, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. the little murderous sighs she lets out, hehe. you always know how to calm her down though, soft praises and assurance. sometimes through more physical activities...

giving her massages too when she pulls something or is just so sore from all the hard work she does. you live of it, she loves it too much, its a win win. feeling her muscles under the pads of your fingers, working in her commune made remedies. ugh its so intimate. she makes a ritual out of it, having candles and soft scents some nights. your hands are so soft and work in all the right places. maybe getting injured is not as bad as it seems.

and the real reason she does all this? the praise. the recognition she receives, mostly from you. she lives for it, she needs it. when you tell her 'good job' or how much of a 'hard working girl' she is? she's gone. she'll do anything for you and wants you to feel that, because she loves her girl so so much.

[cherriive]

﹒⌗﹒scream ⸝⸝

synopsis :: with people dying every here and there, you never expected that you were the next victim, or that your (almost) murderer was so cute

info :: wlw, f reader, use of yn but it's written in second pov (you), mentions of murderers and threats (like cutting or killing someone) not proofread, if there's anything else please tell me!

Minjeong was the usual nerdy, shy girl that barely anyone knew something about her. Only her group friend that had other three girls talked to her.

Though, she had always caught your attention for some reason.

Being popular and maintaining a persona wasn't the easiest task in the world, especially when you didn't want people to hate you for being the usual mean girl. Which meant you often got remembered as the nice girl who didn't had beef with anyone.

Oh if only they knew how much you hated those people, and that stupid school, and the teachers-

You know what I mean.

But who cares. As long as you kept with the nice girl facade, no one would even bat an eye on how you actually felt.

Everyone was dumb enough to believe in your act anyway. Everyone but Minjeong.

The girl that had something in her that made you wanna know more about her was the only one who wasn't fooled by you and your antics.

Not that you knew that of course. And it didn't help how whenever you tried to say a 'Good morning, Minjeong!' she would just roll her eyes or straight up ignore you. Seriously, what's her problem? And why do you feel the need to get closer to her?

Today, you heard one of your "friends" talk about the new victim. A lot of people have been dying lately, but no one knew why or who was doing this. All they knew, was that they used that ugly mask.

But you didn't wanna think about it. It was way too dark and depressing to talk about those murders, so you opted in pretending you were absolutely clueless about it!

“Have you seen? They made a new victim!”

“Don't say this near yn, she's sensitive..”

“Oh yeah, my bad.”

And that's how your days went, smiling and faking innocence, just wanting to get through high school already.

But Minjeong had other plans.

-

“Hm? Oh, yeah, hahaha. I'll try to not forget about it next time, sorry.”

“You're so careless yn! But it's alright, until next week.”

Finally. You felt so tired.

You were supposed to go out with your friends tonight, but you had no interest in doing so, preferring to just be in the comfort of your home.

But of course they needed a good excuse for you to not go, otherwise they might've showed up in your door forcing you to go with them. Thankfully that's not a problem.

Grabbing the popcorn from the microwave, you opened the window to breath some fresh air, before quickly making your way to the living room.

You sat down on the couch, getting ready to watch a random horror movie. The perfect way to spend a night alone!

Before you could even focus back on the movie playing, someone called you again. Huh? Was your excuse not good enough?

Whatever, just answer it and say you're sick or something.

“Hey, sorry I couldn't go, really-”

“Hello, yn.”

...

What.

Who was this?

How did they know your name?

And what kind of weird voice does this person has?

“Who are you?!” – you tried to not sound too scared while also keeping that mask on. Maybe it was just a prank, it didn't hurt to be safe.

You swear you heard a very quick laugh from the phone, but tried not to think too much about it.

“I just wanna talk to you.”

“Why? Who are you?”

“it's not important. Do you want to play a game with me?”

Okay now that was just weird. You didn't know who this person was, and now they're asking for you to play a game with them.

But something told you, maybe, just maybe it's one of your friends, pranking you. Who knows?

So, you decided to go with the worst option you had.

“What game?”

You tried to do your best sweet voice so maybe the person on the other side of the line would have some kind of mercy on your person.

“A game of questions. I'll just ask you a few things and you answer me honestly, hm? How about that?”

You should just hang up. This is stupid. Probably one of those weirdos from school that hate you for no reason trying to spook you.

... But for some reason you didn't.

“Okay.” – another laugh came from the phone, making you slightly shiver.

“Good choice.”

You anxiously waited on the couch, looking around the living room to find some comfort in the familiarity of your own home.

“Do you like horror movies?”

What an odd question.

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Hmm.. What's your favorite horror movie, then?”

“I don't know, I guess slashers? Any kind of slasher as long as it's alright enough it's good for me.”

There was silence for a moment, as if the person on the phone with you was thinking about your answer.

A satisfied hum came from them, and soon spoke up.

“Do you like people dying?”

What. How did we go from movies to this.

“Wh.. What? Of course not. What kind of question is that?”

“Answer the question yn.”

This was the breaking point for you. This was starting to get out of hand, and you were not going to talk with this weird person anymore.

Without thinking twice you hang up, trying to understand what the fuck had just happened.

But before you could get back to your senses and pay attention to the long forgotten movie again, your phone started to ring.

Your hands were trembling, but you hesitantly picked up the call.

“You know it's very rude to hang up in the middle of a conversation?”

There it was, that stupid voice that was making you more nervous than you wanted.

“What do you want?!”

You tried your best to avoid showing how nervous you felt right now, but everything was thrown out of the window when you heard those damn words.

“I want you to just stay right where you are in your living room. Is that 'Stab'?"

What. The. Fuck.

How did they know that? Wait, were they watching you? Oh no. Oh no no no. This wasn't happening.

You quickly closed the curtains in the room, making sure to lock the front door while still holding your phone, and that's when you heard them laughing.

Not chuckling, not giggling, full on laughing.

“You think that's going to help you? You should stop worrying about being friendly to everyone and start worrying about your windows.”

Oh fuck. The kitchen.

Without giving a damn about staying the in living room, you ran to the kitchen and – oh there it was. The open window.

But there was nothing wrong with your kitchen. At least you couldn't see anything.

You slowly went back to the living room, phone in your hand, looking around nervously. You didn't know what to think or to expect right now.

What wasn't on your list was to hear the same voice from your phone right behind you, in your ear.

“You gotta learn to be more careful, ynnie.”

Your surcival instincts kicked in, and you almost turned around. Almost. If it wasn't for the feeling of a knife right against the back of your neck.

“Ah, ah, ah. Don't move..”

There wasn't a single word that could describe the mix of emotions currently inside you.

But the main would definitely be fear.

Is this where your life ends? You never did anything wrong to deserve this! Maybe you did lie every here and there, but come on, who's really 100% honest?

Suddenly you got snapped out of your thoughts by the person – that you could now see the ghostface costume they're wearing – pushing you against a wall, turning you around to face them.

“I like this expression on you better than that fucking stupid persona you have.”

If it was under any other circumstances, you'd have defended yourself. But the knife was still there.

“Everyone else might be dumb enough to believe in those lies you tell everyone, but I'm not. And I don't like liars.”

As they spoke, they slowly got closer. And closer. Until your nose was almost touching the mask on their face.

It was terrifying. But oddly thrilling.

Before you could say something, the masked person suddenly took off the scary mask and –

Wait, what.

“Minjeong?!”

“Oh, you know my name?”

The voice that once sounded so weird from how many effects it had, now was just a normal feminine voice. She tried to hold back a smirk, but seeing the shocked expression you were doing was just too good.

“What-.. Why are you..”

She just held the knife closer to your neck, making you instantly shut up and swallow down any words you had in your tongue.

“Shut up. You're so infuriating. Always having that dumb face on while pretending all the time. It's so annoying.”

Minjeong looked at you, her eyes travelling through your whole figure with annoyance, mixed with something you couldn't exactly put a finger at yet.

“And still.. You still managed to catch my attention. I wish I could just rip this pretty face of yours..”

You almost flinched when she said that. Who wouldn't? Especially with how the knife was almost cutting your neck. And then Minjeong retracted the knife back with a sigh.

“But I can't bring myself to.”

There were zero and a million thoughts in your head at the same time. Minjeong is absolutely crazy, that's for sure. But the angry face she had was so, so cute.

And that thought alone was enough to make you even crazier than her.

“.. You want to kill me because you have a crush on me?”

“Shut up, that's not what I said.”

You really wanted to believe that when Minjeong put that knife on your neck again she wanted to kill you. You really did.

Yet it was so hard to when her cheeks were clearly red despite the lack of light in the room – except for the tv that was still on.

“Why don't you shut me up?”

“I'm going to cut your voice chords off.”

That was so stupid that you only managed to laugh softly, looking at her differently from how you always had. Now you knew why she caught your attention too.

Minjeong took a few deep breaths, calming herself down and then looked at you with a more neutral, yet soft expression on her face.

She got closer to your face, her warm breath against your cheeks giving you a feeling you never thought you'd feel because of her.

“If you tell anyone about me I promise to kill you and everyone in that school.”

“Will I get more late night visits if I keep my mouth shut?”

“Fuck you.”

She almost spat when saying this, but from how quickly Minjeong turned around to hide her face you guessed she was blushing again.

And she definitely was.

Minjeong took a step back and finally took the knife away – which was still scarying you a bit – and gave you a.. A flower? When did she got that? Was it under her costume?

“Here. For you.”

“... You know there are more conventional ways to give someone a flower without threatening to kill them, right?”

She rolled her eyes, holding back the urge to tell you to fuck yourself again. Especially since you were treating this like something completely normal after seeing it was her. Was she not scary enough?

“I'm going.” – you heard Minjeong say, turning around and walking away. But before she stepped away you put a hand on her shoulder, grabbing her attention.

“Wait! Are you going to come back?”

“... Maybe.”

It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no. And that was enough. You just wanted to see Minjeong again without her being the quiet kid from your school, and without pretending.

“Alright. Thank you for the flower Minjeong.”

“Just call me Winter.”

“Huh? Why?”

“It's what my close friends call me.”

You smiled, nodding your head. It was cute she gave you a nickname only her friends knew about.

And with that last interaction, she put on her mask again. You only looked away for two seconds after a loud sound from the tv, and when you looked for Minjeong again, she had disappeared.

Wow. What a night. A good, night.

a/n :: so erm I didn't do my school work but I finished this, so yay?? i hope it's good enough😭

[ennn]

Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts

Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?

Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."

The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.

"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.

Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."

That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.

Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.

I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.

Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.

The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).

Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.

Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.

Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.

Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.

Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.

Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.

Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.

Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.

