#but the thing is that he wasn't a creep. he had anger issues and needed therapy but he didn't objectify scully the way padgett did

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ long time coming : aaron hotchner x fem! reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader

summary: after getting hurt out in the field, you're on leave for a month. coming back felt long overdue, that is until your plans with the team lead you to a situation that feels a bit too close for comfort after such a traumatic time. what's worse, your feelings you've harbored for your boss have no choice but to come to light when he makes the odd choice to address you as 'agent' rather than your name after one month of being apart, and years and years of back and forth will-they-wont-they.

content warnings: making out. allusions to sexual assault + r4pe (but only in the context of the case). reader has slight signs of PTSD. anxiety/panic attacks. reader runs into a few pushy men while out at the club. drinking / drunk confessions. reader has a crush on her boss, it is also implied that reader finds derek attractive, and he reciprocates these feelings. hotch is very good at calming reader down. no usage of y/n. reader is described as having shoulder length hair (can be read as a wig/weave) angry/disappointed hotch! reader has been hiding her anxiety / nightmares / memory issues from the team. mentions of vomiting. kissing. mentions of elle & the events of the fisher king. no distinct timeline, but can be read as s7 with the iconic team (hotch, emily, derek, jj, penelope, rossi, & spencer)

"Okay, I didn't know we were going all out. I would've prepared better." you smile shyly as Jennifer pulls you into a tight hug. When Penelope had called you early that morning with an excited decree that you'd been cleared to return to work you hadn't been sure how to feel. You hadn't bothered to ask how Garcia of all people was privy to information you hadn't received from your bosses yet, there was no getting a straight answer when it came to the Technical Analyst.

It had been her idea for the entire team to get together. You'd been out of the office for a full month, and in that time you'd tried your hand at maintaining your bonds with the rest of the group. It of course wasn't the same, but you knew that you'd needed the time. The last time you'd joined them on a case things had gone horribly wrong. You shudder at the thought, you had been doing so good at forgetting about it all, but seeing them again made it all come back.

The unsub had been your run-of-the-mill anger excitation rapist, a creep that had been using an elaborate ruse to entice and entrap women. It had been Emily's idea for the two of you to go undercover, the unsub had been killing two women every week, women who in many ways were polar opposites of one another, a trait that you and Emily shared. Long story short, in the midst of your plan to lure and trap the Unsub, you'd been separated from Emily and cornered.

You’d been carted off by the creep who kept you stuck for three hours before the team used his mistake to find you. By then though, the damage had been done. You remember the look on Rossi's face when he and Hotch came busting in, and found you looking bruised up with a bloody face, and a gun barrel to the side of your head. You'd never seen Hotch quite as scared, at least not since everything with Foyet nearly three years ago when he lost Haley and almost Jack.

You'd been too out-of-sorts to hear the way they'd tried to reason with the Unsub. And you hadn't realized your abdomen was losing blood until a gunshot rang out, bullets whizzing past your head as the unsub curled into himself before falling to the ground. You didn't know much, you thought maybe your eardrums had exploded with the way they were ringing, and you'd half expected to smack your head against the ground and end up with an annoying concussion.

Instead, you'd been met with the sight of your boss. He'd yelled something you weren't privy to, mouth moving as he seemingly forced the rest of the team out of their stupor long enough to get a medic inside to look you over. It was like you said, the details were fuzzy, but nothing had managed to wipe Hotch's worried expression as he fussed over your safety, out of your mind. However, if you were honest with yourself for one measly second, that was nothing new.

Nothing seemed to fill up your mind the way your boss did, and it was stupid, and deplorable all things considered. But it's not like it had even been something you'd asked for. It just happened one day. You shake these thoughts of your near paralyzing emotions away, pulling yourself back to the present as you took in JJ, who despite her perceived candor looked great. "Oh come on Jaige." you huff, and you appraise her more openly. "You look amazing, as usual."

She grins, albeit shyly, and she's waiting, maybe for your approval maybe for something else. She's trying to be discreet as she sweeps your for obvious reminders of what happened, and you feel nervous. Most of your injuries had healed up well enough, and the scratches that littered your face had been covered in a smattering of makeup. You felt comfortable in your pretty girl cocoon, all done up with a bright smile on your face that was surprisingly believable.

"Can I hug you?" she asks, and you can tell she's been holding it in, waiting to ask. You nod your head, a quiet chuckle escaping you as the blonde seems to scoop you into her arms. She's careful not to squeeze too tight, but the love is felt all the same. "God, it's been so weird without you around." she hums, and while the rest of the team is already huddled inside, probably in a booth Penelope picked, you're so happy she's the one here telling you this now.

"Now you know how we all felt when they sent you to the Pentagon." you whisper back, and you hear her bemused giggle as she steps back, and she takes you in again. Your red minidress was a stark contrast to the usual business-casual attire you wore everyday to work. Your hair was curled, pinned back with a gold claw clip, hair just barely ghosting over the divots of your collarbones. You'd opted for a shorter do' following everything with the unsub.

"Never leave us again." she pleads, and you feel this warmth blossoming in your chest at the way she's staring at you, almost like she really means it. You'd joined the team back when Elle and Gideon had still been around. At one point you'd been the rookie, the new girl nobody knew what to expect from. JJ had been right there beside you, even back then. She had been sweet, assertive, your first real friend on the team. She'd welcomed you before anyone else.

In time of course, things had changed, JJ had a husband, kids, a hoard of other units that were plotting on her skills at all times, but she was still JJ. Still that same first friend that helped you to see the Behavioral Analysis Unit was the only place for you. "I'll do my best." you promise, and she grins. She links arms with you before you both head inside the bar. There was music playing, some alternative indie song that wasn't half bad.

"Here's the girl of the hour now." Emily exclaims, and it's clear they've already started tossing back shots. JJ's head is instantly shaking in mortification. So it was going to be one of those nights. Penelope meets you both, pulling JJ from your arms and leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek sweetly, before she's turning to you. She's got tears already brimming in her eyes, and you can't help but giggle at the dramatics of it all.

"I'm so happy to see you." she squeals, and you find yourself hugging back despite the sting of your abdomen. "You look so beautiful." she adds a second afterwards. "What are you looking to get lucky?" she asks, as she uses her hands to push you away slightly, hands resting gently on both of your shoulders. You feel your face growing hot at the implication, and you see the way she's looking at your facial expressions for a signal of your lies. Curse her proximity to profilers.

"I just wanted to look nice." you reply and Penelope lets you off the hook. She leads you to the table, and you're just in time to hear the group finish up their hellos to JJ. She's sitting next to Morgan, who's bright-eyed as he looks up at you. You find yourself fussing with your hair, playing it cool as you press your lips together, re-smearing your lipstick as you waved your hand.

You weren't sure why you felt like the new kid all over again.

"It's good to see you, pretty girl." he croons, and you grin. Morgan was flirty, had been since you met him, and if you weren't so disastrously into Hotch, you think he'd be all on your mind. Well, you know... more than he was. There had been times where you'd been partnered together, and it almost felt like the tension was going to cut you in half. Sexual tension aside though, Derek was your friend.

They all were, and despite what your mind tried to tell you as you sobbed yourself through nightmares during your break from work, they were genuinely happy to see you. "I'm glad you're okay." your eyes flit over to the youngest member of the team. Spence is looking relieved as he too looks up at you with eyes full of relief. He's next to Emily, and she's already downing another drink. She'd be complaining about a migraine the next day, you could hear her now.

"Thanks, Spence." you coo, and you offer him a wink as your eyes fall on the only present member of the team that hadn't addressed you. Rossi had made a point to send his hellos, but due to a previous standing appointment, he wouldn't be joining tonight. You couldn't hold it against him, Rossi was scoping the prairie for wife number four. He offers you a faint smile, the group instantly falling into chatter.

"H-Hey Hotch." you mumble, and he's closest to you, sitting on the outside of the booth as the rest of the team tried their hardest to pretend they weren't expecting this. He doesn't say anything for a moment, instead he takes you in. He wasn't blind, he'd seen you before, you'd always been beautiful, but there was something about you done up like this. Red dress, red lip, bold makeup, and heels that showed off your legs, and accented your model-esque posture.

It was obvious that you were still a bit nervous about being out and about, and you were out of practice with being around the team. He imagined after a bit though you'd be back to yourself. You, and the rest of the girls would be falling into a rhythm in no time. He stands to his feet, much taller than you, as you take a small step back to give him space. "It's good to see you up and about, Agent." and his voice is low, clearly as a courtesy to the bustling of conversation behind you.

"Agent?" you repeat, and the word is so foreign. It makes you take another step back, the bottoms of your Louboutin's clacking against the ground. You looked a bit hurt, but you played it off quickly. "Come on, Hotch. I think we're a little past those formalities." you chuckle awkwardly, and you find yourself looking towards the bar. Yeah, you were definitely going to need a drink. He seems to curse under his breath, but you're not sure if that's due to you, or some internal conflict you weren't privy to. You don't wait to figure it out either.

He doesn't have the opportunity to reply to your correction, because you're looking to Emily, JJ, and Garcia. "Wanna get some shots?" you ask, and you sidestep Aaron, making sure you don't look his way again, as the girls immediately exclaim their agreements. Penelope's sliding out of the booth first, Emily and JJ following her example as they head straight towards the bar. JJ's shooting you a knowing glance as she looks between Hotch and yourself.

"You coming boys?" you extend the invite to Derek and Spencer, who are quick to nod along, both men trailing after the others as they head to the counter to order more drinks. You prepare to follow after them, ready for the welcome respite from your mind swimming in circles.

"I didn't mean to offend you." you stop short, spinning on your heel to meet the gaze of your Unit Chief.

"Well you did." you reply, and your voice is small. "I've known you for almost seven years, and here you are treating me like a stranger." you mumble, and you find yourself tugging at your dress. "I mean, I know it's been a while, but geez Hotch, it's still me." you say and he winces. You're not sure what the last month has been like for the others, but you know what they've been like for you. Torturous. It's been Hell.

"I know." he says, and your eyebrow raises, unmoved by his words. "And again, I didn't mean to offend you." he promises, and he clenches and unclenches his fists by his side. "After everything that happened, I guess I just assumed you'd prefer a more professional approach." he mutters, and you scoff quietly. Classic Aaron Hotchner, running away from interpersonal conflict with his tail tucked between his legs. "You don't even seem comfortable with us tonight."

You blink. Okay well he had a point there, but you were trying.

"It's not that I'm not comfortable." you mutter, and you look over your shoulder at the rest of the team. "I guess I just didn't expect to feel so out of place being out and about." you shrug your shoulders bashfully. "Everyone's normal, everything seems the same." you continue, and you notice the way that Hotch's lips have pressed into a hard line. "And it's like no time has passed at all for anyone else, but for me it's like I never moved." you blink, shivering at the thought.

Hotch's eyebrows furrow inwardly as he takes in your words. "I still feel like I'm-" you trail off, feeling a wide lump growing in your throat. "It's like I never left." you course correct, eyes shutting briefly, lashes brushing against your cheekbones. "Like no matter how much time passes, it still feels like I'm there with him and I'm-"

"I understand." he cuts you off, you think maybe to salvage your pride or to keep you from having a panic attack at the thought. "And you're certain you're ready to come back to work? You know you can take all the time you need." he reminds you, and you are immediately nodding your head as you wave a tired hand his way.

"I can't stay cooped up in my house anymore." you mumble. "It's becoming counterproductive." you huff. "I'm ready." you add a second later. "Apart from this awkwardness, I'm also perfectly fine." and it's a lie, you'd been having nightmares every night. Restless, sleepless evenings full of dread, and jump scares of your own creation. "I mean, I'm here aren't I?" you offer a tight smile as you reach out and tap Hotch's shoulders twice, a tense little conversation ender.

You don't want to stay huddled up with him anymore, not while he was looking at you like he was trying to see into your soul. You turn on your heel, dress swishing side to side as you head for the group. You find yourself in between Emily and Penelope, the blonde to your left immediately sliding a drink in front of you. You down it in a second, the intense burn as the alcohol rested in your chest was a welcome reprieve from the anguish and anxiety you'd been feeling.

You forget about Hotch, and all your heavy feelings by the time you're on your third drink. Your heels feel much too heavy under your feet as you stumble into Emily, the brunette chuckling vibrantly as you hang off each other, the music playing overhead lulling you into a false sense of security. It was nice being like this again after so long, laughing at the dramatic banter between Derek and Penelope. You wondered if they'd remain purely platonic forever.

Trading gossip back and forth with Emily and JJ was always a treat, especially as Spencer tried to keep up with eyes wide as saucers while Emily finally cracked the secrets of her coveted Sin-To-Win weekends. You weren't sure what was funnier, the peeks into Emily's life outside the unit, or the horrified looks that crossed Spence's face with every new tidbit of knowledge he learned about his coworkers. You found your eyes flickering over to Hotch again.

He was stoic as ever, but looser than he would be in the office. He seemed to enjoy being a quiet observer much more than he preferred to be in the mix. He leisurely swirled his glass of scotch, and you felt that familiar buzz of warmth in your chest when you managed to catch him smiling as he quietly passed conversation back and forth with a newly drunk Penelope, and Derek, who looked exasperated.

"Are you just gonna stare at him all night?" you jump a bit, turning to face Emily with surprise swirling in your irises. "If you keep it up, he's gonna catch you." she adds a second afterwards and you tense, head nodding as you scold yourself. You peel away from the bar, drink clutched in your hand. You had to get away from the bar for a second, maybe the cluttered dance floor would be the best distraction.

"Sorry." you mutter, and Emily offers a airy laugh. "He's just usually so serious." you lean into Emily, who nods along. She'd met Hotch after you, but still she'd managed to become so close to him it was almost surreal. She seemed to always know what he was thinking, they were in sync. Unlike you, who seemed to always be on the other end of a hard stare from the man. For a while you just began to assume he hated your guts. Or better put, he was indifferent to your existence.

That was why his look, that look he'd given you as he cradled your head while he waited for backup had been burned into your skull. All that went out of the window the second he'd labeled you 'Agent' though. God, how stupid were you? Emily's amusement makes your eyes roll. "Can I be honest?" she asks, and you nod. Penelope and JJ have migrated to the dance floor, JJ grabbing the good doctor and bringing him along with them. He looks incredibly uncomfortable.

"Sure, Em. If you think it will help." you reply audibly.

"I haven't seen him this relaxed since everything went down." she admits, and you're surprised. As if somehow your presence had been enough to set the stone-serious man at ease. "The first few days after your accident he was a mess." she adds, and she's got a surprising about of stability to her tone to be as inebriated as she was. She lowers her voice some as she leans into you, "He showed up late." she mutters this like it's some sworn secret just meant for the both of you.

"I'm sure Strauss was just riding him about another mishap in the unit." you try, and Emily looks unconvinced and unimpressed with you. "He's our boss, it's kind of his job to worry about us." you finish.

"Yeah, I guess so." Emily concedes, and she looks like she's done talking about it, so you find yourself relaxing. "Still. I've never seen him go that hard against an unsub, maybe you're not the only person that's feeling something." she leaves you with that, trying to keep from tipping as she marched towards the group. You chuckle quietly to yourself, ignoring Emily's words as you focus on finishing your drink. It seemed you'd inadvertently been trying to be alone all along.