[orellazalonia]

Stray Magic

Summary: After your last incident of being cursed into a cat, you now stumble, quite literally, across the ability to shift into a feline form whenever you want. A lot of benefits and amusing situations have resulted from your newfound ability. (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: A continuation of the original sorta with more cat shenanigans. Might turn it into a series. Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist | Shapeshifting Shenanigans Masterlist

You swore you'd never touch another cursed artifact. You swore. But then Wanda said she needed help organizing the weird magical storeroom under the compound, and someone (you) tripped over an ancient feline statue with glowing gemstone eyes and an inscription that translated roughly to: "Blessing of the Dual Form."

Sure, it sounded cool.

Until ten minutes later, when your body shrank, your vision sharpened, and your very human yelp turned into a confused meow.

Bucky found you pawing at your clothes in a confused heap on the floor of the kitchen. Again.

“No. Nope. I am not doing another week of this,” He groaned.

You squeaked indignantly and padded over, tapping his boot with one paw.

“What, is this your thing now?” He asked, looking down. “You just… turn into a cat whenever you're bored?”

You nodded dramatically, then sneezed. Cat noses were weird.

It took three hours, a call to Wong, and a consultation with Strange to figure out the truth: the statue had permanently bonded to your soul. You now had the ability to shift into a cat whenever you wanted. No time limit. No cooldown that they were aware of. Just poof. Cat.

Bucky looked like he was going to short-circuit. “So what, you’re like a superhero shapeshifter now? Are you gonna be on missions like this? What’s the strategy? Distract the enemy with your toe beans?”

You gave him a deadpan stare before jumping onto the table and promptly curling up on a warm pizza box like it was your throne.

“You are going to abuse this, aren’t you?” He muttered.

You chirped.

The next following days, you started turning into a cat for the dumbest reasons:

Didn’t want to have a conversation? Cat. Someone asked you to do dishes? Cat. Avoiding a training session? Instant cat. Wanted to nap in a sunny spot on the windowsill with zero responsibilities? Meow.

The first time Bucky caught you turning mid-sentence just to avoid answering a question, he stared in disbelief as a smug little feline face stared up at him.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to cat your way out of everything.”

You blinked slowly, purring just to mess with him.

Later, he found you curled up in his bed, in his hoodie, making biscuits like you owned the place.

“I don’t know if I should be concerned or impressed,” He mumbled, watching you knead the pillow with your tiny murder mittens.

Eventually, you started using your powers for good. Sort of.

You helped sneak into tight spaces on stealth missions. You distracted bad guys by running across their feet in a blur of fluff and chaos. You even learned how to meow loudly enough to trip motion sensors on command. It was kind of amazing.

But you also definitely turned into a cat during a briefing just to curl in Bucky’s lap and nap through the whole thing. He pretended to be annoyed, but everyone saw how he started bringing an extra hoodie just to drape over you like a blanket.

“You’re lucky I like cats,” He mumbled, scratching behind your ears during a debrief.

You stretched, tail flicking, then headbutted his hand with practiced affection.

"You're even worse than when you were human," He added.

You meowed innocently.

He rolled his eyes but didn't stop petting you.

When you weren’t going on missions or avoiding unwanted situations, you got bored. Extremely. So, you got into some mischief.

You weren’t trying to prank anyone.

Okay. That was a lie. You were absolutely trying to prank everyone. Your new cat powers were just too convenient to resist.

Your first target was Sam.

He left his lunch unattended for five seconds. Rookie move. You slipped into cat form, trotted over, and started dragging a chicken tender off the plate with all the confidence of a thief in the night.

Sam walked in right as you jumped down from the counter with your prize.

“Hey- HEY! Get back here, you tiny demon!”

You zoomed out of the kitchen with the tender in your mouth, tail high like a flag of victory. Sam chased you halfway across the compound before Bucky stopped him.

“Let it go,” Bucky said without looking up from his book. “She does this now.”

Sam glared. “You enable this.”

Bucky shrugged. “She has powers. We adapt.”

Your second target was Tony. He had been boasting that no living creature could break into his lab.

You took that as challenge.

You slipped in through the vents, turned into a cat mid-air, and landed with the silent grace of a furry ninja. Ten minutes later, Tony walked in to find a cat wearing one of his Arc Reactor cores like a glittery collar and a sticky note on his desk that read:

"Your security sucks. - Cat burglar :3”

Tony stared. Then he rolled his eyes and started slow-clapping before promptly kicking you out, muttering something along the lines of “I hate that I’m impressed.”

Your third target was Steve. Honestly, there wasn’t much you had to do for him.

You waited until he was giving a serious, very Captain America-style speech to a group of new recruits in the training room.

You padded in, tail swaying, and flopped dramatically onto the mat in front of him.

Steve tried to continue, but you rolled onto your back and made a dramatic mrrrow.

One of the recruits burst out laughing. Steve paused, looked down, and sighed.

“You done?”

You yawned, stood up, and trotted off like nothing happened. Steve looked over at Bucky, who was leaning against the wall, clearly fighting a grin.

“This is your fault,” Steve said.

Bucky just raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who gave her magic powers.”

-

A week later, you were with the team on a stealth recon mission infiltrating a hidden Hydra base. Everything was going smoothly until it wasn’t. The ventilation system collapsed during your approach, sealing the entrance tunnel. Tony and Sam were on the other side, and the only path forward was a narrow vent shaft no human could fit through.

Everyone looked at you. You looked at the vent.

Then you sighed and shifted into your cat form.

You squeezed through like butter, tail flicking as you navigated a maze of cold metal and darkness. You dropped into a server room, located the control panel, and with some very creative paw-smashing, unlocked the emergency override.

Back outside, the sealed doors hissed open. Bucky walked in just as you leapt from the vent and landed in his arms like a smug little hero.

The others stared.

“She just… did that,” Sam said. “She cat-ninja’d the mission.”

You chirped proudly in Bucky’s arms.

Steve looked mildly bewildered, but nodded. “Good work, team. And… cat.”

Bucky scratched behind your ears.

“You know,” He murmured, “if you weren’t so annoying, I’d actually be impressed.”

You headbutted his chin and purred like a lawnmower.

“Yeah, yeah. You win.”

-

While your powers were good for pranking others and missions, you were not supposed to turn into a cat in public.

That was rule number one. The most important rule. The rule you insisted you could totally follow when Bucky warned you, “One slip, and someone’s gonna try to adopt you.”

But the city was loud, it was hot, someone stepped on your foot, and the moment of panic hit, poof: cat mode. You’d slinked under a bench to hide and tried to shift back… only to realize something was off. Maybe it was stress, maybe magic hated you, but either way you were stuck.

And then a kind old woman spotted you.

“Oh, you poor thing!” She gasped, scooping you up before you could bolt. “Where’s your owner?”

You tried to meow in protest, but she tucked you into her tote bag like a smuggled muffin and carried you away.

Bucky, meanwhile, had only stepped into the café for two minutes. He came back out with your coffee and you were gone.

He stared at the empty spot on the bench. Then at the faint pile of your discarded hoodie behind it. Then at the tiny tuft of fur stuck to the sleeve.

“Oh, come on.”

Thirty minutes later, you sat in a glass enclosure at a pet store. A pet store. On display.

Your ears twitched as a child tapped on the glass. The name on the little card outside your enclosure?

"Peanut. Age: 2. Found near 5th and Main. Very fluffy. A little grumpy."

Grumpy?! You were raging. You’d tried to escape twice, but the staff were unnervingly good at cat-wrangling.

A bell jingled near the entrance. You sat up immediately. Then, like a vision, there he was.

Bucky Barnes. Leather jacket, metal arm, and classic murder expression on his face. He scanned the store, locked eyes with you, and mouthed, What the hell?

You pawed at the glass frantically. Rescue was at hand.

He took a quick breath as if to mentally prepare himself for the absurdity of the situation before stalking up to the counter. “I need to… buy that cat.”

The cashier blinked. “Oh, Peanut? She’s very popular today. Already has two applications in-“

Bucky slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “Now she has one.”

They stared. “Sir, we don’t really-“

Another fifty. “I’m adopting her. Today.”

The cashier finally relented. “Do you… want a carrier or..-“

“No.”

Five minutes later, you were tucked under Bucky’s arm like a furry football as he power-walked down the block, muttering.

“You promised me you’d stop turning into a cat in public. And what happens? You disappear for half an hour and suddenly I’m buying you back from a place with chew toys and squeaky mice.”

You meowed apologetically.

He stopped and looked down at you. A grin appeared on his expression accompanying a smug tone. “You were so close to getting adopted by a five-year-old. You’d have had a glitter collar and a stroller.”

You shuddered at the mental image.

When you finally shifted back behind an alley dumpster (and yes, it was a little gross), you stood there sheepishly, putting on the oversized hoodie and extra clothes he brought.

When you finished, he turned back and handed you the iced coffee he’d carried the whole way.

“You,” He said, “are never living this down.”

“…Thanks for buying me back.”

He smirked. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave you in the window. You looked adorable in that little hammock.”

You groaned.

He added, “Peanut.”

You chased him down the sidewalk swearing vengeance.

[hyewka]

warnings. switch!beomgyu, idol!au, brief mention of choking

cant stop thinking about trainee!reader and idol!beomgyu, where gyu first introduces a fuck buddy relationship after sleeping with you one time, not aware that alone would be the sole reason his obsession and attachment manifests. just imagine dom gyu whos used to fucking with no strings attached due to the nature of his occupation and who thinks itll be the same with you until he feels bored enough to leave your messages on delivered. but idol!beomgyu who one day lets out his frustrations, too roughly and mean that when hes done and sees the hurt, the less than normal distance, gets some clarity to immediately melt into apologies, inspecting every inch of your body to be sure you’re okay.

beomgyu who for once, lets someone sleep in with him after sex all because of what he assumed was really bad guilty conscience. awkward as he attempts to scoot for some room, letting you cover your body under his blanket, just completely rigid as he stares at the ceiling with his hands to his sides like some soldier.

then…he does it again, he lets you sleep in, this time its because he’s tired and he can feel your exhaustion radiating off you. he’ll feel bad letting you walk all the way to your flat. but due to how frequent you get together, his arms feel more comfortable wrapping around your figure as you drift to sleep.

when he lets it happen the third time, it’s a problem.

you didn’t fuck, not even a quickie or a makeout session, just him, for whatever reason, asking you to cuddle. cuddle. “i’m stressed, with the comeback and all.” he mumbles lamely, biting down slightly on his lip, trying to convince himself as well.

“when you’re stressed… we fuck.” you say slowly, and skeptically.

just when hes about to backtrack and take it back you jump in his bed anyway, “whatever i’m not gonna refuse a good mattress.”

and then when you sleep with your face turned towards him, he feels like hes been sucked in, looking at every detail as if hes trying to have a picture in his head forever.

beomgyu who gets attached way too fast and way too quick that after the fourth time you‘ve fucked around and sees you flirting it up with soobin he absolutely loses it.