You felt some of the tension melt from your shoulders now that you were standing at the bar, away from those prying eyes you couldn't lie to. There's this sound of heavy footsteps, and then the clearing of a throat, as you turn to be met with the sight of a man. He looked to be about your age, cheeks and nose covered in a little smattering of freckles. He's got a head full of shaggy hair that hangs in his face. He takes a quick step, sliding up against the bar beside you.

Way too close.

"Hey." he mumbles, and you appraise him boredly. It's not like he was ugly or anything, but despite Penelope's words you were not looking to get lucky tonight.

"Hi." you offer a dry greeting, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other as the bar seemingly became a beacon for thirsty men. Just as you were politely stepping away from the freckled man, you found yourself bumping into another man who'd slithered up to the bar, your ass pressing against his crotch as his hands wound around your waist. A sleazy chuckle escapes the man's mouth as you gasp. "I'm so sorry." you exclaim, and you're quick to peel away.

You feel trapped though, there were at least four guys, they all seemed to be friends, they all seemed to be in kahoots.

There's a third and fourth man joining the fray, they all looked to be about the same age, height, and weight class. This was probably their routine: approach and overwhelm whatever drunk girl they might have happened upon. It looked like you were tonight's target. "Hey, what's the rush?" the guy closest to you drawls, and you wonder where all your years of training have gone. His arm raises, and it feels like he might hit you so you flinch way too violently.

"Stick around, we'll order the next round." the next demands, and his breath smells like booze. It stinks, and it's hot as it puffs across your face. You almost break your heels backing away from them, suddenly feeling self conscious a`nd way too vulnerable in your short dress.

"No, it's alright, really." you try, and you stumble again. "My friends are right over there." and you point in their general vicinity. "Have a great night though." you offer politely, and you're trying to make your grand escape. One guy, a shaggy blonde haired man is quick to grab you by your forearm, and it's like you're back to that day. Your bureau appointed therapist had been talking to you about your anxiety, how a range of things could become triggers and transport you mentally.

"That wasn't a question. Stay a while." You're stuck, absolutely frozen in place as your entire body tenses up. Some Special Agent you were, the bureau would be so disappointed in you. Your team would be so disappointed in you. All it took to turn you into a pile of nothing was a bit of confrontation. You could remember a stronger version of you, that girl would've had these men on their knees for even thinking of laying hands on you. God, you missed that girl.

His grip on your arm tightens, fingers digging into you harshly as you find yourself surrounded on every side.

"L-Let me go." you huff under your breath, and you crane your neck. You spot JJ, the blonde's eyes locked on yours as the reality of what's going on forces her to sober up. "I just-" and you jerk away, stumbling back completely. You're surprised you don't scream as your glass drops to the ground shattering as glass sprays in every which direction. You feel like your ankle's twisted as you fall back on your ass. You expect to feel the embarrassing thud that came with smacking your ass on the hard floor of a bar, but it never comes.

Instead you feel cocooned by a familiar scent. Strong arms are looped around you, but you suppose your lack of disgust at the action is just a testament of your comfortability. "Are you alright?" it's mumbled against your ear, and the low tone of his voice makes you shiver. All you can really offer is a tight nod as Aaron's guiding you behind him. You don't get to see Hotch in action, not when JJ, Penelope, and Emily are flocking you like Charlie's Angels.

You feel the first signs of the need to barf pricking at you, and you know that you need to get some air. You needed to breathe.

"God, are you okay?" Penelope asks, and you're not sure if you are being dramatic. I mean, it wasn't like they'd done anything really. Now you were gonna look like the freak that ruined a fun night.

"I'm sorry." you chirp, and you miss the way Jennifer and Emily share a hard glance. It's not until you're feeling brisk air whipping around your face that you realize they've taken you outside, and you haven't stopped apologizing. I'm so sorry. Penelope's got wide eyes, quickly brimming with tears as you find yourself crumbling to the ground. Your hand's quick to clutch around your chest as you try to inhale. The dramatics of it all made you even more nauseous.

You should've stayed at home.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Emily's cooing, and it seems being out like this has sliced through her tipsy stupor. She's focused just like she would be on any regular sort of day. "I need you to breathe." she instructs, and JJ's crouching down in front of you, brown eyebrows draw inwardly as she takes in your clearly frantic state. Every puff of air that escapes you is tight and sounds like it hurts. You can just barely hear the sound of a commotion taking place inside.

You do hear JJ's quiet exclamation of "I'll stay with her, go check on Hotch and Derek!" before Penelope and Emily are heading back into the packed building. She calls your name, and it takes a while for you to regain your voice. She's devoid of pity, which you appreciate. JJ knew more than anyone how much you hated being seen as a burden, or someone to be sorry for. Pride was a killer. "Can you try and take a deep breath for me?" and it's then you realize your choppy little intakes of air weren't doing you any favors.

It takes a great deal of effort for your vision to be less blurry. Your ears were full of cotton, and your head was swimming. You feel bile again in the back of your throat, and you jerk away from JJ's reach. You feel like you're suffocating, transported away from the random bar in the middle of Virginia, and back to a place you'd fought so hard to escape. You were certain you'd remember that unsub forever. His evil eyes, the way he tried to use your entrails like paint.

You remember how Elle had changed after she'd been attacked by Garner. How she had changed so much that she had no choice but to step away from the Unit. Would that be your life? You didn't want that life, but it was clear you needed something, you needed help. You couldn't focus on anything else, but what had happened. You'd ruined a night out because the act of being cornered was enough to transport you back.

JJ's still peering at you as if she's waiting for you to start panicking, and maybe you were. "I'm sorry." you huff again, and JJ's shaking her head at you.

There's a deep frown etched into her face as she sighs herself. "Stop apologizing." she insists, and your lashes are wet with unshed tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. Those assholes should've never put their hands on you." she proceeds. "You know that don't you?" she continues, and you don't know how to respond, so you don't. JJ reads you like an open book, and she smacks her teeth. "Well now you do." she says this firmly. "And I'm sure Hotch and Morgan are teaching them that lesson right now." you tense up again.

"I didn't mean to ruin the-" JJ's offering you a hard glare that shuts you up. Another bad habit you'd picked up since the incident. You were working on it, trying not to blame yourself for things you didn't cause. "I'm sorry." and this time it's not because of tonight. "I was so nervous about tonight.-" you take in a hiccupped breath. "I just wanted to prove that I could bounce back." you explain, and it's the first insight you've allowed anyone. "I figured if I pretend everything's normal, soon enough it would be, but it's too much." you huff.

"And that's okay." she promises. "What you went through isn't something anyone's expecting you to forget about in a month, alright? It's gonna take time, and there will be days where it'll hurt a lot more, and there will be days where you're feeling like your old self again." she promises. "What you need to understand is that we-" she pauses as you take it in. "are your family." she finishes, and your lips start to twitch, you're not sure if you'll smile or cry.

"I know-" you proceed, and she holds a hand up in front of you.

"Let me finish." she pleads, and you inhale before nodding. "I don't- none of us want a repeat of what happened with Elle." she says quietly. "None of us want to show up to the unit one day and see your badge and gun sitting on your desk." JJ sighs. "So if you ever start feeling anxious, or terrible, or just like you're back... there." and you wince at the mention. "I want you to call me, call one of us. Don't deal with this alone, alright? Not when you don't have to."

JJ hugs you before you have time to respond, but her words sink deep and make you feel warm inside. "Thanks, Jaige." you mumble against her hair. She squeezes you tighter, and you believe it's to make up for her shyer hug earlier.

"You're welcome." she mumbles back, and then she's pulling back. You don't have much respite, Penelope practically tackling you in a hug of her own. You hadn't even realized the rest of the team has left the bar, you were sure the mood of the night was much lower.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Penelope exhales, and you do too, breathing fine again, save for a few hiccups that escaped you every so often. She lets you go after a beat, and you're quick to take a small step back, suddenly feeling anxious once more.

"Yeah, I'm fine now." your eyes meet Derek and Emily's. "Thank you." and you're chuckling quietly as Derek pulls you into his side. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, and you warm inwardly. Spencer does hug you, and it's a shock. One of those hugs that you never take for granted, because it could be a while before you get another. Once he's pulled away you find yourself still hovering, listening quietly as they all decide the night's not over.

You respectfully bow out, you'd had enough for one day. It's then you notice that Hotch is all by himself. You quietly excuse yourself, but you find that they're not really listening now that you were safer. "Are you alright?" you ask, and your voice is very quiet. Hotch looks up from his phone as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You take in his face, and it's clear he's been in some sort of scuffle. Most notable due to the fact he's got blood smeared under his nose.

"I should be asking you that." he retorts, and your eyebrows furrow in.

"Y-You already did." you remind him, eyes darting away. "Why are you over here by yourself?" you shoot off a round of questions, the wind whipping around, and making you crave the comfort of your bed. You maintain a respectful balance, you weren't in any rush to be all up in someone's space.

"I think I've had enough of crowds for the night." he retorts. You don't realize until it's happened though, your hand reaching up to swipe at the blood that's slowly drying on his upper lip.

"Get into a bar fight?" you ask, and you hold your breath for the answer. Hotch looks down at you, and there's this unreadable expression on his face. You realize that this is nothing new. Hotch had never been easy to read, he was one of the greatest profilers you'd ever met, one of the greatest people. But he'd always been an enigma. His emotions were an Alcatraz all on their own.

"You should see the other guy." the classic rebuttal to a question like yours. It doesn't make you smile, mostly because he's not smiling either. "Are you okay?" and he's got you by your wrist, eyes zoned in on the harsh mark the guy from the bar had left behind. "He never should've touched you." his voice lowers, and there's an annoyance attached to his tone. "I'm so sorry." you find yourself huffing.

"You shouldn't have fought him." you say matter-of-factly. Your fists fold up at your sides, your lips pulling down into a frown. "It'll give everyone the wrong idea." you say, and you wrench your hand away from his grasp.

"Everyone?" he repeats, and he looks confused, classic Hotch.

"Me." you correct, "I'll get the wrong idea." you whisper. "I might actually think you like me." you admit quietly.

"We wouldn't want that." he replies, and his tone is far from mocking. You hate that it makes you crack a smile. You hate that he's always the one that manages to get that reaction out of you.

"Hey, are you two coming? We're all heading to Mo's." Emily calls, and you snort at the fact that their alcohol riddled mind had caused them to forget you'd already declined. You take a step away from Hotch, and you hate that you stumble. You were hating a lot of things tonight. Maybe you weren't as sober as you'd thought.

Aaron looks to you as if he's waiting to see your answer before giving his own, and maybe he was. The second you're politely explaining that you're ready to head home, Aaron is offering to drive you. Derek is whistling, Emily and JJ offering you smug little smirks. Penelope is trying to keep herself secured to Earth. "He's gonna take her home." he whispers to no one in particular, and it's a horrid attempt.

"We all heard, babygirl." Derek replies to her, and you find yourself a bit stuck. The thought of spending the eighteen minute car ride with your boss make you want to scream, but you'd taken a cab. Your own car was parked in the driveway of your place. And he doesn't look like he' taking any goodbyes either way. Rounds of goodbye and see you laters are soon offered. "Take care of our girl, Hotch." Derek calls, and you hear Spencer as he starts to rant about Derek's turn-of-phrase.

Our girl. Hotch finds that the words repeat in his head like an obnoxious echo. "Why are you doing this?" you question quietly. "If you're just trying to make up for the whole Agent thing, there's no need." you proceed, and you take a small step back.

"I'm not trying to make up for that." he replies quickly. "But, you're drunk, and you've been through a lot tonight." he reminds you as if you're ditsy or something. "It wouldn't be smart to leave you by yourself." he continues, and he inhales deeply. He watches the way you watch him, like you're unsure, like you're suspicious. "That isn't a testament of whether or not I think you can handle yourself... and neither was fighting that man at the bar." he promises, and you blink.

"No?" you ask, and your tongue feels extra dry. Like you've licked a stripe of sandpaper.

"No." he reaffirms. "You mean a lot to the team. We wouldn't be the same without you." he says this bit like he means it, and you can't find any trace of a lie residing in his face. He does mean it.

"Thank you, Sir." you reply under your breath, exhaling the word. The chill of the night finally gets to you, and you shiver.

"Can I take you home?" he asks, and you know you're reading into it more than you should. You know what he means, what he's really asking, but delusion was healthy every now and again, right?

"Y-Yeah." your head nods, voice wavering slightly as you take hold of the bottom of your dress. "Yes." you say more firmly.

"Okay." you stand there for a few moments more, passing charged glances back and forth. "You never answered my question earlier." is what he says to break the moment. "About how you were doing..." he proceeds. "I've asked you twice, and both times you-"

"Deflected?" you offer, and his head nods. "I guess I'm just scared you'll see right through whatever my answer is." you admit, and you cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Emily and JJ will at least humor me." you explain. "Penelope won't ask... mostly because she's scared of the answer." you chuckle awkwardly. "Derek and Spence, well I guess they're like you too... but you're here, and they're not... so here we are."

Hotch appraises you for a second, but he doesn't say much else. You're grateful for that, but equal parts annoyed that he wasn't leaping to tell you that you were harder to read than you thought. No such luck. Still, you're surprised when Hotch grabs you by your arm, much gentler than earlier, and he's slowing his stride to be in step with yours. You don't realize you've leaned fully into his side until you feel him tense up. He doesn't say anything though.

A win is a win.

You didn't know much about the inner workings of Aaron Hotchner's mind, but you did know that if he was uncomfortable with your proximity, he would have said so. The walk back to Hotch's car is silent. At least outwardly, inside you were panicking. He opens the passenger side for you, and you imagine a world where this was normal. Where it didn't take you being hit on by sleazy men at a bar to be having these moments with Hotch. But it was impossible.

"Did it hurt?" you ask, once the car is moving. He's adjusted the temperature, a soothing warm pooling from the vents. You're surprised at how quickly he drives, you'd half expected him to be one of those slow as molasses drivers. Hotch looks over at you incredulously, his eyebrows raise, but he doesn't look agitated nor annoyed with you breaking the silence again.

"You'll have to be more specific." he replies, and you hum. You pause for a second, trying to find the right words. At the last second you decide saying it straight would be just as good as anything else.

"Punching that guy?" you ask, and Hotch's lips quirk upwards, he was amused with you. In truth, he had no idea what he was thinking. As soon as the girls had ushered you away, he'd found himself swinging before he could think of the repercussions. All he knew was that you'd sounded scared, you'd sounded unlike yourself in a way that made him angry. Everyone saw how you had changed, the elephant in the room was hard to ignore. But you were trying, he could give you that.

"No." he mumbles, and that likely has a lot to do with the fact that he hasn't come down. He's still on edge, still watching you like you might at any moment start spiraling. "Besides, it was worth it." and he says this a bit under his breath, you hear it all the same. "I doubt he'll try it again." he admits, and you feel liberated. It was nice to have someone fighting for you, fighting the fights you weren't capable of.

"Thanks, Hotch." you hum, and it triggers a yawn.

"Back to Hotch?" he asks, and you look over at him confused. You kick your feet back and forth, careful not to dig your heels into the plush of the car's floor.

"Would you prefer I call you sir?" you ask, and he is tapping on the brake, the car slowly peeling to a stop as you come up on a red light.

"No." he answers sternly. "It's not like you." he admits, and the light is turning green again. He steps lightly on the gas, the car surging forward "Especially if you're only calling me Sir, as payback for me calling you Agent." he says, and even though you had tried your hand at pretending the greeting hadn't bothered you, it was obvious he had read right through you.

"Why'd you do that?" you question and your tone is a lot more clipped than you had intended.

"So it did offend you?" he retorts, and you feel anger flaring up. You swallow this feeling, hands balling up by your side.

"Hotch." you snap, and he smirks fully, eyes back on the road. "Can you be serious, please?" you ask, and you probably sound pitiful.

"The last month I've just been..." he trails off momentarily, and you wonder if he's emotional, or just being dramatic. "I should have known better." he expresses. "I should've been there to make sure that what happened didn't." he says, and you tense up. "He never should have gotten the chance to get close enough to cart you off." he completes his thought, and you're shocked. You never would have guessed Hotch blames himself for what happened to you.

"That wasn't your fault." you promise, and you mean it. You'd never once thought of blaming Hotch for what went down. "You were confident in the plan, you were putting your faith in the team."

"There is a very thin line between confidence and arrogance." He rebuttals instantly. "We got cocky, and you suffered because of it." he looks so destroyed as he says this. "And then you showed up tonight, and tried to pretend everything was fine." he notes as you remain silent. "It just reminded me that we're too close." he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "The longer you stay in the unit, the more you become numb to the things we see. You start to ignore the signs that you're not alright." he says, and you'd never thought of it that way.

"Hotch..." you exhale.

"I called you Agent to set up a boundary, or at least I tried." he says this like he's beating himself up. "But then I saw the way it hurt you." and he looks ashamed. "And I never want to be someone who does that to you." you're warring with your heart then. "So I wont do it again." he promises, and he looks to you briefly. "I'll call you by your name, I won't deflect." he adds as your mouth drops open just briefly.

"But, it's not right for someone your age to be so closed off. It's not right for you to pretend to be okay just to keep up with the people around you. If you weren't up to being out, you should've stayed home, our opinions don't outweigh your safety." he lectures you. "They never will." he adds a second after, and he's so sure as he says this. He's slowing down, coming up on your place.

Your leg is shaking slightly, that pesky feeling of anxiety creeping back up on you. "We're here." he says under his breath as if you weren't aware. You don't budge, you can't. You have so much to say, but where do you start. Hotch has shut his car off, almost like he too has a lot sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"I just wanted to prove I could handle it." you admit, and you're crying. "I didn't want to be another Gideon or Elle... or Spence." you cringe at the memories. "I didn't want you guys to handle with me with kid gloves. I didn't want you to see me as the girl who needs the kid gloves." you express honestly, and now your tears are falling in quick precession. "I'm sorry..." you swipe at your face. "I don't know why I'm crying, this is so stupid." you hiss at yourself.

"No, it isn't." the response earns him a surprised glance. "It's good... this is good." Hotch is quick to use a hand to swipe at your tears. He hates the sight of them, but loves what they mean. Your heart's still soft, pliable. You haven't fully succumb to the horrors of the job. "Consider this me atoning." he prompts. "You have my ear, say whatever you need to say." he looks over at you again, and seems to mentally backtrack. "If it'll help you." he adds.

You sniffle audibly, hands clenching and unclenching as the car suddenly feels much too hot. "It's not your fault, okay?" you repeat, and you say it with more certainty. "I just need you to know that." you sniffle again, but your tears keep falling, even as you try to blink them away. "Hotch, you're our leader for a reason, and you were there to save me that night, and you were here to save me tonight." you remind him. "I don't want you to pull back, not when I'm finally making some progress with cracking that hard exterior of yours."

Hotch's lips quirk at your words, and he looks down at his lap. "I've never meant to pull back from you." the inflection with the last words sticks. "I thought I was doing right by you... pulling the band aid off before you got in too deep." he says. "But that was wrong of me, I can admit to that. I'm sorry." and his apologies are like kisses. They wash over you, and force you to believe him.

"Don't apologize to me." you plead, "Just promise not to leave me behind, treat me like an outsider again." you continue as his head nods, and you can trust that he's listening.

"I can do that." he promises.

That seems to be the key to unlocking the dam of your emotions. You choke on the feelings, a quiet sob escaping you as you clasp a hand over your mouth. How dramatic, and pathetic, and God awful were all these feelings. But they'd been years in the making, right?

"Are you alright?." he asks under his breath, worry palpable.

"Do you know that the only thing that kept me from losing it that day was you?" you ask, and your boldness won't leave you, clearly it was now or never. "You told me to 'keep breathing'... you said it over and over and over, and I listened." you explain, and he remembers the day too well. "Even though everything hurt like hell, and there was so much blood." you reminisce. "And I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy, but there was this look." you exhale sadly. "This look you had on your face that made me think... 'maybe it's not just me'"

It isn't. He knows that instantly. You've plagued his mind so severely for so long that he can just barely remember a time where you weren't one of the only things he thought about, worried about, cared about. But he had his post to think about, he was the Unit Chief, your boss, your superior. What would the team think? What would Strauss think? Did it matter? In the grand scheme of things, did those worries outweigh his need, his innate desire to see you safe and protected from harm? Absolutely not. So what was the real problem?

"Hotch..." you inhale deeply, voice cracking distractingly as he gives you his full attention. Something you'd dreamed of, wanted more than anything since the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him. "Aaron." you correct, and you breathe again. "I've been thinking of how to say this... i've been rehearsing it over and over again, because I wanted to get it right, and I just knew tonight would be the night I'd have to have the balls to either say it or let it go forever." you admit.

"Say it..." and he's rushing you, but you suppose that's deserved. You were still stalling, dragging this out way more than you needed to.

"I'm in love with you." and it was out there, and you couldn't take it back. You stare him down, worried about his reaction, about how he would respond. "And it took me getting hurt, and being sent home, away from the team for me to realize." you inhale shakily. "I kept having these-these dreams about that night. All these different scenarios about how things could've turned out different, how I could've died had one thing been out of place." you process.

"You're the reason I'm still here, you're the reason why this team can function, and you're the reason why I- why I came tonight even though my anxiety told me it wasn't safe. Because, somehow I knew that as long as you were here... I'd be okay, and I am." you say, and it's a lot, too much maybe. His reaction is hard to read at first, face just as stoic as most times, but his eyes.... his eyes hold the truth. They melt, pools of warm honey dancing in the darkness residing there.

"And it's inappropriate... and wrong... and silly... but- I couldn't go another day without you knowing, without you hearing from me." you explain. "When you came up to the bar tonight I just... I've never felt this way before... lucky, protected, safe.... and-and I'm not asking for anything from you... I'm not expecting something in return, I just wanted to get it out there... I think we both know it's been a long time coming..." and your words are being swallowed as Aaron leans forward. The middle console is a bridge, a roadblock.

It doesn't deter him though, not from using a hand to gently cup your face, mouth slotting against yours as if it belonged there. You're dizzy, shocked, surprised, but you don't let this mess you up. You can't possibly allow anything to mess up this moment. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two... the seconds tick by with neither of you moving to break the kiss, hands and tongues and breaths fanning over one another as you get acquainted in the most perfect way.

Still, life dealt lots, and yours consisted of a need for oxygen. It's the only reason why you break apart with heady gasps, eyes dilated and fogged with emotions much too heavy to really explain. "Oh, you can't do that." you explain, and Hotch's bemused, eyebrows raising upwards, as his thumb brushes over your cheekbones.

"I can't?" he asks, and he sounds so much lighter now.

"No, you can't. I'll get the wrong idea, you know." you explain, and he smiles brazenly at your callback to earlier. "I'll actually believe you're in love with me or something." you say, and Hotch is slow as he leans back in, a peck being placed right on your lips as your eyelashes flutter, and your heart beats out of control.

"We can't have that, can we?" he's following your lead with the callback, and your cheek presses into his palm.

"I don't know." you answer, and your voice is faint. "I'm scared this'll be a dream." you proceed as Hotch's eyes scan over your frantic face. "I'll wake up and find out that this was all in my head, and the only memories I get to hold on to are from that night." Hotch's lips purse, head shaking in denial as you inhale shakily.

"No, not this time. an ambitious remark. "This time it's real." he promises. "This time I'm here with you to make sure that all those things you felt that night, and earlier by the bar, are how you keep feeling about me." he answers truly. "I'm here to love you back for as long as you'll have me. Is it alright for me to feel that way?" he asks, and your hand jumps up to keep his squished in place against your face.

"You can feel however you want." you reply, and he laughs, a full blown chuckle escaping him as his face seems to light up like a thousand suns. His eyes glisten, twinkling as he looks down at you, like everything was right in the world. And to him it was. Nothing and nobody could hurt you here.

"Good. Then I choose whatever this between you and I leads to, I choose the feelings that come with that." You smile grows to an almost blinding brightness as you reach across the console to hug him, and pull him into your arms. He's quick as he presses a peck to the top of your head, eyes still dancing over you as if he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe he was, that part wasn't your business, all you knew was that loving Aaron was easy, it could be.

A long time coming, but a wait well worth it. Lucky you.

[crow-aeris]

okay yall, the brain worms are at it again....

-----

Jason screams, surging forward as tendrils erupted from what he had thought was an innocuous pendant.

"RED! WING- SHIT. ROB-”

"GO!" Dick, that self sacrificing IDIOT screams, clawing at the oily tendrils before being pulled toward the center and vanishing in a burst of golden light.

Jason jerks forward, fear like never before seizes his chest as he couldn't get his limbs to move. Terror pounded at his temples as he saw Tim hacking at the tendrils with a sharp batarang, the barest crack in his composed appearance was noticeable, and their eyes met from across the room. Even behind the domino mask, Jason could see a fierce resolution in his brother's expression (and the fear and knowing buried behind it).

"STOP STANDING THERE!" Tim shouts, and Jason barely manages to dodge the tendrils striking at him, "GO! GET HELP! G- GO!"

Jason curses, fighting back tears as Tim joined Dick in erupting into a dense smog of golden glow before rushing toward where Damian's unconscious body was hidden.

He tried to grab the kid- he tried. he TRIED- but he was too. fucking. late.

The disgusting black tendrils snatched damian right from his arms. His surroundings faded to a dull buzz for the briefest of moments before slamming back into him,

"GIVE. THEM. BACK!" Jason wailed screamed, snatching the gun from his side before pointing it at the pendant. He forced the primal terror away and ignored the third burst of gold and the sharp-pointed darkness surging toward him. He planted his feet, sucking in a shaky breath and yanked the trigger.

The sound of bullets filled the air, but… but nothing.

The tendrils snared him. The oily substance coated his skin, and he grits his jaw and continues to shoot. This was- this was their last. chance.

....

it doesn't work.

it doesn’t fucking work.

Jason screams, gold filling his vision as every single fiber of his body felt like it was being shredded and burned.

but just before his entirety was lost to the creeping darkness, the sound of SHATTERING filled the air, and everything… disappeared.

But… but that wasn't it, was it. No, it wasn’t, because nothing could EVER be easy when it comes to him, could it?

Against all fucking odds, Jason Peter Todd wakes up from death for the second time... but everything felt… wrong. Different. Uncanny… And why was he shorter???

He wrestles himself out of bed ignoring how achingly familiar the room was before finding a mirror suspiciously where he knew it would be, and seeing the reflection was all the confirmation needed.

He was... little. Small. Innocent, a pure little robin with his wings in tact…

Jason waits for the rage, the anger that accompanied by GREEN-GREEN-GREEN… but it never comes… Interesting…

More differences were that his hair was his natural black that gleamed a dakr red-brown in the right lighting, no white streak in sight. The scars sustained after his pit dip were also missing, and his eyes were still a brilliant cerulean hue...

What. The. Hell? Dear god, Jason utterly loathed time travel bullshit, and this entire clusterfuck was about as bull-fucking-shit as anything could ever get.

His eyes traced the image of his face incredulously, trailing down his chin before landing on a… familiar pendant. Jason snarled wordlessly, anger and frustration rising to his chest as he grabs the wretched thing and hurled it.

The pendant smashes against the wall, and Jason’s ears are suddenly filled with his brothers’ aguished and pained cries.

He lurches forward, guilt slamming into his chest as he gingerly picks up the despicable fucking fucknut of a goddamned object. If it had a mother (it’s creator?), Jason hopes the pendant has to someday watch them BURN. (And sure, it might not be logical to blame an inanimate object for his issues, but his brothers were missing, and he has to go through puberty all over again. Frankly, jason thinks he’s coping pretty fucking well compared to the duffle bag incident…)

There was a deep black string threaded through a miniscule hole at the top, not too unlike the tendrils that yanked him and his brothers away. Jason’s hands were shaking, and you could not find him dead wearing that stupid fucking bullshit-mechaniced deathtrap around his fucking neck (which was now distinctively bare of a thin scar that he had matching with tim), but he couldn’t throw it, lest Dick, Tim, and Damian’s souls were actually trapped in that godforsaken fucker of a pendant.

“Jay?” he hears his mom (could he even call her that? she- she wasn’t sheila, but catherine was a thousand times better… what was he even supposed to do???) call for him, “i heard a crash? is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah!” he calls back- oh god, was he always this- this fucking squeaky?! No fucking wonder bruce snatched him up, jesus christ. For fuck’s sake, he would’ve snatched himself up!

“Are you sure?” Catherine says, knocking gently at the door, “you don’t sound too well, jay.”

Jason swallows past the lump in his throat, feeling the sharp edges of the pendant dig uncomfortably into the palms of his uncalloused hands, “just- just a little cold, i promise!”

“…Okay, hon. Just let me know if you need anything, alright? i love you.”

“I love you too, mom,” Jason echoes, the words feeling like bitter ash on his tongue as the footsteps fade. Even if he was now a fucking pipsqueak, he needs to catalogue any injuries or changes he went through… which was how he discovers an almost tattoo-like marking of a black and gold skeletal bird resting above his beating heart. Poking at it didn’t hurt, but it made the pendant in his hand warm…

He had an idea… a plan if you will, and all it takes is a phone….

=====

PART 2, 3, 4

and the directory

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 3: Medusa's Snake

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

mmafighter!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Toji is a nice parent. Praising. Warnings: Cursed words. Mentions sexual harassment. Word Count: 2696 words. Author's Note: I just finished and I could finally write this *cries happily*

Night was slowly falling over Tokyo. The small, cozy ramen bar stood out with its warm lights and glowing signs, The air was filled with the captivating fragrance of bone broth bubbling in the pots. The dim lighting enhanced the skill of the chef, whose expert hands moved gracefully as he masterfully prepared the noodles at the counter. The murmur of diners, mixed with the sound of steam and noodles cooking, created a gastronomic symphony.

In the middle of the stage, Yuuji, Megumi and I were there to relax after another day of hard training. The delicious broth and the comfort of carbs soothed the stress we had accumulated over the past few days. Sukuna and I have been training restlessly for the past month for the fight that was coming up in a few days. Toji Fushiguro is a superb Muay Thai fighter, a real threat to a boxer like Sukuna. We had to be prepared.

"My brother didn't let you rest?” Yuuji asked me when he saw me stretching my neck with some help from my hands.