“i just got him a gift to congragulate him for landing the mc gig..why’re you acting like i murdered your entire bloodline?”

because thats what it feels like.

he inexplicably presses harder on your throat, shutting you up more by pressing his lips on yours, kissing and kissing till your lips were swollen, his brows furrowed deeply as you pathetically attempt to roll your hips into his. fucking you against the wall in a random artists’ green room, five minutes before a pre recording…hes fucking lost his mind.

god, he’s addicted.

imagine when your dynamic slowly flips, none of you are aware until you realize how often he follows you around like a puppy fan—you don’t think he was ever this clingy. beomgyu being the one who tries to meet up any chance available even paying you a visit secretly in the practice room at midnight, sneaking in snacks.

then its the sex— he’s more vocal, more sensitive when you touch him, moaning so loud you would have to clasp a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. his eyes glaze over at times when you praise him and holy shit what the fuck was up with choi beomgyu.

the beomgyu you met that one day, fucked at a random hotel, and quite literally introduced hard kinks almost immedietely nows in front of you, crumbling down to his knees with his glossy eyes peering up at you like you were a god, begging you to use his face to get off. ruin his makeup. ruin him, please.

[midnightshindig]

Ahhhhhhhh why are you so good at embodying the characters when you write??! (Teach me👀)

This has been on my mind for awhile, but Mark x platonic ride or die bestie headcanons. I just feel bad for him yknow? Home boy/girl/babe is ready to rock the next enemy’s ****shit**** if they make things a smidge stressful for him or his loved ones. But is also simultaneously very considerate/sweet in their own dumpster-fire way. No matter what dimension, what decision, what future, they’re there because they care. Oh imagine them being like an older sibling figure to Oliver or later on Uncle/Aunt figure for Tara!

Thank you for your time - hope you’re doing well 🫡✨

Mark & Bestie!Reader

Okay so here's where I tell you all my shameful secret:

I had one of those etsy accounts where you pay to get a letter from a fictional character in middle school...

I made like over a thousand dollars with it before deactivating it for school reasons. and that's how I'm so well versed in getting into character. Is I used to get paid to do it.

My one tip is to-- obviously-- understand the character. But not from their perspective, from YOUR perspective. You have to get it and find a way to be them that is still you or else it's too unnatural and you feel cringe

ALSO IDK WHAT THE FUCK A TARA IS BUT I WILL SMITE YOU. Please no comic spoilers <3 (/nm)

anyways hcs under the cut!

Mark was a pretty feeble dude in high school pre-powers

and William-- as a scrawny gay kid-- can only protect him from so much

Which is why when you-- tall ass feisty ass chomping-at-the-bit Y/n-- came into his life, you clicked instantly

It was a classic case of Muscle and brain

except you were both Mark's protector AND his geography tutor

sooo.... idk what Mark really brings to the table

I'm kidding I'm kidding!

you and Mark are absolute homies and you're so happy to have met him

....

especially when he GETS SUPERPOWERS???

All those years of you beating down cruel jocks and trash talking snobby snoots have finally paid off

because now this 18-year-old dweeb owes you like basically a lifetime of free flights to wherever

ohhhh and you abuse this power SO much it's not even funny

"Mark, I feel like Pizza-"

"Oh no..."

"In Italy!"

"This is the fourth time this month!"

"Chop chop, super boy."

Not to say you're using him, though

you're still the same gung ho supportive riot you've always been

When Cecil is getting in Mark's space and business, you're the first person up from your chair to bark at him to

"SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Like "Mark dude I really don't like you taking orders from some politician snob. He's bad news."

and he'd come to an "I told you so moment" with you in a few years.

But you never hold it against him.

Mostly.

You're also one of the only people who Mark listens to when he's wrong

"I'm not leaving Eve!"

and you fucking kick in the door like

"Mark- your eight year old brother is out there ALONE and DEFENSLESS against MURDEROUS YOUS. Debbie is who knows where and if you don't take the fight to them, they're going to bring the fight to you with my head on a stick." You jostle him and shove him by the shoulders

Mark, frazzled and annoyed "no! I'm not leaving her-"

"Shut the FUCK UP." You stop, holding him sternly "Eve is going to HATE YOU for this. Get the fuck out there and let me handle things here." your face softens "I'll make sure these pigs don't touch her."

Powerless though you are, this brings him enough comfort to agree to go back to fighting

Eve can't thank you enough for this when she wakes up weeks later

Mark has a lot of power imbalance issues

it's good that he has someone so staunchly opposed to him who loves him so much

but you're not here to corral Mark into what YOU want him to do

for example

"Y/n, I don't know what to do, Cecil won't stop using D.A Sinclair and Darkwing- but they're murderers! How can he expect me to just work with them?!"

You took a long sip of your sweet tea, perched comfortably on your gaming chair

"I mean, I don't know, Mark. They seem under a tight leash, and doesn't everyone deserve a chance to make up for what they did?"

"Ugh- not murderers. Not guys like that." Mark is conflicted, folding his arms

You spin in your chair casually "I think you're dead wrong, but if you want to storm the capital and fuck up Sinclair yourself, I'll back you."

Mark nods in appreciation, his soles hitting the ground when he didn't even realize he was floating

"Thanks, Y/n.... I appreciate that."

"You know it, man. I'll overthrow a government for you any day. Your powers, my smarts-"

"Yyyyyou have a C in physics-"

"Ah ah aH! HONORS Physics. For second years. In college. and I'm what?" Mark opened his mouth to answer before you cut him off "I'm a first year! So blah blah blah YOUR superpowers and MY smarts." You took another drink of sweet tea "We got this."

You're the only person Mark really trusts to babysit Oliver

Since you're the only person Oliver is too scared to disobey

like not that you beat the kid or anything

you're just intimidating

He sees how you boss around his older brother- his whole WORLD- and he's like... damn gotta get in my pjs and brush my teeth before 8 ig

But you're pretty lax with him

"Hey Oliver, wanna go to the skatepark tonight?"

He's like bouncing on his toes all excited "yeah!!"

"Okayyyy but you gotta eat your peas and fly me there"

so he eats his peas and you get the hilarious visual of an eight year old holding your hands as you dangle helplessly in the air

he's literally too little to hold you any other way lmao

Mark never knowssss

Oliver is in bed by the time anyone gets home

and you're on the couch flipping through and prank calling every telepalm reader in their yellow pages

"Oh hey, you're home!" with a big, mischievous ass grin

and then Mark joins you on the couch and prank calls hella telepalm readers with you

You help him not lose his teenage boy-ness

and he needs that

so

so desperately

[the-thing-withfeathers]

home away from home

requested

a/n: my first emily fic y’alllll 😫😫😫 i love her so bad i just had to write for her she is sooo foine. tysm anon for giving me the chance 🤸

pairing: unit chief!emily prentiss x f!reader

warnings: mention of gore, murder, blood, sensitive imagery & topics. smut!!, cursing, getting caught

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

“wheels up in 30.”

as much as you loved your job, you hated being away for extended periods of time. you hated airplanes and you hated the long travel, it stressed you out. your home— your house, specifically, was your safe place. you hated leaving it for too long.

your family was also back home. with the job came a lot of paranoia that something would happen to your family. you’d seen it happen with your co-workers, you were sure you weren’t an exception.

you grabbed your go-bag from under your desk, sighing and slinging it over your shoulder. you didn’t look pleased at all.

you were about to walk towards the doors when you were stopped by emily. you had been seeing the woman for a while now, you didn’t have an established relationship as you both were incredibly busy and valued separating personal life and work life. but you would be lying if you said you didn’t care for her.

“hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowed as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“nothing, i just hate being away from home so much.” you rubbed your forehead with your pointer finger and thumb.

“i know… but we all go on break soon. it’s just a little bit more.” she frowned. “i’m sorry, i know you get worried about your family.”

“it’s okay, it comes with the job. it’s what i signed myself up for.”

she pulled you closer, you almost folded into her warmth but you realised you had others around you.

“it doesn’t make it any better.”

“you’re right… it doesn’t.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you sat next to emily on the plane. you usually kept yourselves distant as you usually sat with spencer and derek, goofing about like you all usually did.

today was different, you needed to be around her. she gave you a comfort that nobody else was capable of. you tried not to let your feelings take you so harshly but in this case, it was all feelings.

spencer eventually set up a game of chess, gesturing to you across the plane. you nodded and stood up, needing to take your mind off things. emily watched you as you made your way to spencer.

you were no match for him during the game. you were only really at your learning stage, but he was impressed with you nonetheless. you always did your best with the resources provided, and that was what he valued the most.

“you’re not a good opponent. we’re at completely different skill sets.” you rolled your eyes in defeat.

“well if you never play against someone with a higher knowledge of these things, you’ll never improve.” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“i suppose you make a fair point.” you huffed.

you got the announcement to prepare for landing and made your way back over to emily. she was on her phone, looking through the digitized version of the case file.

you sat down next to her and buckled up your seatbelt. you looked around the room, when you saw that everyone was focused on something else, you reached for emily’s hand. she intertwined your fingers and you squeezed her hand as the plane landed.

you hated planes.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the team made their way to the precinct, you were assigned with dave and derek to investigate the crime scene.

you felt yourself hesitate, holding back like you would be sick to your stomach upon seeing the crime scene.

“an entire family dead. they were all facing each other, tied up to chairs.” penelope said, flicking through the picture. you felt your head spin, cases that involved families made you feel the ultimate amount of discomfort.

you shook the thoughts in your head away, walking into the household behind dave. the bodies were moved but the chairs were still there. you walked around the scene, seeing the symbols and words written in the family’s blood.

you felt absolutely sick, like you might throw up. you let dave & derek take the lead on examining the scene, only chiming in every now and then.

you stayed to the side as they took pictures. david walked over to you.

“what’s on your mind, kid?” he asked you. you always allowed yourself to be honest with david.

“it’s just horrible… two of them were so young.” you whispered. “it’s disgusting that someone could just do this to them.”

“it is… is it hitting close to home?” he was too good at reading you.

“a little bit. i just worry about my family.” you shrugged.

“that’s fair enough. you’ve been working a lot of hours too, i’m sure you miss them.” david nodded. “you’ll have to see them when you’re back.”