"Yes, he told me not to even dare to think about resting because he would kick me out of the gym,” I replied. The stress in my neck came back from just thinking about his tantrums.

I understood that he was nervous about the fight. He had an important title to defend, and every fighter in his weight class and in back-to-back weight classes wanted it. Sukuna is just a king protecting his crown, but this was already too much. All his tension was slowly creeping up on my back. I had to admit that his dedication is admirable. While we were eating a delicious bowl of ramen without worrying about ruining our diets, Sukuna was still training in the empty gym.

“Sukuna always acts like this. It only gets worse with every fight,” Megumi explained without looking away from his bowl. 

“Doesn’t he have a hobby or something like that? If he keeps tensing his muscles like that, it could be bad in the long run.” I knew from experience. 

“He does, but we can't help him with that.” Yuuji shook his head. 

“What? Why not?” I asked. I was his trainer, I should know. 

Yuuji looked for a second at Megumi as if he was hesitating whether to tell me or not. It was little moments like these that made me understand why they were friends despite having two completely different personalities. They could communicate with just their looks and a few gestures. I wish I had a connection like that with someone. Yuuji let out a sigh and went back to eating, completely evading the question.

“Why don't you want to tell me?” I asked him directly. 

“It's just… It's not like he gets relaxed by it. It's more like a good luck ritual,” he explained reluctantly. 

Good luck rituals are common in any sport. There are soccer players who sing an anthem before taking the field, baseball players who wear a special pair of socks, and fighters who tattoo talismans on their backs. I was used to that kind of thing, and I'm sure Yuuji was too.

“There's nothing wrong with that,” I said. 

“It is because Sukuna doesn't know how to hold back,” Yuuji replied.

I could sense that he wanted to avoid the topic. I didn't know exactly why, but he must have had a good reason to do so, so I decided not to insist and continue eating, but we were no longer talking. It wasn't an awkward silence, we were just tired of the subject and needed to relax.

“Yuuji, she's his coach, maybe you should tell her,” Megumi commented after finishing his bowl… 

“It's unnecessary,” his friend answered.

“Gojo knows about it, I think she should also know in case Sukuna tries something, don't you think?” With that comment, I knew that this was no ordinary ritual. 

“You're right.” Yuuji sighed before looking at me. “The thing is… Sukuna must have satisfying sex the night before the fight for good luck,” he finally blurted out. 

"That's not so weird”. I commented before shoving another mouthful of ramen into my mouth. "Why didn't you want to tell me? You didn't want to embarrass your brother?” 

“Because that's why he and Choso don't talk to each other anymore.” Yuuji started with the story.

Days before the night Sukuna became the champion of the light heavyweight weight class, the three brothers had dinner with their parents. At this dinner, Choso excitedly introduced his fiancée. She was his love and pride, his better half. According to Yuuji, she was a very pretty and nice girl, and as usual, Sukuna avoided her like the plague because he was not interested in meeting her at all. 

Since the championship was held in Las Vegas, Choso and his fiancée stayed in the same hotel as Sukuna because Choso wanted to show her how cool his brother was (despite being a complete jerk). The night before the fight, Choso woke up in the middle of the night and realized that his fiancée wasn't in bed with him. She wasn't in the bathroom, and she didn't take her phone with her, but she took her room key with her. 

He went out to look for her and couldn't find her anywhere. Since he didn’t speak English well, he went to Sukuna for help. When he knocked on his door, his fiancée came out of the room with her hair matted and her panties in her hand. He knew about Sukuna's lucky ritual, so he knew perfectly well what had happened. His fiancée cheated on him with his damn brother. Choso went crazy and jumped at Sukuna, but he knocked him out before he could do anything. 

Choso woke up in the hospital bed with Yuuji next to him. According to him, he had never seen him so broken and betrayed in his life. He cried all night while his older brother was preparing for their fight. He knew Sukuna could be many things, but he never thought he would be capable of being a traitor. Needless to say, despite everything, Sukuna won the fight.

"What a jerk.” I grumbled through my teeth. 

"My brother doesn't care about anyone or anything. He can't be changed. I don't know where my parents failed in his upbringing,” Yuuji mentioned with a sigh. 

"That's why you should be careful, Sukuna is capable of doing anything to win,” Megumi warned me.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for telling me.”

The days passed, and the fight was one day away. After a tedious trip to Dubai and a quick stop to unpack at the hotel. The team, Sukuna and I headed out bright and early to the official weigh-in with the fight referee and judges. After Sukuna had lunch, we headed to the exhibition weigh-in at the hotel's convention center. This is where the fighters must appear to be brawling before the fight to get the public's attention. There is also a press round for them to publicize the event during the day. 

Sukuna, Gojo and I were called to the stage along with Toji Fushiguro and his trainers to be the next to go on stage. Sukuna was wearing his headphones and had a very unfriendly look on his face. Gojo asked him to take them off, and he did so between tantrums as I mentally prepared myself to go on stage. This reminded me of the good old days. 

As we walked out onto the stage, the press cameras began to flash and the murmur of reporters manifested itself in the room. I kept my face as serious as possible as Sukuna and Toji greeted each other and prepared for the weigh-in. I watched as he took off his hoodie to reveal his tribal tattoos proudly to the audience. The fighters reluctantly greeted each other with hurtful insults and stepped on the scales. The weight was somewhat different from the morning, as both had eaten breakfast at the hotel buffet. Toji weighed 220 pounds, while Sukuna weighed 215.

The audience applauded when it was announced that both passed the weigh-in. The only thing left was the press round. After Sukuna and Toji exchanged threats, all of us  sat at a long table on stage. Two coaches between the fighters to keep things from getting personal. The emcee asked if anyone had any questions, and the requests bombarded him. The emcee decided to give the floor to the reporter in front of me.

"I have a question for the Medusa’s Snake! How did the man-hating former welterweight champion of the women's division become the trainer of the champion with clear anger issues!?” The reporter exclaimed so that everyone present could hear the question. 

I could feel Sukuna's eyes drilling into my skull for me to turn around and give him explanations on the spot. I carefully approached the microphone to speak loud and clear. 

"I may not like men, but I like champions. I always belong to the winning team," I answered while the photographers kept flashing me.

Medusa’s Snake was the nickname I was baptized with in the first fight I had against a man in the first gym I went to. That fighter was a disgusting man from my past who harassed me in and out of the gym. He would always watch me, try to touch me and follow me home. That was until one day I asked him to train with him, since he was so interested in me. He agreed and during the fight he tried to touch my tits, that was until I kicked him and knocked out a couple of his teeth. He ended up in the hospital and didn't wake up until a day later. From then on, I was nicknamed that way, and my brand as a champion was to be mean to men but honest with women, which wasn't too far from the truth.

"How is your neck? Can you train the world champion in that condition?!” Another reporter asked. 

I used to be the world champion in my weight class until during my fight with Maki Zenin, I fell badly on my neck and tore it. I won the fight, but I lost a lot of range of motion in my neck. The doctor ordered me to rest for an indefinite period of time. It's been like that for almost two years now.

"I am fine, but I'm not fully recovered. My focus at the moment is on doing everything I can to keep Sukuna as champion,” I replied.

"Mr. Ryomen! It is known that you are very strict with admissions at your gym and that there are no women! Why the change?!” Another reporter asked. Sukuna took a few seconds to think about his answer, I could already imagine what stupid thing he would say next. 

"I chose her because she is the best,” he answered without further ado.

A small smile infiltrated my face before I could hide it. That response caught me off guard. It was the first time Sukuna had recognized me like that. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't been nice to be recognized for the first time in two months of work. In fact, it's the first time I've been recognized as a trainer in a long time. Being a woman in a male"dominated world is complicated. You have to be good enough to be accepted, but not be the best so as not to overshadow any man with fragile masculinity.

After a couple more questions and an exchange of threatening hints, we went back backstage. We were about to head to the hotel gym to warm up a bit, but Sukuna stopped me halfway down the hall to confront me. A move that not only seemed strange to me, but also to the team.

"Are you a world-class fighter?” Sukuna questioned me. He couldn't be serious. I was going to answer, but Nanami stepped in. 

"Didn't you know that?” He asked him to make sure he wasn't joking. 

"Did you think we just brought you some random pretty girl so you could finally learn floor techniques?” Gojo interjected in amusement. Sukuna got flustered about the hidden intention of his coach’s questions. 

"I don't waste my time watching female fighting,” Sukuna answered, slightly blushing with embarrassment for being the only one who didn't know who I was. 

"That explains why she beat you up the first day,” Itadori commented with a chuckle. 

"I'm not surprised coming from Medusa’s Snake," someone said in a thick voice behind us. 

It was no other than Toji Fushiguro. A tall, strong and powerful man. A fighter easily recognizable in the crowd. If you put a bag over his head, people could still recognize him by his large physique. Unlike his body, his appearance was quite plain. He had a haircut that was not so long, but not so short. He wore a black sweatshirt, gray shorts and sandals from the brand that sponsors him. Despite his dangerous reputation, he had a pleasant smile, decorated with a small cut on his lip. 

"It's nice to finally meet you,” he greeted me directly, completely ignoring his opponent. 

It felt strange for him to approach me in such a friendly manner, but I still accepted his greeting. Megumi appeared behind him, looking like he was wondering the same thing I was.

"Do you know her, dad?” Megumi asked him in confusion. 

"Do you remember the fight your cousin Maki lost three years ago?” Toji asked without taking his eyes off me. Megumi nodded. “She finished the fight with a perfect Kimura*, someday you should teach me how to do that,” he flattered me with a proud smile, but it vanished when Sukuna came between us. 

Kimura: A technique whose main objective is to exert pressure on the opponent's shoulder and elbow joint to achieve submission in various wrestling disciplines.

"Not even in your dreams, old man.” Sukuna barked with a frown. “She signed a contract saying she belongs to me, so don't even try.”

Seeing Sukuna so defensive about keeping me on his side was strange. After the last two months, he has done nothing but scold me every time I do something wrong in his eyes. Toji didn't even flinch at his threat. I poked him in the ribs to get him to step aside and let me talk. 

"Thanks for the compliment and the offer, but Sukuna is the only one I plan to train until I get back on my feet. I plan to return to the ring soon,” I explained with a smile. 

“I understand. If you change your mind, you know how to find me,” he said while pointing at Megumi. Toji approached Sukuna and gave him a proud smile. “Take good care of her, snakes are great at escaping,” he advised her with a wink before walking away with Megumi and the rest of his team behind him. Sukuna muttered a curse under his breath and let him go.

Two big UFC fighters had recognized me as a good coach and fighter on the same day. It was a big step for my self-esteem and my career. My heart was beating like crazy with excitement, and the smile on my face didn't seem to go away anytime soon. 

“You're smiling like an idiot,” Sukuna scolded me. 

"Can't I be happy that the heavyweight champion just complimented my skills?” I said as we headed for the exit with the others once Toji left our sight. 

"That better be it, and you better not be thinking about going with him,” he challenged me. 

"Are you jealous?” I joked while nudging him. 

"Of course not,” Sukuna answered while rolling his eyes. 

"Don't worry, just behave, and I'll still be yours,” I said in a mocking tone. I was partly joking and partly not. I really wanted him to behave. 

"Nice try,” he spat before picking up the pace to go with Gojo, leaving me behind. “Worth the shot” I thought as I followed them.

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[nieceeee]

“It’s Better This Way.”

P/S: baby daddy!eren and reader are having casual conversation like old times

W/C: 1146

A/N: cute SFW fluffy scene just showing their relationship together. No triggers, light flirting, baby mentioned…

Little snippet of the backstory of my OC (substituted for Eren) showing their relationship dynamic and maybe a few mixed feelings. Wanted to do something cute and simple. (Note: Eren is now in a relationship but wasnt @ the time of conception or in previous fic ‘Let Me Help’) lots of dialogue this time

Previous fic: Let Me Help

“Aye yo, whats up baby mama!” Eren says as you pick up his daily call. “Ugh E, you know I hate when you call me that.” You say, rolling your eyes. You shift the phone to the right side pressing it between your ear and shoulder. “I mean is that not who you are though,” he concluded. You could hear the shrug in his voice. “I would prefer you call me by my name or at least the mother of your child.” you express. “I don't get the negative connotation behind it anyway. You had my baby. You are my baby’s mother therefore you are my babymama.”

Knowing this conversation wasn't going anywhere, you decided to switch the subject. “Anyway, are you coming by to see c/n today?” You ask as you rummage around your room. “I’m going to try. Things have been a little iffy on my end.” He said with a release of breath. You press the speaker and lay the phone down on the dresser. “Issues at home?’ You question as you reach into the top of your closet to grab your shoes. “Unfortunately. I don’t know man. I mean he’s 6 months old. I thought she would be over this by now.” He said.

You and Eren hadn’t been together when he found out about your pregnancy. And when he finally found out, he was already in a different relationship. It wasn’t the easiest thing for him to get back home and tell his then girlfriend that he had a child with his ex. She initially left him out of anger but eventually came back around to try again. Of course, they were still having their own problems in regards to his relationship with you but he refused to let her be a barrier between him and his son. You and Eren had been on and off for years and were best friends well before then so your relationship was pretty much solid before she ever came along, still that didn't stop her from acting the way that she did. You could see how stressful it was on him some days but you both tried to make the most of it. “Well, Rennie baby, if you want it to work then it will. But things like that can take time. But don't get discouraged. You’re a good man and an amazing father.” You encourage him.

You pull a black bodycon dress dress with a thigh spilt and keyhole neckline out from your closet and press it against your body as you speak. “How is he doing anyway?” He asked “Acting like his daddy. Always making noise and trying to eat anything he gets his hands on.” You tease. “Sounds about right. I miss my little man.” He sighed. You laugh to yourself. “Eren, you literally just saw him yesterday.” “Yeah, and that’s way too long. Where is he anyway?” He questioned. “He is in his crib taking a much needed nap.” You say. The sound of a FaceTime call coming in grabbed your attention. “Damn E, I was changing.” You say as you rush to swipe to answer. “I mean, it’s not like I haven't seen it before.” He teases. “Boy, don’t get cussed out.” You say as his face comes into view on the screen. “Can I see him” he asks. You roll your eyes and walk across the hall to the nursery.

Opening the door slowly you turn the camera around so that he can see into the crib. His face softens at the sight of his son as he snaps a few FaceTime photos. After he is finished, you creep your way back out of the room, “My little man is so handsome. Looking just like his daddy.” He smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re full of yourself?” You remark, propping your phone up on the dresser as you walk back into your closet. “No, but I’ve been told I fill people up. You would know.” He playfully shot back. “See this is why you keep getting in trouble now, that mouth of yours.” You say. “I would respond but I’ll let you have that one, where are you going anyway?” He asked. “If you must know, I have a date.” You say checking yourself over again in the mirror. “A date? With who? Since when are you dating?” he fired off questions. “Okay, first of all, you’re c/n’s daddy not mine. Second, you don't know him. And third, why does it matter.” You respond, placing a hand on your hip.