“that’s the plan.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you all met back at the hotel for the night. you gathered in dave’s room to share information before retreating to your rooms.

you and emily were paired together. this was a normal occurrence nowadays, you knew emily was riggging the rooms so you two would be together. the thought made you smile— the first one you’ve cracked all day.

she slid the card into the door that allowed you to enter your bedroom.

the entire team had rooms with two beds, including the two of you, but you usually ended up sharing the bed anyways.

you chucked your bag onto one of the beds, plopping down onto the other one. you groaned softly and didn’t even take your clothes off and just tucked right in.

“you tired?” emily asked, tilting her head and joining you on the bed.

“not really, just mentally drained.” you clarified, opening the blanket to let her in.

“i’m sorry. anything i can do to help?” she asked, slipping in beside you and immediately wrapping her arms around your waist. her hand slipped underneath your shirt, drawing lazy circles on your back.

“you could… keep doing that.” you said, another smile forming on your lips.

“oh really?” she chuckled. “does someone need some extra affection after today?”

“mmhm.” you nodded, placing your head on her chest but looking up at her. you gave her your famous puppy dog eyes. “i’ll take anything you give me.”

the woman rolled her eyes at you, “okay, now you’re just pushing it.”

“maybe i wanna push it.”

“hmm… you’re testing me now.” she turned to look down at you.

you stared at her for a second. you had a mischievous grin on your face and connected your lips for a kiss. you lifted yourself up a bit and moved so that your body rested on top of hers. you had your hands on her cheeks while hers were on the back of your thighs.

you sat up, your legs at her sides. you started unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it off your shoulders. emily sat up to unclasp your bra, kissing your chest. you ran your hand through her gray hair, you loved the color.

you let out a few fluttering sighs while she left open-mouthed kisses on you, she was definitely going to leave a few marks.

“em…” you shifted a bit, starting to feel yourself drench the fabric of your panties.

“mmhm?” she asked, muffled.

“i need you.” you sighed out.

she flipped you both over, causing you to yelp softly as your back hit the bed. in one swift motion, she was on top of you.

you placed your hands on her shoulders, wriggling under her and pulling her in for another kiss.

she pushed her own blazer off. you loved how she looked in her business attire. you could dress as casually as you wanted— with exceptions of formal meetings, but with emily being the unit chief, she was always in something that screamed authority. you found it incredibly attractive.

her hand slipped under the waistband of your pants. she found your wet core and smiled at you, you knew she was about to make fun of you.

“i haven’t even done anything.” she mocked you, grinning.

“shut it, will you?”

“you talk to your chief like that?”

“no, i talk to emily like that.” you huffed, rolling your eyes at her.

“well— i’m not so sure emily likes that either.” she made a tsking noise with her tongue clicking. she applied some pressure against your cunt with her fingers. you hissed at the sudden contact. you started throbbing against her, and she felt it.

“well maybe if emily fucked me, she wouldn’t have to deal with the back talk.” you said, pulling away and crossing your arms.

“as you wish then.” she said, pushing your panties aside and slipping a finger into you. you gasped, your hands going straight to the back of her neck.

you let out soft moans as her finger moved in and out of you. none of your clothes were even off but you just needed her too much. her hand moved against the fabric of your pants, being pushed back into you by the resistance. you started to build up a sweat as you both were still clothed and under the blanket.

“keep going, em.” you whimpered out, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“oh fuck, yeah… yeah, keep going!” you cried out.

click.

“hey guys, i have the key to your room—“ spencer said, walking into your room without warning.

“oh fuck!” you said softly, pushing emily off you and trying to pull the blanket over your bottom half. you grabbed your phone and tried to play it off like you were showing emily a video on your phone.

she fell into position, looking over at spencer with a glare.

“you could have knocked?!” emily said, a mild rage in her voice.

“well i didn’t have anything to worry about. it’s not like you two are hooking up.” oblivious boy.

“we could be!” you protested, teasing emily at that point.

“you? and emily? sure…” he said, rolling his eyes and tossing the key card on the table.

“which one didn’t you guys use?” he asked, pointing between the two others.

“the one on the left.” you said. he picked it up and made his way out.

you both let out a breath that you didn’t realise you were holding.

“christ…” you mumbled, pushing the blanket off and forcing your pants off.

“now where were we?”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: part of me lowkey wants to make a part two where they get discovered or sumnnnn

[ssaalexblake]

I feel sorry for Dae-Ho because this guy Clearly had serious issues with men touching him in S2, friendly embraces from men bothered him viscerally. He dodges away from Jung-Bae's very jovial physicality Twice in the season. Once could be a blip. In a TV show, twice is never an accident, it's a pattern. He also expertly changes the subject one of those times, too. It's how we end up learning everybody's names.

He's clearly trying to take care of Jun-Hee in a brotherly fashion and is frequently found in the bg making sure she's okay, he's considerate of her and caring of her pregnancy. He's good at girly games, apparently. He's asked why he was a marine after he says he can do the girl game and had all those sisters and makes a comment about a father wanting to Toughen Him Up and very quickly moves from That subject too.

(I imagine that pentathlon is the first time anybody's ever validated him for what he Can actually do well, from the looks of it)

Such a nasty picture is painted only with those bare facts. He's a friendly guy, wants to do the good thing, has skills labelled 'feminine' and you Know exactly what crap this guy got growing up for being like those four sisters of his.

Him flinching from Jung-Bae Really says so many unpleasant things.

So he Genuinely tries to step up and take part in the revolution and he's very obviously having some kind of mental breakdown the entire time (so obviously that it's actually kind of clunky imo that apparently Nobody notices it) and is hyperventilating hiding behind cover and not even looking where he fires the gun. He goes back for the ammo and can barely talk and looks like a shell of a person, and tries to go back and just hits a solid wall. Absolute limit. Can't do it.

In S3 we learn that his military service was deferred into some kind of social service, as he was judged unfit/unable to serve. I didn't need to look it up to work out that that'd come with a hell of a social stigma, but people have confirmed such in fandom anyway.

Whoever decided he wasn't mentally fit to be in a gun fight was right, actually. Quite clearly, he couldn't handle that.

His story is just another example of a discussion of stupid social stigma leading to ruin. Of men who aren't capable of whatever being in the military being called Less than because what, they're not able to fire a gun? Not willing to shoot someone? Can't deal with the way the military structures you not as a human, but as a chess piece on a board.

The tragedy is, of course, that Dae-Ho was not lesser or pathetic for not having the temperament for military service. The tragedy is it got so bad for him, and he was looked down on so much by that father of his (and most everybody else apparently), that he decided to start to fake being a marine to escape the stigma of it all.

That instead of living a life where he can accept his own limitations and acknowledge his Actual skills, he ends up in a brutal gun fight to Prove that he can do it when he Can't and that this has spiralling consequences when the rest of them can't get more ammo, and is a factor in the revolution failing.

If Dae-Ho had a a healthy respect for his Actual skills, and not just total disdain for what he Can't do, he'd not have volunteered to take part in that revolution because he'd know he can't do it.

I mean, I kind of get why they had the characters ignore his obvious mental health issue because it voices the outlooks that created the problem to start with directly in the show, but i've been very surprised to see people calling him OOC in S3 when to me, we finally got the missing puzzle piece that made him make total sense.

In the end, him and Gi-Hun who both blame themselves for what's happened use each other as scapegoats and aim their anger and derision and self disgust at each other instead, and it's brutal and ugly and ends in a murder.

And the utter irony for me is that the moment Dae-Ho attacks Gi-Hun and surrenders to that ugliness is the moment the people who've looked down on him as less than a man would have thought he was finally bucking up.

At his absolute Worst moment in the whole show.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

can we hear more about ace's shithead sister whats her problem

goddd straight up everything is wrong with her

her name is Saliko and she's somewhere in the neighborhood of 60ish years older than Ace, which means yes she was absolutely a grown-ass woman in her sixties beefing with a literal toddler when Ace was first brought to live with their father in his stupid blood magic murder cult.

and as noted she's mostly beefing with her because Ace was born because their father, who's supposed to be busy running his very serious secret magical blood murder cult, fell mortifyingly in love with a cruise ship fitness instructor and had a child with her, that child being Ace, when he's only really meant to have children every half century or so with women who are carefully selected for optional contributions to the bloodline. and you're saying "hey, that sounds yikesy" well it is. I'm sorry to report the blood magic murder cult is a little problematic.

except sweet baby Ace kind of actually accidentally disproved the whole "superior bloodline" thing because she's, like, insanely powerful; she has a lot of really potent magical potential. she could, hypothetically, make someone's heart just stop beating if she focused hard enough, which isn't supposed to be easy to do. most of her dad's acolytes spend their entire lives in training and never accomplish more than being able to numb their own pain receptors and heal themselves enough to a.) be pretty daunting assassins and b.) live a good deal longer than the average dude. and those are only the really talented ones! most of them never get that far, and meanwhile Ace can like. you know. cleanly rip out somebody's lungs if she feels like it.

it's one thing to have a bastard child, but if your bastard child is also smoking all of your legitimate heirs and acolytes that's like. it's a bad look. especially since Ace is, by the standards of her daddy's cult, just way too emotional and sensitive and daydreamy, just way too irresponsible to be having this much power.

(please note that to most normal people Ace is very hard to read and pretty emotionally inscrutable, and she can't figure out why since she spent like twenty years of her life being derided for being such a sap.)

so our girl Saliko—who, don't get me wrong, is a very powerful blood witch in her own right, do not let her get ahold of you because you won't like the shape she leaves your organs in—was like. okay. I fucking hate this kid, she's an embarrassment on our noble father's spotless reputation, and she has too much juice. what to do. and her brilliant solution is an elaborate sacrifice on Ace's 21st birthday that would, in theory, let Saliko suck up all of Ace's raw magic prowess and also kill Ace. so that's a win win, right? especially since Ace was down for it! again, she's always loved her big sister and wanted to help her out however she can!

the whole thing got botched on several levels, which is perhaps obvious given that Ace isn't dead, and their dad was pissed, since he's never actually been the one who has a problem with Ace; that's all on his followers. he's not, like, dad of the year, given the murder cult stuff, but he is very find of her and Saliko is turbo grounded for the attempted murder, by which I mean she's spending a few years in some of torture dungeon being submerged in acid 24/7 or some shit like that so she has to constantly heal herself and doesn't have time to scheme.

normal family stuff, y'know.

[prouc]

Hiiiieeeeyo!! This one’s self indulgent 😣!! But a ghost/aparation/poltergeist whatever-you-wanna-call-it reader x Art?? And even more self indulgent, they were lovers when the reader was alive?

OF COURSE!!!!!!! I LOVE THE IDEA SO MUCH

AFTER DEATH DO US APART

I have always been an atheist, I lived laughing when people promised me that there was an afterlife, or some kind of omnipotent god who was always watching, but after being dead for almost ten years now, the only thing I can say, is, I wish that was the case.