“Cause I need to know who got you out here in this freakum dress like you grown.” he fussed. “Boy, I am grown.” You laugh. “Yeah, aight. Don’t get no whoopin.” He said. “Been there. Done that.” You teased, sending him a wink. You both start laughing again. “But seriously y/n, you look amazing.” He said gently. “Thank you Rennie.” You smile. You pick up two pairs of your heels and hold them out in front of the camera. “Which shoes?” You ask him. “Nude, you only wear red bottoms for me.” He smirked. You roll your eyes again. “You are seriously a hopeless flirt.” You say as you slip into the nude stilettos with clear straps that he chose. You grab a matching set of earrings and a thin chain necklace to complete your fit. “Okay, final look?” You say to him and you give him a spin. He watched you intently, looking you up and down. “Reeeeen.” You whine, “Serious opinion.” “Seriously?” He questioned. You nod at him. “That. Right there. Is why you’re my baby mama right now, cause damn y/n.” He responded. You shake your head at him as you feel the heat flush your face. “Whatever, I have to get ready and go.” You grab your purse and your phone and walk towards the door.

“If you decide to come by text my mom. She’ll be here with c/n.” You tell him grabbing your keys. You say goodbye to your mother as you walk to your car. “Okay, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you make it.” He sounded off. “I know. I will. Will you be here by the time I make it home?” You ask him as you open your driver’s side door and get in the car. “Depends on how late you get back so just text me when you’re on the way.” He says. “Okay, I'm going.” You say. “Okay, I love you babydoll. Talk to you later.” He responds. “I love you too E.” You reply. He smiles and blows you a kiss before hanging up. You sit in the driver seat for a few moments, letting out a bittersweet sigh. It’s better this way you remind yourself as you start the car and pull out of the driveway

[demon-country]

I've read a lot of great meta on here about Blitz's pov around the roleplay thing and his need for processing time following that, which he did not get. And I love Blitz to death, he's tied with Stolas as my favorite character and honestly I relate a lot to him, so it's been a huge relief that I've seen so many posts that are fair and sympathetic to him and everything he did, including his anger at the end there. He's an incredibly nuanced character who has been deeply traumatized, and all of his actions in The Full Moon make perfect sense when you put his specific traumas and trust issues together with his avoidance of anything that might make their relationship "complicated", up to and including his own feelings and the mere idea that maybe all the ways he's noticed Stolas showing that he's interested in more than just sex means that Stolas is interested in more than just sex.

That being said, I don't agree with the argument that Stolas was in the wrong for not giving Blitz time to process his confession before walking away. Sure, maybe that's not the ideal response speaking as an outsider looking in, but of course he didn't stick around, practically no one would've. Even without all the evidence he had that Blitz might reject him, even without his depression and fears that he's a monster, it is soul crushing to confess something important that leaves you vulnerable, and have it be (seemingly) mocked by a person whose opinion matters a lot to you.

And I get why Blitz did it, I'm not trying to put the blame on him or anything; it was very clearly a defense mechanism influenced largely by his self-esteem issues and inability to believe people could love him (the light literally leaves his eyes when the doubt creeps in and that fucking kills me). But there's hardly anyone who wouldn't cut and run after that. If Blitz had asked for time, demanded Stolas explain, or even just ran away himself, Stolas very likely would have gladly given him the time he needed to process. Stolas' part of the duet shows that he was expecting rejection even if he forced himself to believe there was hope he might have a positive reaction, so Blitz saying "wait what? Hold on, are you serious?" to start with wouldn't have been a bad thing to Stolas, because at least it's not a flat out no. But by the time he does get around to asking that, it's too late. Because we've seen that Stolas has had his feelings mocked before by Stella, his decades-long abuser, so it must have cut even deeper for Blitz to seemingly make fun of him when he poured his heart out to him.

Almost no one likes to cry in front of other people, because it feels awful and humiliating, and even less people would feel okay doing it in front of someone who just hurt them. Stolas very politely excused himself, even thanked Blitz, and left to probably go cry his guts out. But Blitz followed him. He understandably wanted to talk about things, but the fact is he just really hurt Stolas. It's completely fair for Stolas to not want to talk to him right then after his feelings were just trampled over, because he needed space even if Blitz needed to talk. Blitz didn't mean any harm by his roleplay bit, because he didn't believe Stolas was serious, but his actions were still hurtful. Blitz had every right to ask Stolas to stop and talk things through with him, and his abandonment trauma was already in full affect by that point, but Stolas also had every right to walk away when his own abuse trauma had just been triggered hard.

The whole situation was, start to finish, one big horrible clashing of trauma responses, which only got worse in the ballroom. So I'm not saying that Blitz was "in the wrong" here either, it certainly wasn't malicious, and moreover he didn't even know Stolas could be hurt emotionally. But holy hell, pretty much any reaction would have been better than (accidentally) making a mockery of Stolas' feelings after his confession. There's probably not a person alive who would take that well if it came from someone they loved. It probably would have hurt Stolas less if Blitz had actually stabbed him with a holy knife, given the way Stella had abused him in the past. It was never about Stolas expecting Blitz to reciprocate his feelings right away, it was about how viscerally awful it feels to put your heart on the line and have your feelings be made fun of, accidental or not.

They both fucked up in this situation, there's no denying that. Stolas was clearly using a script to power through a nerve-wracking interaction, but it was poorly worded at first and he tripped over several of Blitz's trauma landmines as a result, accidentally making him panic. But walking away when he did and later kicking Blitz out were not him fucking up. He definitely could have said something like, "I don't want to talk right now, you really hurt me and I'm very upset. Please come back later and we can talk then" or something in the hall instead of what he actually said which was easily misconstrued, to make Blitz know why he was leaving, but not many people would think to do that when they're that upset, they just want to get away from whoever hurt them.

So no, even though it ended with both of them in tears and even more hurt on both sides, I don't think it was wrong of Stolas to walk away when he did, especially because he did try to explain himself as Blitz followed him (he just wasn't like, great with his wording. Understandable really, most people aren't super articulate when they're deeply upset). And probably it was even a good thing he did, in the end, because it finally clued Stolas into the fact that how he's been treating imps needs to change. I dunno, it's just something I haven't seen talked about yet, and thought it was worth saying.

[atimeofyourlife]

Don't misplace your anger

day 18 | rated: t | wc: 755 | prompts: REVENGE | Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” | cw: assault, violence, mention of catfishing | ao3 Buck thought that everything with the catfish was over and done with. But another unhappy victim confronts him at a scene and wants her revenge.

Buck was happy everything was going back to normal. The catfishing issue seemed to have resolved itself, no more angry women had shown up at the firehouse accusing him of ghosting them. Hen was happier having settled things with Karen. Bobby was in a better mood, but none of them could quite figure out why. And his probationary year was quickly drawing to a close. Sure, it would be better if Abby was there, but he knew how important it was to her to honor her mom by traveling.

But then it all had to go south at a scene.

A car had lost control and crashed into a barrier, causing injury to the driver and passenger. But it was only a single car accident, and they were able to get both people out with minimal effort. So while Hen and Chimney were assessing the patients, Buck was on crowd control. It was a fairly easy part of the job, keeping curious onlookers at a safe distance so they wouldn't interfere.

One woman in the small crowd kept glancing at Buck, then turning and whispering to the man next to her. Buck wasn't sure what to make of it, but just brushed it off. In the year he'd been with the fire department there'd been plenty of instances where members of the public would start whispering to each other about him while he was just trying to do his job.

"Evan Buckley?" He turned to see the woman now stood in front of him.

"Uh, yeah. That's me. How can I help?"

"You're a creep, Buckley." She slapped him hard across the face. "Leading on girls and getting them to tell you all sorts of private information. Then deleting your account like a coward."

"This shit, again." Buck groaned. "I'm sorry that happened to you, but that wasn't me."

"So there's another LAFD firefighter out there with the same name who looks exactly like you?" She scoffed.

"No, my identity was stolen. Some guy saw me on tv or something and decided to use my name and photos to get women to talk to him. Then he died. The accounts were shut down because they were fake." Buck explained desperately. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping he could get someones -anyones- attention, but everyone else was caught up in their jobs. No one was looking in his direction.

"You really expect us to believe that?" The guy beside her asked, flexing to show how big he was. "No one gets to treat my little sister like that."

Buck instinctively stepped back, turning his head to shout for help. "Cap-" was all he got out before the guy's fist hit him in the side of the head, sending him to the ground. He wasn't able to react fast enough before his head hit the ground, hard.

"You need to pay for what you did to her and all the other girls." The guy straddled him and rained down punches, to his head, his chest, his stomach. Only stopping when physically pulled away by Bobby and several of the onlookers.

"Buck, Buck." He was aware of Hen's voice as she started checking him over. "Buck, come on. Open your eyes, talk to us."

"Hurts." Buck mumbled, peeling his eyes open a little, before screwing them shut again against the light.

"No. My brother did nothing wrong." He could hear the young woman screeching. "He was just defending me from that asshole who ghosted me."

"Catfish strikes again, huh Buckaroo?" Chimney asked.

"Ugh." Buck groaned. "Think 'm gonna-"

Hen and Chimney were quick to roll him onto his side so he could throw up without choking.

"Both have been arrested. Athena will want to grab your statement once you feel up to it." Bobby said, coming over to join them. "What's it looking like?"

"Concussion, there's light sensitivity, and he's bleeding from the head. Vomiting, with a small amount of blood. There is some tenderness in the chest and stomach, but we can't know more until he's been checked out at the hospital. Vitals are looking good, though." Chimney explained as Hen fixed a c collar around his neck.

"They going to get the book thrown at them?" Hen asked once Buck had been loaded into the ambulance.

"Athena will make sure of it. Wanting revenge for something that he wasn't involved in isn't any defense. Especially when it's on record that he's a victim of identity theft." Bobby replied. "They're in a heap of trouble for this."

[callsign-bunnie]

No, no, I need AlejxRudy's side of the stalker ghost AU, plsssssssss

Oh hell yeah, I can deliver!

--

Rodolfo was seriously fucked up. He knew that. Anger issues, ptsd, psychotic tendencies. Psychopath was a word frequently thrown around but... he wasn't a psychopath.

He was traumatized.

When Rodolfo was 10 years old, he'd been kidnapped and kept in a creep's basement. He did... horrific things to him. He remembered the cop who rescued him at 18 years old just looked at him in horror and she asked "how are you still alive?"

Rodolfo hadn't had an answer. He hadn't even had that strong of a will to live. But, he'd picked up an anger.

Alejandro knew about it. Of course he did. He'd been friends with Rodolfo before and was there when Rodolfo got out. Rodolfo had become so quickly attached to him. And he'd fallen in love even quicker.

But, Alejandro wasn't in love with Rodolfo. Rodolfo used to think he could handle it but it was harder and harder.

The psychiatrist had commented on how well Rodolfo seemed to be coping. All points considered. It was all a lie. Rodolfo was not coping. He would hurt himself just to remind himself he was alive.

Alejandro kept the fear at bay. When he wasn't around Alejandro, he would get more and more afraid. Terrified the creep would come back. But... he knew he wouldn't. He was dead.

Rodolfo had killed him.

But, without Alejandro, the fear was still there. Maybe this made him obsessive. Maybe he'd gone crazy over Alejandro. But, Rodolfo didn't think it was that bad.

Rodolfo looked in the mirror and tried to make sure he looked decent. He was wearing an outfit that Alejandro had said he liked before. A grey sweater with black jeans. The sweater had a button up under it and he actually looked well put together. He planned to tell him, that day.

Everything had to be perfect. If he didn't do everything perfectly, Alejandro would say no.

Rodolfo took a deep breath and then made sure the emotion in his smile showed. He felt emotion. He felt a lot of emotion. But, he'd been punished, before, for showing it. He'd had to be deadfaced during everything done to him or it would be worse.

So, the ability to show it naturally had just gone away. He now had to put effort into showing it. He'd gotten called uncanny so many times for it, though. He'd taken an acting class, just to do it better.

Rodolfo was sick and tired of being called psychotic and emotionless and uncanny and deadeyed and crazy and psycho and lovesick and freakish and a psychopath. He'd heard it fucking all and none of it fit.

He could feel. He could feel so much he couldn't breathe sometimes. He could feel happiness, he could feel sadness, he could feel love, he could feel anger, he could feel a lot of anger. He could feel everything.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't naturally make his face do the things that everyone else's could.

Rodolfo let out a breath. Whatever. None of that mattered right now. He was going to finally tell Alejandro how he felt. His heart was racing with nerves.

He could do this.

Fuck, he couldn't do this.

Rodolfo covered his face, letting himself shake a little. It all had to be perfect or Alejandro would say no. But, he'd done everything perfectly. He was wearing an outfit Alejandro liked, he was wearing a cologne Alejandro liked, and he had perfectly arranged everything.

He would go to Alejandro's apartment and he'd just tell him everything.

Rodolfo took a deep breath and finally went out.

-

Rodolfo approached the door, making sure to remember how he was supposed to smile. Alejandro had seen the dead face, and he'd... not reacted well. So, he had to remember to put the light back in his eyes.

Rodolfo shook his hands a few times, anxious. Did he use the right shampoo?? Oh god, no, he'd switched, lately. What if Alejandro hated it?? He'd say no. He was definitely going to say no.

Rodolfo went to walk away before frowning, realizing the door was slightly open. Odd. Alejandro was usually safe about his security. Rodolfo pushed the door more open and stepped inside, looking around.

There was noise coming from the bedroom. It sounded like struggling. Rodolfo quickly went to where he knew Alejandro's knife block was, getting out the big one, and carefully crept to the bedroom.

He hoped Alejandro was okay. He peeked through the doorway and his heart sank. Alejandro was on top of someone. It was pretty obvious what they were doing, from the way his hips were moving.

Rodolfo could feel the light die. He felt like he was going to pass out. He covered his mouth, feeling a sob erupt out of it. He jerked back when he saw Alejandro immediately whip to look at the doorway.

Rodolfo quickly went to the kitchen, unable to stop the tears. Even still, he could feel his face was completely rested. He looked at himself in the reflection of the knife and it was such an odd sight. Tears flowing down an empty face.

Alejandro came out of the bedroom, seeming almost shocked. "Rodolfo??"

"Your- your door was open and I-" Rodolfo stopped as he saw someone follow Alejandro. They were the same height as Rodolfo. Same build. They could have been siblings.

Alejandro frowned. "It was?"

Rodolfo nodded a little and looked at the knife again. He felt so odd. Tears were still streaming down his face but he wiped them away, watching his reflection in the knife.

"Who is this, Ale?"

Rodolfo slowly dragged his eyes from the knife to the other person's face, scanning over it. Curiosity played on their features. Confusion. Surprise. It was so easy for them.

"This is Rudy, my friend." Not even best friend. No, he was just the friend. "Rodolfo, this is Aidan..."

Rodolfo took in a shaky breath, wiping his eyes again. He didn't bother to fake an expression. "Nice to meet you." His voice was dead, empty.

Aidan seemed taken back but nodded. "It's nice to meet you, too." He gave a tentative smile and Rodolfo watched him hide slightly behind Alejandro.

Alejandro's hand moved to Aidan's wrist and Rodolfo. just. snapped.

How fucking dare he?! Rodolfo could feel himself trembling again as he gripped the knife tighter.

He came to, to blood. So much blood. It was everywhere. All over him and the floor and Alejandro, who was horrified. Aidan was already dead, just staring at him with an empty expression.

Rodolfo covered his face and started to sob. He dug his nails into his skin and hunched over, sobbing so hard he really couldn't breathe.

He jerked and looked at Alejandro, seeing movement. Alejandro had started to take off, but Rodolfo didn't even think about it. He just lunged forward, grabbing Alejandro's leg and yanking him down.

Alejandro yelled in surprise and Rodolfo immediately climbed over him, straddling him. "How fucking could you?!" He screamed at him. "I've given you all I have left! How could you?!"

Alejandro looked up at him. His eyes were filled with pure terror and it only pissed Rodolfo off more. "Rodolfo, let me go-"

"I gave you every piece of me! I gave you my heart and my soul and I would have given you my body if you asked! I gave you so much and you just- why couldn't you love me?!" Rodolfo sobbed, covering his face.

"Rudy-"

"Don't call me that! You don't deserve to, anymore!" Rodolfo took ragged breaths and then he was strangling Alejandro. He didn't want to kill him, though.

Alejandro struggled against his hands. It should have been so easy for Alejandro to knock Rodolfo off but he couldn't. Rodolfo strangled him until he passed out and then he panted.

He'd made such a mess.

He needed to clean it up.

Rodolfo needed to make sure Alejandro couldn't leave first. Alejandro was kind of naked so he very very reluctantly stuck boxers on him. That was deeply uncomfortable but he'd done it.

Then, he'd tied him up. Cleaning up the blood had been shockingly easy. Rodolfo knew how to do it, already, so he'd just done it. Peroxide for the carpet, bleach for the tile.

Alejandro woke up while Rodolfo was in the shower, but he'd had the good sense to just stay still, watching him move.

Rodolfo had Alejandro's clothes on. It was a fantastic feeling. He went over to him and crouched down. "You're awake."

"What... what is wrong with you?" Alejandro cringed away from him.

Rodolfo frowned. He could feel the rage swelling up inside him. Alejandro thought he was a psycho, too. He took deep breaths and reached for the knife near by. He needed to get rid of him.

Alejandro didn't love him, anyway. Get rid of the heart ache by cutting it out.

Alejandro's eyes widened when he saw Rodolfo grasp his hand around the knife and he winced. "Rudy, Rudy, please..." He pleaded and he shifted around, touching Rodolfo's face with his hands.

Rodolfo knew what he was trying to do. What a fucking cliché. Rodolfo wanted to prove it wouldn't work. Alejandro didn't love him. He knew that.

Alejandro couldn't fool him by touching him and playing pretend. Rodolfo faked a smile and touched Alejandro's wrist, pulling it down. "Don't fucking play act like you love me." Rodolfo's smile dropped. "I know you don't."

"Rudy, I do- Rodolfo, please..." Alejandro pleaded and shook his head. "I'm sorry. What I did was stupid."

Rodolfo watched him beg for his life and considered. He needed to wait until it was night time to take Alejandro out to his car. He looked out the window.

Fingers touched his thigh, he'd not been able to find any pants of Alejandro's that had fit, and Rodolfo immediately jerked away, looking at Alejandro in alarm. Rage boiled inside him again and he pressed the knife to Alejandro's neck. "Don't fucking touch me like that."

Alejandro's breath stuttered and he looked at him. "I'm sorry, I'm only trying to prove that I love you."

"That is not love." Rodolfo looked away. "Not... not when it's done to me." He pulled the knife away and backed up. He went and pulled his still bloodstained jeans on and then grabbed a tie, coming back and using it to gag Alejandro.

Alejandro's eyes followed him and Rodolfo wasn't sure he liked it. "Stop it." He mumbled, looking away. He felt vulnerable.

Alejandro still continued to watch him and Rodolfo clawed at his skin. "Stop!" He yelled, pointing the knife at him.

Alejandro finally looked away and Rodolfo relaxed, taking a deep breath. "We're going to my apartment."

Alejandro cringed but nodded.

-

Rodolfo sat, cross legged, on the bed, watching Alejandro. "Rudy, what are you going to do? Keep me here forever?"

Rodolfo shrugged. He'd given up on making expressions around Alejandro. "No. I..." He took a deep breath. "In a month. I'm going to let you go and kill myself."

Alejandro's eyes widened. "What??"

Rodolfo shrugged again, not too bothered. "You're never going to love me. I know that. But... I want at least a month of play pretend. Then, I'm going to end it."

Alejandro looked almost desperate as he tried to climb to his knees, having to crane his arm at an odd angle. "No, no, Rodolfo- no. Don't kill yourself." He touched Rodolfo's face with his free hand and Rodolfo stared up at him, surprised. "Please, please, Rudy. I... I do love you, I do. I'll prove it to you in any way I can, just please don't kill yourself."

Rodolfo watched him. "You're lying again." He jerked away. "You don't love me. You don't care if I die." He stood and got off the bed.

"No! No, I do love you!" Alejandro tried to reach for him but Rodolfo stayed out of reach. "Rudy, please..." Rodolfo had to be imagining the tears in Alejandro's eyes.

God, they both were so good at pretending, weren't they?

Rodolfo clenched his hands into fists before looking away. "Drop the fucking act, Alejandro."

"It's not an act!" Alejandro shook his head. He sounded so desperate. "Rudy, please... just... come here, please. Please."

Rodolfo hesitated. He couldn't really deny Alejandro. Not when he was begging him like that. He moved closer to him and Alejandro relaxed, immediately. He wrapped his free around around Rodolfo and buried his face in his chest. "Please... please don't kill yourself..."

Rodolfo tensed at first before melting. Oh, Alejandro was so good at pretending. He was almost convincing. Would have convinced anyone else. Not Rudy.

Rodolfo knew the truth.

But, he hugged around Alejandro, a little impressed at the expert way Alejandro just yanked him onto the bed, his arm staying around him as they settled into a laying position.

Rodolfo curled up tightly into Alejandro.

Almost convincing.

[barid-bel-medar]

How much do you figure Aldera's abuse of its students versus Bakugo's mother's belligerent demeanor versus any pre-existing stuff (like how some people seem to portray his quirk requiring him to be angry or get low blood pressure) feeds into Katsuki's current trainwreck mentality at the start of FtE?

By Aldera's abuse, I do think that they set Bakugo up to fail unintentionally by imposing the might makes right and quirk-based "meritocracy" on all its students. While they did constantly praise him and neglect him by giving him no discipline at all, he had to notice that the teachers' admiration was quite conditional. Some folks tend to write the inferiority stemming partially from this, that the first fuckup or time the teachers start to discipline you, you lose it all.

Mitsuki's honestly has almost nothing to do with it. We also need to remember both of his parents told him to apply to more than UA, and it was he who refused to do so. More here he's pretty capable of acknowledging his parents had a point, and they are being supportive of him doing an alternative route to become a hero/believing he can do so.

Also I don't really view Bakugou's Quirk either requiring anger or giving him low blood pressure. Like generally when he's using his Quirk he's not actually angry, he's aggressive. Also in light of how we've gotten the 'push backs' for most other major character's Quirks, I suspect we would have long since gotten it mentioned if he had health related pushbacks. Like if he's having potential low blood pressure, he could be seriously in danger if he overuses his Quirk while fighting; that can cause fainting and dizziness along with other issues. So that has nothing at all to do with it.

(Also I think the more likely danger is literally due to how he sweats nitroglycerin, that the danger is him accidentally blowing something up he's got sweat on because it was too close to a flame or something. Todoroki using his fire against him during the SF could actually have ended insanely bad for both of them)

A lot of it is on Aldera's head, and his own inferiority-superiority complex. Part of what's also now causing issues for him in FtE is he's at an Aldera that doesn't let him get away with shit, and in fact wouldn't be lenient at all (from the district's perspective he's a wasted investment, and the reality is they're very afraid of possible blowback from Izuku). Now he's having in a sense inferiority pressed on him, because he wasn't good enough to get into UA, and Aldera is pissed that they 'wasted' their time and actions.

He's no longer being treated like people view him as being capable of becoming a hero.

But when he's doing things like looking at the Sports Festival for example, he's seeing kids with less 'amazing' or 'heroic' Quirks. So that's further not helping him, because Explosion may not also have been 'good enough'. The idea now is creeping in for him the possibility of what he failed could have been the practical, or even both parts of the test.

[fortanreviews]

I have lost faith in telling people they're wrong online

This is gonna be a different FortRant, it's not a rant made of anger but rather, disappointment.

To some of you, this headline might cause a reaction like "what? Only now???" but I am not talking about telling people they are wrong about real life subjects and hot topic issues, I am talking about telling people they are wrong about ANYTHING. Even if that subject might be completely harmless.

What caused this? A single issue, it was in another Discord server I am no longer part of.

To give you the context, Disney recently released a trailer for their next awful movie which will be a prequel to 2019 Lion King disaster. The story apparently has a bit where Scar, brother of Mufasa, and main antagonist of original movie, is kinda screwed out of the throne by their father or something like that.

And then someone on that server, let's call him "Rick" said, "way to make nazi allegory the good guy".

I had to do a double take when I saw that post.

Now, before we get into the argument me and Rick had, let's explain why calling Scar a nazi allegory is objectively wrong.

Now yes, Be Prepared exists and it has hyenas marching in a scene directly inspired by Triumph of the Will. But outside of that scene, Scar never does anything nazi-ish. Scar becomes a dictator of Pride Lands yes but being a dictator doesn't automatically make you a nazi or even a fascist. Ask Tito.

It is funny because often internet tends to claim that Scar was right and he was using an oppressed minority that were the hyenas to have an uprising, and the famine that happened as soon as he took power wasn't his fault. Rick's argument is the polar opposite of this.

The thing is, much like every other song in the movie, Be Prepared has a big case of "Musical World Hypotheses". Yes, songs like "Circle of Life" and "Can You Feel The Love Tonight" are depicting a thing that happens in the movie's universe, while something like "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" is a colorful embellishment of things that probably took place. "Be Prepared", what with the dramatic color swifts and sudden volcanic eruption that occurs at the end of the song, a fair argument can be made it also falls into same hole as "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" where the visuals of the song are not something that actually happens. The message of the song is "Scar wants power even if he has to resort to murder, and he's gonna give Hyenas false promises so they will do his bidding". The goose-stepping hyenas are not there to be an allegory to nazis, it's just there to show that the hyenas are marching to the beat of Scar's drum, and Triumph of The Will inspiration is there to instill fear into the audience. You never would have expected imagery like this on a Disney film, especially about cartoon lions. It is also a throwback of sorts to Disney's anti-nazi propaganda films like "Education for Death" and "Der Fuehrer's Face".

I can see someone who has never seen the movie make the incorrect assessment that because of Be Prepared, Scar is a nazi allegory. But when you remove Be Prepared from the movie, you can clearly see this isn't the case.

Lion King was inspired by fucking Hamlet, and Scar is directly inspired by King Claudius from the original play, he kills his brother so he can be king, he makes his nephew fuck off and then creeps on his brother's wife. King Claudius is directly inspired by Roman Emperor Claudius, and to be fair, during Shakespeare's time, Claudius was considered to be THE Evil Ruler, even though his son Nero was far worse. So you could directly argue Scar isn't a nazi allegory as much as he is an allegory for Claudius due to association.

And yes, Roman Empire nostalgia was one of the things that inspired Mussolini to create fascism, but that's not the point. To call Scar a "nazi allegory", you would need to reference things like antisemitism, holocaust and totalitarianism. Scar never talks about wanting to exterminate the Jew allegory, which this movie does not have. He only cares about power, and when he gets that power he distorts the Circle of Life, because hyenas are the one animal who don't respect the Circle of Life. Circle of Life in itself is an allegory to how real nature works, and I think it's a good way for the story to address animals eating eachother even if they can all talk and seem to have a civilized society somewhat. This ironically also debunks the whole "Lion King ripped off Kimba" theory, because Kimba was all about trying to END animals eating each other and animals should learn to be more like the humans, but I am getting off-topic. Basically, Scar is just a bad person who wants power and takes advantage of an "oppressed" group to get that power and then when he gets that power, everything goes to shit.

Disney movies often don't have complicated themes, Lion King has so much raw mass appeal because it's easy to get into, it's child's first foray into Shakespeare, even if I think Journey to Melonia is a better adaptation of Shakespearean themes in an animated film if you ask me. Hell, why else do you think the shitty 2019 remake was popular, popular enough to spawn that stupid prequel which started this whole argument???

Speaking of, I think I've made my point so I am getting back to that. Shortly after saying that, I made my post arguing against Rick's point, however Rick made his argument that "Be Prepared" was enough to prove Scar was a nazi. I then lost my cool for a second, because it reminded me of Twitter users and YouTube video essayists who make brain rot arguments like this all the time. Rick then said "You're way too focused on the 'allegory' thing".

I then told him he was the one who said Scar was a nazi allegory the whole time, and if he didn't want to be called out for saying stupid shit, he shouldn't say stupid shit. it was at this point my friend who's a mod in the server interfered and told us to settle it in DM's.

I don't want to get into the specifics of what happened, but first thing I wrote was an extended argument, which was not as detailed as the one I gave above. I then admitted that it's not good to call people out on something so trivial, but I know when some subject is tackled with or without nuance.

Rick then proceeds to call me out for having anger issues, and accused me of not having nuance, claiming that I "blew up" on him, and then he proceeds to go and list off all the things that are wrong with his life, and then he said "Just because you have a bad attitude doesn't mean you have to take it out on me".

To say I was flabbergasted was an understatement, yes, I don't want to get into it but I often have issues with expressing myself because of my short temper, and if someone says something stupid, I have a tendency to overreact.

But he didn't address any of my points. He instead made it personal. Would he have done the same thing if he didn't know me and I was a stranger?

It feels like such an odd thing, I didn't invite Rick to a therapy session, I just wanted to tell Rick that he was wrong about Scar but Rick turned it into a huge personal issue. It was at this point I asked help from my friend, and my friend made a small group for us to talk which he monitored. At that point the conversation had fully derailed, but I told him that just because I may think something Rick says is stupid, doesn't mean I find him a lesser person. I cited an example where I had called out my friend who was monitoring the conversation and he agreed. Rick then admitted he overreacted and we made amends.

But I admit, it's been over a month since that incident but something about it rubs me the wrong way. I admit I was wrong to jump on the guy and I remember using the word "retarded" which is not a politically correct word by any means, but still, I care about semantics behind words, and I like Lion King. In social media, words lose meaning every single day, and those words are often used to make bad faith criticism and just completely delusional arguments about fictional works.

I admit this incident and another incident that also involves words being used in the wrong way led me to leaving that community as a whole, it was a cynical and depressing group to be part of and I.don't like being miserable. If I had stayed, incidents like this would have repeated until it would've ended on a really nasty bridge burning.

The truth is, Rick didn't need to make this personal but he did, and that's what upsets me. All I wanted was a nuanced discussion on the topic but I didn't get that. It's really discouraging and I presume Rick is one of these people who hang out in echo chambers where they never get disagreed with or never get called out on. And I don't think it's Rick's fault but rather Twitter's. A lot of people are afraid of being critiqued, a lot of people are afraid of being called out.

I believe that debates don't change people's minds, but they can at the very least lead to understanding other people. I would've loved to talk about villains who actually ARE nazi allegories like Dolf from Alfred J. Kwak or Gargoyle from Nadia and the Secret of Blue Water, and I would've loved to hear more detailed explanation why does Rick THINK Scar is a nazi allegory and if Be Prepared does matter more to Scar's character than anything he does outside of that scene.