Instead of the black hole of nothingness I expected when I died in that car acident, I was met with the fate of being an entity, not a zombie as I first supposed, as no one could exactly see me and I couldn't have contact with anything. I ended up with a fate worse than death itself, the absolute boredom of just being able to watch...

I decided to ''make the most'' of my situation and follow my family around, while also trying to decipher what the hell I was, I didn't think ghosts existed, but it also appeared I was the only one too with this sick fate....Was this some kind of punishment from the same god I mocked years ago...?

I don't know, but I felt lonely, of course I would, there was no one to talk to... or to even touch. I said earlier I tried to follow my family around, making sure they were doing okay, but one person I wasn't being able to find was my boyfriend, I got into the car accident with him but after years of searching, or stalking my family waiting if they said something about him, I was met with nothing, no words were spoken, his name vanished from their tongues, from their memory...But how could that had happened..?

Was he also a ghost...? Was he some kind of creature now..? I could feel my (not-there) head hurting somehow each time I thought too much in the matter, and I decided to drop it. While deciding to investigate some new faces from my childhood neighborhood, I ended up ''staying for dinner'' with a family of four, the couple had a little girl and a boy, and they seemed happy enough for me to stick around to lift my spirits (get it?). I was laying on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about my old life, how I missed my dairy cup of coffee, touching myself, my boyfriend's lips on my cunt as I gripping his hair-...You know, the pleasurable things about life.

While I dreamed off my existence, I didn't hear the front door being slammed open, when I finally noticed someone was inside the house was when I heard screams from the mother of those kids, telling them to run. I immediatly fell to the floor, and as if the intruder could see me, I hid out of instict behind the couch I was laying pacefully before. Peeking out when I saw the little girl hiding in a cupboard on the floor, seeing a male walking towards said cupboard, he had probably heard her sobs through the wood, shit.

I stepped out, I knew I couldn't touch anything or anyone, let alone save that poor girl that was going to be murderer by what appeared to be...a clown...?

It was wearing a black and white pattern costume, black fluffy pom poms and a small top hat, but was made me widen my eyes was the blood that tinted and drenched the costume and the man, he was gripping an axe, wriggling his fingers on it as he silently made his way to the cupboard the girl used as hideout. Maybe it was the shock or my memories, but right away, I didn't recognize such familiar costume...

As the clown opened the cupboard, I threw myself on him, and surprisingly, my fingers made contact with the back of costume, my arms quickly wrapping around his shoulders as I made both of us fall down on our back. Maybe it had been a bad idea, because for the first time in ten years, that hurt like shit. I coughed and tried to roll on top of him as the girl ran through the opened front door, I strandled his hips, jaw clenched in pain and tension as I sat on top of him, my hands grabing his collar when my heart dropped.

''What the actual fuck-?'' I asked to no one as my head decided to iluminate me with the recognition of my boyfriend from ten years ago, the one who supoosedly died too...But now was changed- Now was covered in blood, Shit- his fucking costume. This was his costume when he acted on the circus-

The clown stayed in what appeared to be shock too- before he dropped his widened eyes and parted lips, which were now painted black, clenching his jaw and hardening his glare immediatly, kicking my side, and surprisingly again, it made contact. I was threw to the floor next to him and clunched my side, coughing.

''Damnit- What the hell are you doing, Arthur-?!'' I asked, not letting myself froze in shock from this whole ordeal. He then turned the tables, me strandling him but under, him between my legs, the axe forgotten on the floor too away from me to stab some sense into his head.

I looked at him with ragged breaths, gulping softly as he just looked down at me, eyes devoid of any emotion apparent, black holes staring into my own, frightened from what I have seen him covered with, imagining what he had done to that poor family. We tayed in silence for what appeared to be a long time before his right hand shoot up, I flinched, gasping softly and almost daring to close my eyes when his hand made soft and gentle contrast with my skin...The first time in a long time I have been touched this gently...like he used to. I could feel my eyes softening, almost forgetting in what ways we had met again. His face hadn't ''changed'' but it was as if his facial features were more pronunced, as if they were prosthetics, his eyes dead and his face decorated with the exact same makeout he did for his shows, those same shows I attended...

''What has happened to you, my love...? Where have you been...? I have- I have searched for you so much...'' I said softly, he ''seemed'' angry, serious or just silently devoid of any emotion, but the way he caressed my cheek, his thumb on my lower lip, slightly parting my lips as he used to...He had changed, and I was sure he also wasn't human, but right now, when his eyes also softened and changed when I spoke, almost looking gulty but still not parting his lips to explain himself, to tell me what has happened.

He shook his head silently at me, his eyes holding the first emotion I have seen on him since I met him again, sadness. His eyes slowly lifted from my figure to my own and he leaned closer, his hands coming down to my shoulders, as if he was trying to hug me, as if that motion he had done again and again years ago, it was now unusual, as if he hadn't hugged in a long time...

I instinctively hugged him back, almost crying when my hands made contact with something again, with him...

''Why...Why don't you-'' I gulped again, feeling a knot in my throat from all the unspoken emotions from the two of us. ''Arthur...Why don't you speak to me...? Are you okay...-?'' I tried again, and i could almost feel him flinch the moment i mentioned his name, his head resting on my chest as he did years ago, his hands ever so slightly trembling as he cradled me, and he shook his head again.

''You can't...speak?'' I asked in a whisper, almost scared of the answer, afraid that something had happened to my love...even if he was trying to kill a poor girl moments ago.

He nodded, his grip becoming tighter before he lifted his head, black eyes looking into mine. I furrowed my eyebrows in worry, this time it was my grip which tightened, I parted my lips shakily to speak, my hand caressing his cheek as he looked up to me, he felt broken, like someone had corrupted him, taking away the soul of my Arthur, using it to create such crimes...

''Please tell me what happened- I thought you died...There has to be away for you to...tell me.'' I said in barely a whisper, but he heard me, looking away furrowing his eyebrows tightly, a thin line as his mouth as he shook his head, as if he couldn't tell me anything.

I parted my lips to talk again, not understanding anything at all. How was it possible that he could touch and see her while everyone else couldn't, why was he alive and why was she not able to find him after all these years. Why the fuck was he hurting people, were those prothetics...? What was he now...?

But before I could make a sound, as if he knew what I was going to interrogate him with, he lowered his head again towards my chest and collarbone, and I thought he was just going to ignored me before I gasped from the sudden sensation on my higher collarbone. His grip tightened around me, and I could feel my thoughts being ''ripped apart'' from my brain to focus on the kisses and little nips he was giving me.

''Art-Arthur...-! Wait- We have so much to talk-'' I bit my lower lip at the rather ''hard'' nip he gave to my neck on my pulse point, my legs wrapping around his hips as he began to suck and tease all my collarbone, his hands grazing my sides, almost impatiently. It was as if he had changed, no, as if he had been modified, corrupted into a much harsher Arthur...and it almost felt wrong to call him that.

My hands grabbed his shoulders and I tried to push him away before I gasped in delight as he pushed himself higher, kissing ever so softly the side of my lips, one of his hands quickly going behind my head nad pushing my lips agaisnt his own eagerly, as if he had also been waiting for this, and also wanted me to forget about what had happened.

I fluttereed my eyes close as our lips finally made the contact I had been dreaming for years, my hands weakening instantly and going up to cup his face, making out with him in a gentle but familiar way we both learned to love, at least ten years ago. His other hand eagerly caressing down my body before stopping at the hem of my pants, I could feel my pussy throb the instant he decided to put his hand around the hem of the constricting clothes, and pull them down, leaving me in my shirt and undearwear, my pants forgotten on the floor. He never once stopped cupping the back of my head, remembering the movements he had to make with his lips in order for me to melt in his touch.

His bloodied fingers ripped my underwear, his new eager and harsh side showing, and I don't know if I should like it this fucking much- My eyebrows furroweed in pleasure as my legs were parted open by him, two fingers finally finding my clit, instantly moving them in circles, making me buckle my hips from the friction I needed after years of being a fucking ghost and moans escaping my lips between kisses. I didn't open my eyes, I didn't need to look up to know how fucking bad he was grinning, as he always did, knowing how to make me drunk of his touch and abusing that power while also teasing me about it. In this moment, I didn't care that he had probably killed that family, they could go to hell for all I care...

After everything I have been through, I only wanted one thing, and it was him. Even if he had changed, even if he was now a damn monster who killed for fun or who knows why, if that was my Arthur now...then so be it.

I didn't see him smile, but I felt it between kisses, as he began to move his fingers faster, almost too painful for my unused and needy clit. My core throbbed again, harder this time, advising me that I was going to come, and rather quickly, but that was normal considering I hadn't been able to touch myself or be touched for a fucking long time.

''Art-'' He stopped me with a kiss, I could taste his black lipstick at this point, and I probably looked like a mess.

''I'm going- fuck, please don't stop, please don't stop....'' I whispered like a mantra, finally teethering against the edge after so long and letting out a whispered moan, my hands gripping his shoulders, hips shaking, my moans silenced by his lips.

While I came down from my orgasm, he continued kissing and nipping my skin, backing away to glance into my hazy eyes and parted lips, panting raggedly, almost not registering the sound of his costume being pulled off.

As he put himself betweem my legs again, I subconsciously parted my legs and wrapped them around hips, my hands grabbing his jaw and lowering his face towards mine, immediatly kissing him again, more needy this time, my hands behind his head, feeling how he positioned himself agaisnt my wet and aching folds. Unspoken emotions and words being thrown as kisses, as touches, as his hips slowly but securely pushing himself inside of me, forcing a pained moan to come out of my lips, furrowing my eyebrows slightly, nipping his lower lip out of pain.

He was finally halway in and it felt as if my pussy had missed him, streching itself to adjust to his girth, aching uncontrollably and making him groan without any sound against my lips, slowly moving his hips to enter me completely, the head of his cock caressing my walls each time he moved, pressing himself tighly against my cervix before he backed his hips and began to snap forward, repeating the movement without mercy for my sensitive cunt.

''Art-Arthur- fuck- it feels so good...so fucking good'' I repeated, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I gripped his shoulders, nails digging in his skinw ithout shame, but he seemed to not care, just focused in rolling his hips in the way I used to love.

I don't even remeber how many times I came, how much I moaned his name, how many tears rolled down my cheeks from overstimulation. But him being between my legs, huffing silently, kissing my tears away gently as he pounded into me, grabbing my body with his hands tinted with the blood of that family, it felt right, as if I could only be seen, be touched when it was him who handled me,who placed his gaze on me, as it was.

Okay, finally finished!

Disclaimer: It is bad, cringe and poor written, I know.