But instead, I got yet another lecture on how I AM wrong and how I do things wrong. I am sick of people focusing on my issues when I call others out, and that's why I left that server. I am open to criticism but that criticism always amounted to "you talk about Twitter too much". Some people talk about things they despise and hate and want to be erased a lot, and Rick is also guilty of that because he has an obsessive hateboner with the current Warner Bros Discovery CEO David Zaslav, and I've also complained to him about how he keeps bringing Zaslav up in conversations that have nothing to do with him.

I am not going to talk with Rick about this topic any further because I know it will just turn into the same thing as before, and I am not going to bother my other friends with "hey I called this guy's opinion that cartoon lion is based on some of the worst people who ever lived stupid and he started yelling at me about how I have anger issues instead of talking about it". My friends have their own lives and in this drama-filled world of ours I don't think they need my drama thrown on them. That is why I wrote this blogpost. I don't want to talk about people behind their backs, this is not an EXPOSE on Rick by any means. I think Rick is a good person but he has his issues. Both of us are very flawed people, and it's neither of us's job to try and fix the other. I made this post because I wanted to get this out of my chest, and give this blog some use. I will never use this blog to talk about my thoughts on real world issues and hot topics, because my opinion doesn't change anything, but I will use it to talk about personal inconveniences. Nowadays, I am more careful about calling people out on stuff I disagree with, because people often have bad reactions to criticisms. It's probably better I take my anger out on webcomics, because webcomics won't come to life and accuse me of having anger issues. their authors will do that instead!

[colleenmurphy]

"I swear to God if I see you around my daughter again I'll have your balls. You understand me, boy?"

Flashing the oyster shucking knife at the impossibly pimply teenage Romeo, who not a month before had called her such vile names and pushed Sarah down a flight of stairs but not before he kicked her books away from her when she tried to get up. He was a Matsek through and through and Colleen added him to the 'hate on sight' list steadily growing to include almost the entire clan, save five that had moved away and made something of themselves. Going so far as to change the spelling if their last name to cut ties.

"Sarah...you ok?"

Studying her mother with wide blue green eyes Sarah burst into tears as Colleen pulled her close and stroked her long dark hair.

"He told me I'd better make sure I lock my doors otherwise...he'd.."

She didn't even have to hear her daughter finish her sentence, she'd remembered his body language as she'd found him backing her into a corner on their own front porch. He was still walking up the street Colleen noticed almost begging for her to come after him so he could make a spectacle. She wouldn't allow that, instead she'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"What's his first name?"

"Eugene..."

What an unfortunately fitting name for such a little creep. It was somewhere between the set of his jaw and the color of hair that Colleen first noticed a few things. It hadn't taken long or any deep digging detective work on her end to figure out that this little thug was Dave's progeny with the Matsek bitch that had tried to make her life a living hell when they were growing up. Jealousy had gotten the best of her from the get go in kindergarten until Kelly's Dad, Paweł had popped up missing after a few unpaid debts at the OTB parlor down the alley of the bar owned by Murphy, the flower and corner grocery owned by Starling and the butcher owned by Flannery.

His mother was one of Dave's best customers when it came to back room buying and various calls for 'extensions'. It sure as hell wasn't at Colleen's salon these days, she was a Bargain Mart bottle blonde for a cool $10 for 2. Sully was currently out on business, making a contact in Columbia and then making his way to Mexico to pick up a new strain of flower. The Sullivans had made a name quietly for themselves over the years thanks in part to her own Father's dealings with the Flannery family, her first marriage into it, that one wasn't even a year and then Frank Flannery had gone missing only to turn up in a New York harbor. Colleen was the one with the connections and the brains. Dave was just the figure head while she held the power.

"You sure you don't want me to just go in for you, Colly?"

Colleen shook her head and patted Jackie on the shoulder. She fought the urge to kiss him dead on the lips but she knew that would lead to other things. She needed a clear head.

"Nah, I got this, babe."

Only she and her best friend knew Sarah's true lineage was the result of Col's free spirited youth when she hitch hiked to an artists colony down south and met a slightly older man who was home from the war. He'd come from the city but was looking for something new, he'd probably end up down further south somewhere he'd mentioned. After they traveled for a few days and made it to the tiny town of Sloughbridge he left her quietly one evening just after sunset. She'd always remember that his eyes were the same color as the sky on a cloudless day. He was a pilot, a Treetop Flyer. Jimmy had been truly pissed off but more worried than anything else but upon discovering that Colleen was pregnant with his first grandchild he hurried to marry her to finally seal a business deal and to stop the small town he virtually owned from talking about his hippie new age daughter. The eldest Flannery boy, Frank , hadn't been the brightest bulb and had a bit of an anger issue until Colleen had taken things into her own hands. By then every piece of paperwork of signed, sealed and delivered and all the business i's were dotted and the t's crossed. Mary Colleen Murphy-Flannery was a very wealthy not to mention connected woman about town as well as abroad. She fell into Sullivan's lap due to another piece of family business, this time on her dearly departed mother Minnie's side. The Sullivan family owned the McGuire's a significant amount of money due to a loan to purchase their orchards and the town dairy, Col still received a check every now and again from a far flung Sullivan relative whose turn it was to make a payment. Money and material things never mattered to her, she was trying to raise Sarah to live simply, be aware and open to others.

'You're the very best thing that's ever happened to me...do you know that?'

She'd whispered nearly every night to her daughter since she'd come into the world, probably even before. It didn't matter that her child had no true father, this little girl was hers to raise, fiercely and unafraid of the world.

It took no time for Colleen to scale the lattice to the second story and slide the window open.

"Jesus Christ this woman's fucking insane...My mother never did anything like this for me."

Jackie said as he shook his head and lit a cigarette watching as the dark haired woman slipped inside nice and easy. She must have been a cat burglar in the her past life. They'd been hot and heavy for a minute a few years ago but that had tamed. Dave did some under handed things with a dancer a county over and Colleen had put a stop to everyone's fun, her own included and he understood.

Landing quietly on the carpet below the window Colleen found Eugene slumbering deeply. She knew Kelly was down at the Murphy's Tavern trying her damnedest to turn Dave's ear with a sob story. Col had to give Dave that, he was a stand up guy when it came to Sarah and Colleen's happiness. They hadn't wanted for anything material but as far as spending actual time with either of them he was always off on business or making a sale or moving a shipment. The carrier pigeon would be in this evening he'd assured her and he'd already given her an alibi, she was home going over the books. So now was the time to deal with the threat her daughter had been under.

A swift kick to the bed and he was awakened, dazed by a punch to the face and then his head shoved into a black sack. Moving quickly he tied his hands behind his back. Grabbing him tight she nudged him to the car.

"What the fuck....oh christ my mother never did this for me..."

Jacking muttered as he yanked open the backdoor to the Toronado. The silver flash in the moonlight let him know that Colleen was certainly taking after her parents. Jimmy was the level headed one whereas Minnie McGuire had been a wild one, god rest her soul.

"Is she seriously using Minnie's pistol for this?"

A solid thus sounded as the car rocked slightly. Dingus Matsek had smacked his massive squared forehead off the top of the car because Colleen hadn't corrected him. That stopped his babbling for his mother. She motioned for Jackie to move over because she was the one driving this one.

"God help us, kid what did you do to piss her off?"

The engine roared to life as the lights came up with the flick of a switch. Thundering guitars and bells filled the car as the drum beat thrummed.

I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives, Nobody's putting up a fight, I got my Bell, I'm gonna take you to Hell

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"

A squeaky scream muffled only slightly by the black sack over his face. Slipping on the safety she brought her arm back and cocked the noisy little shit right in the mouth with the butt of her gun.

"You're going to be taking a neat little trip far faaaar away my dear little bastard stepson."

"What..."

Jackie had now had his interest peaked. The way she took side streets worried him for a moment. Just how Colleen learned to drive was a mystery as Jimmy hadn't allowed her to do much.

"I went fucking missing for three months. I'm a quick learner. Just hang on and shut up and if you have to throw up roll the window down."

Was what she had said the one time he'd called her to pick him up after a night of drinking years ago. Whoever had taught her had instilled a need for careful speed and tight turns. She also drove on the defensive and always drove a stick.

"I know Dave's been cutting checks for years to pay your mother for your upkeep. He's not listed on your birth certificate but there's no doubt you're his. Still sneaking around with your mother too."

Thundering down the road they turned and Eugene went sliding along the leather with a shriek.

"What's happening?! That doesn't...my mom..."

"Is a lying whore who's the town doorknob and your Dad's a piece of shit too. I know kid. Now get out of my car."

Yanking him out by the hair she walked him along the tarmac where the strip looked completely dead.

"Who are you?!"

Yanking the bag off she let him face her and stare directly into her eyes.

"The mother of a young girl who you had no right to bully. You're nearly twenty and still a junior. She's a freshman and newly fifteen. But you can call me your nightmare."

"Mrs. Sullivan?"

"Right-o. Now, here comes your absolute worst nightmare."

"She-she doesn't have a Dad..."

"It wasn't an immaculate conception, I assure you."

Holding up a slim hand she shushed him. All three of them stood there listening closely as as thunderous road fell from the sky. In an instant a hulking plane appeared on the tarmac.

"There he is, right on time."

It was Jackie's turn to be amazed into a stupor

"Oh hell no..."

He muttered as he dropped his lit cigarette from his lips. That deep rose red and cream paint job gave it away as Treetop. His weed man for damn near close to sixteen years. How the hell had he met Colleen?

Maybe the world should take her more seriously.

He thought to himself as he watched the scene unfold.

The engines cut out as a hulking figure emerged from the cabin of the plane. To Eugene he looked big enough to blot out the very sun if there had been one. A shiver went up his spine as he fought to keep his composure. This woman was insane, her bodyguard was just standing there and now this hulking dude that knew how to fly a fucking plan looked like he wanted make Eugene swallow his own teeth. He never should have targeted Sarah Murphy. But he hadn't known, his mother pushed him to find fault with her when in reality there hadn't been anything wrong with her.

"You like Thailand, boy?"

Completely unsure of what to say his brain defaulted as this man held his gaze. Something about his awake the need to run.

"N-nnoo..."

The flush in his face deepened as he heard Mrs. Sullivan cackle upwards toward the moon. A deep chortle was heard from her two cronies. A warm rush something ran down his pants and into his shoes. Eugene David Matsek was nearly legal drinking age and he'd just managed to piss himself in front of absolute strangers.

"Get in the plane, piss pants."

"What...what about my mom?"

"She'll be joining you soon enough. So will Dave. Think of it as a fresh start. You can get a start on the hut."

With a wave the long dark haired woman gave him a cold little wave.

"Don't ever fuck with my daughter ever again."

Was her final warning before she kissed the pilot dead on the lips and gave him a wave.

"I'll meet you next week. Let me know how this goes..and if he pisses you off too badly send him out the door with the parachute."

[animelover20]

So I'm currently watching diamond is unbreakable aka part 4 if jjba and honestly I had no motivation because 1. Spoilers and 2. Didn't like the art style at all(how shocking)

But anyway I thought it would be horrible but I've watched 17 episodes so far and omg it's actually really good. First thoughts compared to the actual characters were crazy tho.

Like take joskue higashita for example.

Ngl I laughed my ass off when I saw his hair (dick move but ok) and then it grew on me. At first I thought he was a pretentious dick who couldn't handle people talking shit about his hair. But I think he's the reason why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because yes he's got some anger issues but he cares a lot about the people around him.

I had a similar situation with Rohan Kishibe

I ended up seeing the picture of Rohan when he had first met Koichi(the one where his creepy ass is looking out the door) and my mind instantly was like. Welp he's a creep...and yes I wasn't necessarily wrong but that's besides the point. Then I start resenting him because he's self centred(which is never my forte) but then in episode 17 we learn a little more about him. And god that episode made me cry but after everything in that episode you see him a bit differently at least I did towards the end. The funny thing is when the ghost girl(I forgot her name lol) said to Koichi and Rohan "I'm here if you need me, little Rohan, Mr Koichi" I heard it as "I'm here if you need me, little Koichi, Mr Rohan" so when Rohan comments on how she had nerve calling him little Rohan I was like "wait what?" Yeah she called him little but my ears got it mixed for some reason. I was balling my eyes out by that point so that's probably why I misheard it but anyway that episode changed how i felt about Rohan and now if I start randomly posting about him it's not my fault ok..👀

[madamtrashbat]

Is Johnny Depp a womanizing creep? Is Amber Heard innocent?

You know, I was very invested in their libel trial on Twitter but I don't know if I ever mentioned it here so good job, anon, you asked me an inflammatory question I actually have an answer for.

What I have to say in this is bound to upset somebody, because this is a very charged situation and I know many people have strong opinions on these two, but if you want my honesty here, what I think happened to Johnny and Amber is the same thing that happened to my partner, Sawyer, with their ex.

They went balls to the walls too quickly and it got ugly.

I don't think Johnny is sainted, given his history of anger issues and outbursts, but when every woman he's ever been romantic with previous to Amber came to his defense, I think that indicates at least a boundary he tended to keep in check with regards to his anger. I don't think Amber is the innocent victim, either, given what those around her have commented on her behavior and attitude.

What I think they did was mistake boundless passion and sexual chemistry for love and threw themselves into a relationship without giving any time to build a foundation. I think they brought out the absolute worst in each other. They maybe had wild sex and decided that was enough until it couldn't cover up the cracks anymore.

I have no idea who shot first here. I wasn't there, I don't know them, they're just celebrities to me. But I followed that trial closely and Johnny, to me, appeared perfectly willing to air out the bad things he had done, willing to admit the things he had done to Amber with ample evidence to explain as well what had been done back to him. Amber, at the trial, refused to drop the facade of blameless angel subjected to a terrorizing monster, even when she was caught in a lie more than once. That is, to me, at the very least, suspect. If she was telling the truth, she was not doing it very well.

At the end of the day, the only think I think with any certainty about them is that I think they turned each other into the worst versions of themselves without a lifeline. And it's a shame that it happened the way it did instead of them realizing they needed to walk away before it got worse.

[trench-rot]

3, 8, 12, 14 & 19 :3

Ahhh thank you Emily! Sorry this took longer, I've been chipping at this through the week when I've had time, hooray for weekend! I also couldn't pick and did everyone so apologies if you were only looking for one specific pairing, alas-

3. Jealousy issues?

chloe x jacob - Ehehehehehe... yeah. They both have trusting and more confident moments, but they come later on in the relationship. Immature rage cases both of them in the beginning. For being such strong minded individuals they sure are codependent, and it is not a cute look.

theo x john -Theo isn't the Jealous type. John however... is an absolute dramatic insecure pissbaby. Hurts his own feelings more than thrice.

pie x sharky -Pie isn't easily bothered, Sharky isn't either, more whiny about it than actually jealous.

8. Have an AU thought?

chloe x jacob - I have butcher shop thoughts now and again, but I've never run with it.

theo john - Boy oh boy oh boy oh BOY. Ehem. So I have a wing AU for my angel baby boys bouncing around my cranial. Very biblical. Very Lucifer/Michael coded. Very angsty. Physically restraining myself from only painting Theo and John as angels over classical pieces repeatedly over and over and over. -There are also fae John/human Theo thoughts.. the pushiness/anger to get people to say yes could so easily be translated into name grabbing. He would also be SO pretty jdhfgkzjyg

pie sharky - They don't have any extras *yet* but I feel like there will be more than a few overtime.