Explaining: I will explain what really happened, Arthur (Art) and the reader (you) had a car accident ten years ago, resulting in the death of both of you, but an entity (probably the same entity who grants Art immortality in the movies), makes a deal with Arthur before he dies, if he follows his commands, turning him in a puppet to commit crimes, he will keep you safe, and will eventually see you again. Both Arthur and the reader begins to lose their humanity, their memories, the feelings of the real worlds but in diferent aspects and intensities, until they meet again.

Art can't tell the reader anything as it was a deal he made with the entity and decides to distract her by the way he used to when they were alive.

Art is then the only one who can see and touch the reader, as it was promised and granted by the entity, that's why she is a ''ghost'' until Art touches her.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Okay.. hear me out the song 'Stick Season' by Noah Kahan... for a fic like her and spence break up and she can't move on from him...

Oh you mean my FAVORITE NOAH KAHAN SONG???

Absolutely girlboss.

It ended up being 3.5k, so please please enjoy!!

(it's a gn! fic btw)

You must have had yourself a change of heart like Halfway through the drive Because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign Kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right

Everyone in the BAU hated letting Spencer drive. It was a fact of the universe. It wasn’t because he was bad at it, in fact he was quite a good driver. But whenever he would drive, it was constant chatter, constant rambling, and sometimes, it would be in between NPR segments where Spencer would correct someone or pause to discuss interesting facts that he knew. 

So when Spencer offered to drive the team to the hotel across town, no one had the guts to say no. It was some random town in Vermont, in the middle of October, some weird string of murders throwing another small town into disarray. He was in the middle of describing the science behind why certain leaves change into certain colors when his voice died out.

They were at one of two stop lights in town and they were stopped at one of them. Spencer was looking diagonally across at some random coffee shop, and Derek could not, for the life of him, figure out why Spencer was looking over there. 

“Reid? Hello.” 

“It’s her.” 

“Who?” Derek followed his line of sight again and realized what Spencer was looking at, well, who he was looking at. 

You. 

“Oh my god. Isn’t that…” 

Spencer nodded his head. 

“Why is she…” 

Spencer just stared at you. “I don’t know.” 

You were now leaving the coffee shop, cup in hand and small brown bag in the other. Spencer could probably guess what was in both. 

“Green light Reid.” 

The two of them started to move again, but neither of them spoke on the way to the hotel. It was almost unbelievable that they hadn’t seen you in over two years and yet here you were, in some random town that had a serial killer. 

Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face And memories are somethin' even smoking weed does not replace And I am terrified of weather 'cause I see you when it rains Doc told me to travel, but there's COVID on the planes

“No no. Lucille. You don’t understand. He was like, nerdy hot. And I fucked up big time.” 

Lucille snorted and handed you the blunt in her hand. “My love, my life. I bet you, he was the problem.”

You scoffed and took a hit. “Yeah right.” 

Lucille raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “You’re not still in love with the guy are you?” 

“When you put it like that it makes me sound pathetic.” 

“Oh girl no, you are, aren't you.” 

You sighed and took another hit—a long inhale this time to compensate. 

“Sweetie, you are WAY too good for him.” 

You laughed. “Mr three PhDs, four Bachelors, and FBI? Yeah. I don’t think so.” 

“Weren’t you Mrs FBI?” 

“That’s Miss FBI to you. Mrs is reserved for happy married stupid people.” You grumbled and closed your eyes. 

“Wow.” 

“Wow What.” 

“He was really the one wasn’t he.” 

You nodded. “I really thought….god I’m so stupid.” You stood up and started pacing along the porch of your house. 

Once you and Spencer had broken up, you needed to get out of there. There had to be somewhere where he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t find you. So you closed your eyes and pointed to a random spot on the map. Then when you realized you pointed to Las Vegas, you sat down and wrote down what you knew about Spencer, then tried to find somewhere that he had the lowest percentage of going. 

And Fairlee seemed like the right place. There was nothing for him out here. 

Except for you. 

But Spencer didn’t feel that way. Not anymore at least.

You had taken up teaching, obtaining your teaching certificate up in Vermont and becoming one of ten teachers in the high school (which supported any child in a half hour radius). 

It wasn’t hunting down serial killers, but it was still fulfilling. 

That’s how you met Lucille. She was another teacher, in need of a roommate, and the rest is history. 

“You’re floating away again.” 

You snapped back to the conversation. “Sorry. Just. Really thought we were going to get married and be with each other and shit but.” 

“But?” 

“He wasn’t ready. You’d think three years knowing one another and being friends, and then another three years of dating would, you know. Add up to something.” 

“I’m sorry sweetie.” Lucille took your hand and squeezed it tightly. “He doesn’t deserve you.” 

“Yeah…maybe, I don’t know.” 

She squeezed it again. “Tonight’s the night Damian invited us all down to the bar to hang out, I know we said no but…might as well get free drinks out of a guy who will never get the hint. Free booze, boost of ego. You’re young, you’re hot.” 

“I see what you’re doing.” You smiled down at her. “But it’s raining and I’m not in the mood to get soaking wet just from walking from the house to the car then the car to the bar….”

“Pleaseeeee.” 

Just as you were about to answer, a pair of headlights turned onto your driveway. 

You’d know those stupid fucking headlights anywhere. 

“Who do we know that drives a black suburban?” 

Lucille shrugged. “I don’t think we know anyone who has one in town, why? Is that what the car is?” 

You nodded, your stomach dropping. 

“Luce. Hide the weed.” 

“Why, it's not Tom and you know he’s over here every—-“

“Now. Luce.” 

She furrowed her brows as the headlights stopped in front of the house. She quickly grabbed everything and went into the house. 

You stood on the porch, in your pajamas pants, and a sweatshirt, hands in the front porch. 

The car turned off and you watched as three figures got out of the car and walked up to the porch, freezing as they looked at you, the rain pouring down on them. 

“Why are you here Hotch?” 

The man was frozen,and he looked over at Emily, who was just as baffled to see you. 

“Y/n?” 

“Why are you here?” You asked again. 

“Why are you here?” 

“This is my home Em.” You stepped back a couple of steps and gestured for them to come up onto the porch so they don’t have to stand in the rain anymore. 

Spencer was silent the whole time, not taking his eyes off of you. 

The three of them moved up the porch and went towards the door, but you blocked them. 

“You need a warrant if you want to enter my house, Hotch. What are you doing here.” 

“We need to speak to Lucille Walkner.” 

“Why.” 

Emily raised her eyebrows, and crossed her arms. She was used to how stubborn you were, but being on the receiving end of it was something she was not a fan of. 

“It’s in regards to the string of murders y/n.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I can guarantee you that I have been with Lucille every moment of every day for the past two weeks.” 

“We’re not accusing her, we’re just asking—“

You cut Emily off. “Asking her questions. Yeah. I know how this goes. In case you forgot or something. It hasn’t been that long. Why do you need to speak to her.” 

“Because she was the last person seen with the most recent victim.” 

You looked at Spencer for the first time since he got here. “So was I. But somehow you failed to mention that as well. You’re losing your grip, Doctor.” 

The group had never heard your voice so flat, so strict, so full of disdain. It was easy for you to treat him like he was the villain. He felt like one. He was one. 

“Y/n.” 

You broke your staring contest with Spencer and looked over at Hotch. “Get a warrant and come back tomorrow.” 

And with that you walked into your house and locked the door behind you. Feeling a bit more bitter than usual, you turned off the porch light too.

They all stood out there. Dumbfounded. 

And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now your tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do

When the BAU showed up at your door with the proper paperwork the next morning, both you and your roommate were at work, twenty minutes away. 

Your sense of humor still intact since you managed to leave a sticky note for them: 

At work. home by 4.

But that didn’t stop the caped crusaders of the BAU. 

When they showed up at the school to interview you and your roommate, Lucille went first, recounting the night all three of you went out to one of three bars in the town, and then when you offered to drive her home, she insisted on calling her own roommate. When you watched her get into her roommate's car, the both of you went home. 

When you recounted the same exact story, you both were released for the day. 

“Heard you were a pain in the ass yesterday.” 

You stopped in the hallway and turned around, facing Derek Morgan. “What do you want, Agent.” 

“Woah woah what’s with the formalities.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Derek. I’m really not in the mood. I fit the victimology of the asshole on a murder spree, and the team acted like I didn’t fucking know that. I’ve also realized you haven’t connected the fact that all of them are dating or sleeping with the police force.” 

“All? We only knew two of the five—“

“Because half of them don’t want to admit that they’re cheating on their wives, and the other half don’t want to admit they’re dating anyone regardless of marital status. Not a single one of the victims were married.”

Derek just stared at you. “Touchy subject?” 

You closed your eyes. “I still have a gun license Derek. Don’t make me use it.” 

“Too soon?” 

“Yeah Derek. Too soon.” You sighed as he pulled you into a hug. 

“We miss you y’a know. It’s not the same.” 

“I’m sure.” You squeezed him tightly. 

“And I’m serious. We haven’t found anyone nearly as good as you have been.” He whispered, kissing your head. “Your desk is still empty. Hotch won’t let anyone sit there. I think he’s hoping you’d come back. I think we all are.” 

“I can’t even look at him and it’s been two years” you whispered trying not to cry. 

“I know.” He just squeezed you. “I know.” 

“God I just….”

Derek pulled you into an empty classroom the second he felt your body tense up. There was one thing you hated more than crying, and it was crying in public. Once the door to the classroom was closed, he pulled you back into the hug, letting your tears pour down his shoulder.

“God I thought I’d never have to see you people again.” 

Derek chuckled. “Clearly you didn’t read your contract. It’s required that you’re supposed to see me at least seven times a year and if you don’t, I hunt you down.” 

You laughed through your tears and sat down on one of the desks. “You wish.” 

“I do.” 

“Be serious Derek.” 

“I am.” 

You sighed and looked up at him. “Well. Now you know where I am so. Come and visit me I guess.” 

“Oh I plan on it gorgeous.” 

You used the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away some of the tears still clinging to your cheeks. 

“He misses you too.” 

“Derek….”

He knew it ws dangerous territory, but he had to let you know—He needed you to know how it was affecting everyone, even though it’s been two years. “He does.” 

“Why would you tell me that Derek.”  

“You have to–

“Have to what Derek. I don’t wan—that’s a lie. What I would fucking give to be back in DC; back at the FBI. But I can’t do it Derek. I can’t go back.” 

“But–”

���No.” You backed away from him, out of his arms. “I’m not going back.”

“Please.” Derek watched as your back straightened and your eyes hardened. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were just starting to move on. Fuck. He watched as you closed yourself off again. 

“Do you need anything else agent or can I go.” 

“Y/n…”

“Then goodbye Agent Morgan.” 

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad No, I am no longer funny 'cause I miss the way you laugh You once called me forever now you still can't call me back

Unexpectedly, but expectedly, the killer was caught. He was some sort of religious nut who had decided that “immoral sinners” be put in your place. 

That was something you did not miss: the misogynistic murderers. 

But the BAU was getting ready to leave. You were grateful that they had come and protected the community you had grown so close to, but the thought of them knowing where you were made you nervous. 

You knew Penelope most likely tracked you from time to time, and you weren’t trying to live completely off the grid/untraceable. But seeing them in person, watching them run around your town, was nerve-wracking. 

Seeing Spencer fucked you up the most though. 

He looked okay; or better than you at least. He was completely and utterly okay, and it bugged the shit out of you. How could he be okay, how could he move on and be happy without you, while you are stuck still trying to locate the remaining pieces of your shattered heart.

To Spencer, you were a wonderful experience. But to you, Spencer was everything. 

The BAU had left, no goodbyes were in order since you had fulfilled your goal of attempting to burn every bridge you had. It was painful, but you just couldn't help it. They reminded you of Spencer. Everything reminded you of Spencer. 

Lucille watched as you slowly transformed back into that lost person from two years ago. Your smile never reached your eyes. You drank just enough to be concerning, but not enough to continuously push the boundaries of alcoholism. Your face was pale. You never laughed or cracked jokes any more. 

All you could do was think of Spencer. Waking up next to him, his arms around your waist. The smell of his apartment, the rides to work, the glances from your desk to his desk. It was all just too painful. 

There were moments where you would pick up your phone and sometimes it felt like the world was against you. Derek posted a picture from some sort of day off, and suddenly you didn’t follow him anymore. Or, if you opened NPR, Doctor Spencer Reid was the headliner in a speaker series at Georgetown in blah blah blah. So you stopped listening to the radio. 

Every since he stepped out of the car in your drive you, you’ve wanted to call him. You’ve wanted to hear him speak to you like he did, to love you like he did. You wanted to call him and hear him apologize and tell you everything was going to be okay and this was all just a big misunderstanding and you were his forever. 

But you had a feeling that if you called, he wouldn’t pick up. 

Oh, that'll have to do My other half was you I hope this pain's just passin' through But I doubt it

One Year Later…

Time flies. Leaves change. Life moves on. 

But suddenly it's back to October and you find yourself in a new town, somewhere completely different. Another fresh start. Maybe this one will stick. 

But then you get a call.  

And it’s from Erin Strauss, offering you your job back, and your hesitation gave her all of the information she wanted to hear. You had three days to make a decision. 

Do you continue to run from place to place, hoping and praying that maybe someday you’d be able to feel like you deserved to be loved again. Hoping that someday someone might actually want to stay. They might want you to stay. 

Do you stay in this new town, and get attached to the people, making new friends, reminding you of the old ones, and hoping that it will be enough to fill the holes in your skin. 

Do you continue to teach. Do you continue to shape minds even though it’s not something you had ever dreamed of doing. Especially when it feels like you’re trying to force your body into loving something it doesn’t. 

Or

Do you go back to the FBI–the BAU.

Do you ignite the flame in your chest and let yourself enjoy the chase. LEt yourself be happy with your job and treasure every moment you get to catch the bad guy. 

Do you accept the job and move back to the desk you belong at, surrounded by your friends. Once again in a building you call home, letting your guard down for the first time in three years. 

Do you let your guard down and talk to Spencer and watch yourself undo all of the progress you had made. Watch as your resolve crumbles and your heart aches and you can;t even breathe around him because it hurts to see him. 

Do you give up and follow him around like some lost puppy and beg for him to take you back so maybe you’ll be able to melt your waxen heart and be happy again. 

You don’t take the job. You never hear from Erin Strauss again. 

And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now your tire tracks and one pair of shoes

Sometimes in your sleep, you can see what your wedding would have looked like. The venue, the florals, your outfits and shoes. Your closest friends and family by your side as you commit your soul to be bound to his. 

But every time you get to the I Do’s, Spencer says yes. 

It hurts because you never even made it that far. 

You didn’t even get an engagement ring. 

All you got were pitiful looks and sympathetic glances while Spencer rambled on about how much he didn’t understand marriage or want children–not that you did, but you would have liked for it to have been a discussion between the two of you. 

You would have liked a lot of things. 

Sometimes, in your dreams, Spencer proposes. 

It never leaves your mind, watching as he publicly declares his love for you. Apparently, that was too much to ask for. 

And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do Have to do

The pain of waiting to be loved feels like you’ve but split down the middle, letting yourself melt apart. The skin, no matter how hard you try, can never be stitched back together, and even if you manage to get some back, it scars over, reminding you for the rest of your life how unloveable you feel. 

Maybe you’ll get lucky and someday you can learn to live with never being truly whole again. 

Since Spencer owns half of you, and you will never be whole without him.

Part 2

[tacitusk1llwhore]

Can you talk more about your opinion on Mary and Arthur’s relationship? I genuinely don’t think that they could have ever worked, with Arthur being an outlaw or not, it seems more like they loved the idea of each other and even if they had ran away, that they would end up resenting one another (something that is sadly quite common in high school sweethearts who end up married)

Absolutely!!!

So before I get started, I just want to say that I don’t necessarily like Mary. Okay, I said it. It’s off my chest. Guys, don’t come for me yet. I’m not saying I don’t like Mary because she’s a woman or anything like that. It is entirely a personal opinion on why I just don’t enjoy her, and it’s absolutely debatable on the reasons I’ll be giving as to why I don’t enjoy her or their relationship.

A few things that sort of rubbed me the wrong way are the way that Mary talks about the gang and the people in it. They’re bad people, they’re murderers and outlaws, and she doesn’t have to have a high opinion of them. However, she knows that these are people who are dear to Arthur that he loves and cares for, and speaking of them to him in such a demeaning manner has to sting. In her letter to him the first time, she says something along the lines of not knowing the polite term for the women that ran with them, as if those women are beneath her or not deserving of the title of just being women because of where they are in life or what she assumes they do (this assumption of them being SWs is fair, but being uppity about it is not). She makes a few other off-comments that rub me the wrong way about the people themselves, which leads into my first point of why I don’t like their relationship.

Mary doesn’t see herself and Arthur on the same level. Again, that’s fine; she doesn’t have to, but that to me brings their relationship down a peg. If you don’t see your partner as an equal, then it won’t ever work; you won’t ever have a healthy relationship, and we can see that by how quickly they argue with one another. I mean, Arthur yells at her in the middle of the street, and she just takes it because she has said some stuff too—they aren’t this perfect lovey-couple, and I don’t think they ever were. You don’t feel that comfortable being that nasty with one another if it isn’t a staple in your relationship. They both felt fine doing that and acting like it never happened after.

This one is overdone, and it can go either way, but their relationship on her end, in the game, is completely transactional. I know, I know, but before you come after me with the “it’s a video game! That’s the point,” hear me out first. Other members of the gang, even in stranger missions, will have missions or scenes where you’re not doing anything for them: Charlotte making Arthur dinner as a thank you, Albert inviting Arthur to the gallery and hanging a picture of him, same with Charles (painter), The Nun sits and talks to Arthur, comforts him as he confides in her, even Rains Fall takes Arthur to get some herbs for his cough. In camp, you can interact with people like normal; there are even times where you can sit down and talk with the women in camp about everything, have heart-to-hearts. The only time they see one another was when she needed something, and the only way they go out on a date is if Arthur agrees to it. This is after the mission where you help her get her brooch back. I feel like this is intentional. There are no fun letters sent back and forth, no additional interactions of them just being (other than the date, which again, only was out of convenience). The only time they see one another is for transaction. Which I feel was intentional.

Them running away together could’ve never worked. Mary even says so herself. She has this wonderful idea of Arthur in her head when they’re together, but as soon as they’re apart, all of the flaws and demons he has come rushing back in. I can’t imagine how maddening it would be for her to be with someone who she knows deep down is someone she loves the idea of, the prospect of what they CAN be, not what they are. For him, it would be maddening to know that the person you’re with looks down on you, that they don’t see you as an equal, that you’re beneath them. Pushing this notion in their head, you can be better than what you are while never truly accepting you as you are, flaws and all. Not to mention that irresistible pull for him to go back to that life eventually. Those demons he does face would always be right around the corner, and giving into them even in the slightest would strain the relationship more.

There was a reason their engagement didn’t work, and Mary has every right in the world to not want to be with Arthur or be involved in the life he leads, no woman who has had the experiences and life she has would. We can see how that works out with Molly. Their relationship is built on idealistic versions of the other and transactions. They miss the nostalgia, that first love. Not to say they don’t have love for one another because it’s very clear they do, but not the love that’s going to weather any storm. Mary and Arthur have such a complex relationship, and I love to talk about it, but I don’t like them together as much as I may get flamed for that. They would, as you said, absolutely end up resenting one another because of these issues. They would never have truly worked out as much as I wished for the both of them.

Loved this ask!

[wisteria-lodge]

wait there are no house elves in malfoy manor? i mean it's possible that during the time voldemort and the others where there the house elves could just be in prison or they are there and jkr just didn't mention them

because let's say there aren't house elves and voldemort and the death eaters are there, who would have prepared the meals or whatever things guest needs when they visit or stay in someone's house

In Harry Potter, we see a few strategies for maintaining and running a magical house. Let’s break it down.

OPTION ONE: NON-MAGIC PEOPLE vs HOUSE ELVES

Yep, we are going to be dropping some Filtch lore today.

So in canon, it’s really hard to explain why that man (who isn’t able to do magic) has that job (caretaking an entire magical castle.) But I’m going to do my best to make it work. Because pre Statute of Secrecy, it actually makes a lot of sense that old medieval buildings like Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor would have been staffed by muggles. 

I mean, the only reason you build castles (big, easily defensible fortresses) is so they can be the last line of defense if anything happens to the serfs who are renting/farming your land. The peasants supply food/clothes/weapons/luxury products to the Lord of the manor/castle, and in return they are protected (in theory.) That’s feudalism. If anything, being a wizard would just make you a better Lord. There’s no way the Malfoys or the Founders would have been sitting at the center of a community of only wizards, there aren’t enough wizards. Also, if you want someone to run/maintain your house and you’re choosing between Muggles and house-elves… in a lot of cases, muggles are actually better.

Like okay, house-elves are slaves, which means they would be cheaper than Muggle peasants, but like… not a lot cheaper. Also, there’s got to be some upfront cost of time/money/effort in order to catch a house-elf and bind them to your house. Once you start getting generations of house-elves that’s not a problem, but when you’re setting up a household… yeah I think getting in a staff of muggles would be quicker and easier.

The other thing house elves have in their favor is that they’re really really powerful. A single house-elf is much more effective than a single human servant. But… they’re also kind of too powerful? If you have a human servant who betrays you, does a bad job, or that you just don’t like… you can fire them, imprison them, and (if you’re a wizard) oblivate them so they can’t tell anyone your secrets. 

None of that works with house-elves. Unlike a human you can’t bribe them (because they have a culture that doesn’t value money.) You can’t imprison them (because whatever magic prevents wizards from apparating doesn’t work on them. Dobby gets in and out the Malfoy dungeons just fine.) I’m also assuming you can't obviate them, because if you COULD then oh my god, Barty Crouch Senior would have 1000000% obviated Winky. 

Until house-elves are freed they do seem to have some magical compulsion that prevents them from speaking ill of their masters…  but they can clearly still mess their masters up pretty badly if they want to. Dobby spends all of Book 2 undermining Lucius. Kreacher spends all of Book 5 undermining Sirius (and honestly is the catalyst for the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.) This doesn’t even seem out of the ordinary: Tom Riddle framed Hokey for Hepzibah Smith’s murder, and apparently everyone bought it. That's another reason a muggle would be a solid choice: even if they wanted to kill a wizard, it would be nearly impossible. But Kreacher and the Hogwarts house-elves actively fight wizards during the Battle of Hogwarts.

So if you have a house-elf that you can’t trust, basically your only option is to free them. Which is bad, because they know all your secrets and can now talk to whoever they want (Dobby absolutely bad-mouths the Malfoys after he's freed. And it’s super plausible that Winky could’ve said something about Barty Junior while she was smashed off Butterbeer.) So really… the only truly safe option is to kill them. And it seems like you have to kill them, by hand, with a sword. The Blacks did sign up for this, and we can see their wall of decapitated house-elf heads as proof. House elves do make more sense for the Blacks, because I'm thinking if they became powerful at around the same time as the Statute, they would have been setting up new muggle-less households, not adapting old ones to the new paradigm. But then, not everyone is as hard-core as the Blacks. The Malfoys, for example, actually seem quite squeamish about violence. Also, Draco is very happy to refer to what Hagrid does as "servant stuff," which means he's comfortable with that particular worldview.

Now, Hogwarts has house-elves, and they certainly don’t seem to kill them. Of course it's a school rather than a house - if one of those elves went rouge, what damage could they really do? Compare that to Dobby. Like, if he wanted to put Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban… he could've given some really damning evidence. Lucius Malfoy’s defense was that he was under the Imperius curse. Dobby knows that’s not true. Dobby knows where all the contraband in that house is, Dobby knows that diary belonged to Voldemort, he knew Lucius was threatening Hogwarts on purpose... Maybe elves aren’t allowed to testify in front of the Wizangamot, but Dobby - bring that info to Arthur Weasley. Bring it to Dumbledore. If I were Lucius Malfoy, I would be terrified. Even if I had other house elves, I don’t know if I’d keep them around after second year. Definitely not after Kreacher went rouge and betrayed Sirius, which *Narcissa* knows all about.

Hogwarts also has Filch (and Hagrid, who *also* can't do magic, at least on paper.) And I guess I could see an interpretation where if Hogwarts was initially designed to be run by Muggles, then maybe there are certain functions of the castle that can only be performed by Muggles. Like we all know there’s something weird going on with Mrs. Norris. She’s too smart, she’s the only animal who shows up on the Marauder’s map, she’s telepathically bonded with Filch. So, maybe she is the manifestation of some magical function that oversees the castle, and maybe you need someone without magic to properly access her magic. Like if a witch/wizard tried to bond with her, their magic gets in the way of the castle’s magic. I’ll buy that. 

Eventually though, Salazar Slytherin started becoming wary of Muggles, so maybe he started a process of phasing out any muggle servants working in the castle and replacing them with house-elves. That makes sense to me. And if the castle needed non-magic workers… squibs would be a good compromise. 

OPTION TWO: AUTOMATED MAGIC

So we know you can cast a spell on an object, and then that object will just sit and do nothing until the spell is triggered. Fred and George’s hats don’t do anything until you put them on - and then they turn your head invisible. You are not doing anything to cast the spell, it’s all in the hat.  Presumably their cloaks and gloves that deflect curses work the same way. 

We see a lot of this kind of delayed-action magic when it comes to magical protections for locations. Dumbledore has spelled Grimauld Place to send specters at anyone who comes through the door. Muggle-repelling charms don’t do anything until a Muggle is in proximity. Voldemort’s inferi cave is filled with magical objects that don’t activate until certain conditions are met. Also, these are not single-use protections that you need to replace every time they’re triggered. Once they're set up, it seems they keep working until they're taken down.

We also know there are plenty of spells that make running a household easier. We see Mrs. Weasley use spells to cook, to make clothes, she has whole books full of household magic. So my thought is - if you can bewitch the outside of a house to respond to certain conditions, then why not the inside of a house? How hard would it really be to bewitch a fireplace so it turns on every time someone walks into the room? I bet you could get beds that make themselves, carpets that clean themselves, make it so that certain meals are always cooked at certain times, and served in specific places. The house probably cycles through a set number of meals, and some of the food options would be slightly eccentric because that piece of food-magic was set in 1702. But it all seems very doable, in a programmable smart-house sort of way. Especially if you’re the Malfoys and have nothing but money, time, and a love of the ~*~*aesthetic*~*~ Because the aesthetic of a house like this would be absolutely peak. Very spooky fairytale, invisible servant, romantic Beauty-and-the-Beast vibes. 

I think this is the option that Malfoys would have chosen, when they no longer had access to Muggles to run their house for them. Apart from the heightened security and a cooler aesthetic, the Malfoys were very against the Statute of Secrecy, so I bet that (for a while at least) they were kind of hoping that it would be reversed and things would go back to the way they were. So, not as motivated to start building up a household staff of house-elves, which is a pretty irreversible decision. 

The Malfoy also like to keep secrets. In the present day of the book, we know they have contraband cursed objects, contraband poisons, a hidden room to keep all of their contraband in underneath the drawing room floor. I don’t think this is a particularly recent state of affairs. Going back to the 1700s, if the Malfoys were ordered to cut off all these very profitable ties with the muggle world… yeah they’re not doing that. They are definitely hiding income coming in from the muggle world, or muggle retainers that they were kind of supposed to obviate and didn’t. 

In the main timeline of the books, I think it makes a lot of sense that Dobby is a Black family house elf that came over with Narcissa when she and Lucius were first married. And I say that because… Dobby is a mess, and Lucius Malfoy puts a lot of stock in looking good while out in public. The Hogwarts house elves look neat and presentable. Winky’s tea-towel toga looks clean and neat. Dobby is shambling around in a snot-stained torn pillowcase, is Lucius not embarrassed? 

My thought is that he kind of resents Dobby: he’s the Black family passive aggressively saying that Lucius can’t take care of Narcissa, or maybe he suspects that the Blacks are sending Dobby over as a spy. But whatever the reason, he can’t get rid of him - first because he doesn’t want to offend his in-laws (Dobby as the equivalent of an ugly lamp that you keep in the closet unless the people who gave you the lamp are visiting.) Then Dobby witnesses the entire first war, which makes him way, way too much of a liability to free. 

So that’s my answer. tl;dr - the Malfoys are a very private family with a long-standing distrust of the Ministry, with a house that was set up to be run by Muggles. It makes the most sense that they have retrofitted that house with automated magic, until it’s basically able to run itself. And then, whenever they’re throwing an event, or something a little too complicated for the house's magic to handle… they just hire in a staff of wizards to work one or two nights.

[serialkilluh1996]

As much as I love this fandom, I have to be honest. It's exhausting. It just feels like everyone here is...not real. Like, they're all playing some kind of pink pretty princess role.

I joined the call of duty fandom because I like the military. And before you come with the whole "propaganda" stuff, I know. It's bad.

But I was a true crime fan long before I got into the military, and I ain't no serial killer yet, so this isn't about me "glazing" the actions of the army. Just... Hear me out. If you hate the military so badly, why are you still in a fandom revolving around the military? Propaganda can be spread through fanfiction. You don't have to buy the game to spread propaganda.

If you keep pushing the idea that army men are hot (they are lol), wouldn't that just push more men to join the army? Let's be honest. Men are whores too. They would absolutely enlist just for female validation.

Most of the bloggers just write the same, overused regurgitated porn and it gets boring. It's not even creative porn, it's just borderline abuse wrapped in a pretty pink ribbon.

And I'd likely be more accepting of the porn if it wasn't the same dumbification and misrepresentation. It's always about some short bimbo in pink frilly skirt and ribbons and rainbows and lollipops getting fucked by this eight foot brute with no morals or personality. It's boring.

What about the tall girls and the fat girls and the black girls and the rowdy girls? Why does she always have to be soft and feminine? Why can't we bring back to boys and emos and really southern women with thick accents and freckles and messy short hair and scars and blemishes?

What about the weird girls who collect dolls or the stuck up women who manipulate people for their own gain? What about the mentally ill girls who are insecure and have a history of drug abuse and self harm?

I just don't understand how a fandom full of women has such a watered down perception of us in almost every fic. It's almost like you don't really enjoy being a woman beyond some pretty glittered mascot.

I'm just so tired of the fake perfections.

You constantly mischaracterize the men in cod to match your fetishes and the only excuse you have is that it's okay because "soldier bad :(" but even the horror fandom knows that you can stay true to someone's personality and acknowledge that they're a bad person.

We know Jason Voorhees' death was sad and he deserved better and that he wouldn't have died if someone actually cared about him enough to pay attention to him. Saying that doesn't disregard the fact that he brutally murdered innocent people who weren't responsible for his death.

I, myself, am a sadist. That doesn't mean Simon Riley would be willing to engage in that kind of roleplay, as he has a lot of trauma revolving around being abused. And if I feel like I have to change his personality to fit that kink, then I really don't like the character.

And even if you're going to switch up the characters and treat their personalities like nothing, why do you do it to yourself? Why do you despise being free beyond sexual expression? Why do you hate having your own personality that can't be sexualized?

You're not some dumb stupid girl who likes heels and shopping and bows and dresses. You're a smart woman who likes heels and shopping and bows and dresses. You like reading and writing.

That alone makes you intelligent. I've seen the way you people write. I learn a new word every time I cross a new fic and I always see your unique ways of setting scenes and describing things, like textures and scents. The women you portray yourselves as wouldn't be capable of that.

I just wish there was more... actual people being represented and not a thousand variations of ddlg.