12. How Are there communication skills?

chloe x jacob - Being a creep who psychoanalyzes everything its easy for Jacob to read her moods often before she does, and act accordingly. Chloe is fucking exhausted and the ease of not having to use her brain to full capacity is an addictive out. That goes to say that they communicate very poorly. Jacob is in denial of most of his feelings as it is, while Chloe is a disassociation queen and lets things bottle up until everything bursts out in one go.

theo x john - Theo is excellent in communication. He's always one to consider others feelings and still say his bit, the "hey I just need to rant for a second" guy. John does communicate his emotions decently, but his emotion chart is often off kilter in high emotion circumstances. This is.. less than effective when it comes to communicating how he actually feels. It can take a few drafts for him to get to the right place.

pie x sharky - Pie's bio mom was a therapist. This means shes clinically good at communicating even if there are times she doesn't have the energy. Burning out often leads her to shutdown and talking can be too much in those moments. She can handle Sharky's more immature and direct ways of communicating either way, and the two of them are basically mind melded. Sharky is very outspoken about his feelings just in a way that's not always the most delicate.

14. How did they first meet?

chloe x jacob - Chloe and Jacob's very first encounter is one of my favorites. Jacob found her camp, with Chloe in her sleeping bag on the forest floor. His goal to capture her, he mounted her sleeping form much like you would attempt to capture an alligator. Huge commotion, she bit his hand, he knocked her out with a stick. Wasn't a whole lot she could do, arms pinned to her sides with his legs and all. I REALLY love the imagery for this that lives in my head and hope to one day be able to comm it and poster print it.

theo x john - John came up to the whitetails to check on some shipments and pick up some new Chosen to bring into the valley. They never spoke, but lots of 'sneaky' staring. John wanted to bring Theo, which Jacob shut down immediately. He wasn't going to part with his best soldier and closest thing to a friend he's had in years. The pining never stops though, and it was instant obsession for John.

pie x sharky - Pie came to Hope County as a pre-teen. Before then she grew up spending summers with her uncle, helping to run errands and keep up on the farm. Pie would run into Sharky sneaking around, and later they were in the same class before Sharky dropped out.

19. How are they at parties or gatherings?

chloe x jacob - Chloe is either intoxicated and the biggest flirt, or standing in the corner not talking to anyone at all. Party? Jacob is *outside* the building. - With gatherings when she's comfortable Chloe is very much the unhinged goblin child of the group. It takes quite a bond to pull this side out of her though, it's not common she's comfortable enough. Jacob 'capt stick in the mud' is the entity haunting the group, unless there's a rare occasions he's in a good mood with only Theo and sometimes Chloe too. He has standards to uphold.

theo x john - Theo is always a joy at gathering. Social enough, outgoing and supportive of his comrades. Chaperone with a violence tolerance, he'll let a fight play out if he thinks it'll be interesting. He's there to stitch up any of his idiots if they need it. John is a bit of an overbearing drunk, very clingy. If hes not comfortable getting wasted with the people there he's not going. - Theo and John are both professionals in gathering/meeting situations. Theo is used to holding meetings, trainings and debriefs with his men. Jacob is almost never without him, and Theo is a guest at holidays/family meetings. John having experience from his profession as a lawyer can be as put together as he needs to be, easily fooling a majority into thinking he has it all together.

pie x sharky - LIFE of the party- both of them. Pie maybe a bit safer than Sharky, but together they can lift almost anyone's spirits. They now have a routine of coming to party, and then leaving exactly 2hrs in to go play by themselves. Sharky's 'social battery' holds a much better charge than Pie's. - In gatherings, neither of them are afraid to speak their mind confidently and engage in a group setting. Pie is always one to quietly observe first, analyzing everyone in the room. Shaky is just here to have a good time, comparatively.

[the-far-bright-center]

#like the things is that the fact Anakin could love so deeply was one of his virtues!#not just love but his anger at injustice! I love thinking about Anakin swearing he'd free the slaves#and Anakin's love and his anger are traits Luke AND Leia both share! they're foundational to who they are!#the difference is both of them had the tools and environment to process and use those emotions properly#the Jedi were unequipped to deal with someone motivated by love and anger. Palpatine was also grooming Anakin and it's insane#that anyone would give some old man unsupervised access to a child in their care but maybe that's just more proof#of how fucked up the Senate is that that behaviour can go unremarked#but my point is that love and anger are both considered virtues in the Original Trilogy#I also wonder if maybe part of it is because most people focus on love as Anakin's love for Padme which is romantic?#like people get weirdly dismissive about the power of romantic love on tumblr sometimes#but while Padme is certainly the major one because she's the one he can express love freely with and have it reciprocated#Anakin also loved Obi-wan but they can only say it when fighting to the death#hell Anakin fucking adored his mother and he can only see her on her deathbed#the issue isn't that Anakin loves (or gets angry). it's that he's has an upbringing and is in an environment and has experiences#that make it incredibly difficult to love healthily#like the point is that Jedi can certainly feel love but you get the sense they're not supposed to express it towards each other#ANY kind of love. not just romantic#compassion yes. respect yes. but not love#but love is what keeps us grounded where compassion fails to I think#it's messy and not always right but it's very human and necessary where larger systems and ideals fail#you can't just remove fallible but powerful personal relationships from how society functions#not to mention if Anakin wasn't motivated by love... do you think that'd stop Sidious? I'm sorry but ideology can be just as#easily manipulated as love or anger#anyway this is a story with a Cosmically Correct Answer and the answer is Love#the Jedi were not evil. the Jedi were overall good. what happened to them was evil. but they were still wrong#the narrative SAYS THEY WERE WRONG#like the prequels are literally a tragedy the Jedi can be both wrong and have failed and still be good people#who didn't deserve what happened to them#this is a space fairy tale. a greek tragedy combined with the hero's journey. it doesn't have to make real world sense (via @in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene)

Great tags! And yes, it’s important to note that it wasn't Love (romantic, platonic, or otherwise) that caused Anakin to fall, but rather his Fear of Loss. That oft-quoted line 'beware your heart' is not saying beware of loving people, it's saying beware of 'the dragon of that dead star', aka the fear and the doubt that creeps into Anakin's heart and mind, and which Sidious exploits. And yes, Anakin's ability to love deeply (and to feel righteous anger through that love!) is his STRENGTH. In another version of events, the Jedi would have realised that the fact their Chosen One had been born a slave and had experienced injustice personally actually made him the ideal person to free the galaxy from its chains. The fact that Anakin feels so deeply means he empathises with the plight of the downtrodden peoples of the galaxy in a way that the remote Jedi high in their ivory tower (who have removed personal connections from their lives) simply cannot. We're supposed to see that the Jedi failed to appreciate this aspect of him, because they didn't understand the true meaning of the Chosen One prophecy or HOW it had to be fulfilled (aka through an act of self-sacrifice performed out of love, the only way to break the cycle of retaliatory violence). They thought Anakin needed to be a 'perfect' Jedi in the Old Order's definition of one, when what Anakin needed was simply to be permitted to LOVE and BE LOVED, and to have the unconditional love of his family. Love and family are two things clearly forbidden to the Prequels-era Jedi, and yet these are what saves the galaxy.

I think there’s something rather strange going on with all the folks who insist that the Jedi Order in the PT was right and didn’t forbid love and Anakin should just have followed their teachings when the whole point of the prequels is that they are prequels. They come before the OT, and the OT proves the Jedi wrong. They literally do not make sense if they don’t do that.

Luke, in the original trilogy, gains his ultimate triumph, his ultimate victory, because he loved in defiance of the teachings of the old Order. He quite literally had the ghosts of the past telling him, explicitly and without ambiguity, that he has to put his love for his father aside and kill him, as is the duty of a Jedi. Luke has the weight of millennia of teachings weighing down on his shoulders, telling him they knew and know better than a young, inexperienced man barely out of his teenager years. That he should follow their teachings or be destroyed. That is an immense weight to carry, and many people would and explicitly have given in to it in-universe. What are your feelings and ideals in the face of such immense legacy, after all?

But Luke doesn’t give in.

He doesn’t bend.

He says “I may be young, and I may be new, but I believe to my heart and soul that love matters more than this legacy. Matters more than your teachings.” And he says this to the ghosts of his mentors. That is such a powerful moment and one I can’t believe George Lucas didn’t create it deliberately for even a second. This young man, being told he has to kill or die trying for a system that is dead or dying itself, that couldn’t survive itself, and refusing to do so. He is the living refusing to continue the violence of a dead generation. He is the young man refusing the draft into a war the old generation started, saying “peace and love matters more than you being right.” He is the embodiment of breaking the cycle.

And the movies vindicate him.

The main villain vindicates him with his last dying breath.

Darth Vader, dying, says “You were right.” and admits he and his were wrong. The main antagonist, Luke’s nemesis, in the face of his son’s immense, defiant love, gives way and does the impossible: he comes back to the light and dies a Jedi. The very thing the old Order says was impossible.

They were wrong. They have to be. The narrative demands it, the movies don’t make sense without it.

The solution was never to continue the cycle of the old Order, or Luke would have failed there, would have failed when he said “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” And claimed that defiant, deviant, condemned definition of being a Jedi over the one presented to him by the Grandmaster of the old Order. If the old Order was right, Luke would have to be wrong. Be wrong about love, be wrong about laying down the sword, be wrong about refusing to fight. He would have to be wrong.

But the old Order is dead, explicitly killed by a monster, in some part, of their own making. It’s members only existing as bones in the ground or ghosts speaking from beyond the grave. They did not deserve it, it should not have been inflicted on them, but the narrative is clear on this: “The old way is dead, and was dying for a long time before that. Long live the new.”

Luke is that new. Luke is the breaking of the cycle, the reforging of swords into ploughs, the extended hand. Luke says “I don’t care how much I was hurt, I refuse to hurt you back, and you don’t need to hurt me either.”

“We can end this together and choose love instead.”

And Darth Vader, killer of the Jedi, End of the Order, lays down his arms as well, and reaches back as Anakin, saying “You were right.”

It wasn’t Obi-Wan, Yoda, Mace, Qui-Gon, or even Ahsoka who achieved the ultimate victory in the end, following the tenants of the old Order. It was Luke. Young, inexperienced Luke, who saw that the age of legacy handed to him was only history, that the sword handed to him as his life was only a tool, and that the decrees of the dead were only advice. And he took it all, said “thank you for your experience, but I’ve got it from here,” and laid it all down to instead extend an open hand towards his enemy.

And his victory, his ultimate triumph, his vindication, was that he was proven right when his enemy reached back and became just another person. Just another person, just like him.

The Jedi did not deserve what happened to them, and they did not deserve to die. But the story is clear on this: the Jedi of old were wrong, and the Jedi of new, the Last Jedi, was right. No sword or death will ever end the rule of the sword or end the bloodshed. But love?

Love can ignite the stars.

[ravynfyre]

when the pain gets bad in the middle of the night after i have way overdone it during the day before.... when the hours are long and soaked with a miasma of suffering... when the darkness creeps in like cold fingers walking up my spine... i find myself looking back on my life. *and* i find myself looking at where i am now.

back when i was a full time firefighter, i was pretty... conservative. some of it was seeing how unjust the world was, and wrongly focusing my irritation and anger not on the people who were *making* the world this way, but the people who were forced to rely on the services i provided *because* the world wasd this way. most of it, though, was pure survival instinct, as i was smack dab in the middle of "white man job hell", and for all the crap about "folks in blue collar jobs tending to be democrats", when you shove that many older white men together in the breadbasket of america, they tend to become an echo chamber of "i paid my dues, it's not fair that other people don't have to," and "i have to work, so why shouldn't someone else have to?" it was also pure laziness. i didn't *bother* to look beyond the curtain to see the way the haves were stacking against the have-nots, or even how the illnesses and injuries i was treating adversely affect the *whole* person, and not just the person *in that moment*.

i hadn't been injured yet. i didn't *want* to understand chronic pain or chronic illness, when it was just *easier* to say, "oh, they're just lazy."

i had a lot of really shitty, ignorant, hateful, and quite frankly, self-centered, selfish opinions. it wasn't an issue for me, therefor the issue didn't exist. besides, i had my *own* issues to deal with, like coworkers literally trying to get me killed on more than one occasion, just because i didn't happen to have a cock and balls and *dared* to beard them in their sacred lairs.those were *real* problems, yo. lazy ass sickle cell boy having to get out of his girlfriend's *running car* to crawl into the ambulance we waited at his apartment for when she could have much more easily just driven him to the fucking hospital was just him being fucking lazy and taking advantage of the system that would see *me* have to use *my tax dollars* to cover his extremely expensive taxi to the er where he could get his fix. (feel free to crucify me for that. that was my actual thought process then. it isn't now, but it was then, and i feel like shit for that now... but feeling like shit now doesn't excuse the ignorance of then)

i envy the people who didn't need to actually experience a thing before finding their empathy about a thing. i wish that i could have been one of them. sadly, though, i have met people who have experienced a thing, and *still* don't think that what *they* went through is universal. that *they* get a pass for their chronic pain, or their mental health, but that other people - mostly lower economic status or different color/nationality/creed/etc - do *not*, as "those folks are just lazy/selfish/greedy/etc." so at least i am not one of them.

so on those dark nights, i find myself wondering... what would my parents make of where i am now? i know that my sister is proud of who i have become - a radicalized liberal snowflake. but what about my mom, who told me for years that *if* i worked outside of the home, the only *acceptable* jobs for me, as a "girl", were secretary, nurse, or teacher. or my father, who was a sheriff's deputy and who influenced my wish to go into emergency services in the first place.

but then i remember that mom was an abusive alcoholic who beat my sister and me -more my sis than me, because i wasn's "broken" b being deaf like sis was, and i was the leash that trapped dad into marrying her since sis's dad ran off before sis was a year old... and that dad kicked me out of the house with nowhere to go (thank you for scooping me up, sis) when i was 21, because that bitch he married that he'd already had an affair with once before while mom was still alive hated me, even though she had moved out of the house weeks before and never did move back in, making *him* move to join *her* eventually.

and then i wonder... why the fuck do i care what shitty people would think of me now? i already have shitty people who think i've become "less fun and less funny" since i "became woke." i already have people i used to respect and love like family who genuinely and openly wish that i, and "people like me would just die already", and leave the country to "good people like them".

and i'm just fucking happy that i'm NOT "good people like them" anymore.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I saw you are answering asks about the x files, so here we go. what are your thoughts on mulder's behavior in milagro? Thank you =)

oh boy. listen I have to go on record right now and say that I actually H A T E D Milagro. easily top 5 least favorite episodes (along with both Dreamlands tbh). so I didn't actually... pay as much attention as maybe I should have to it, just because of how icky I personally found it?? idk if i have much of value to say shdjdnsksks

idk it's another Scully-centric episode, which i always love, and right off the bat there's a very open level of concern about Padgett? like Scully gets Bad Vibes from him from the very beginning (as she should; my deep deep dislike isn't even based in my bias towards MSR. Ed Jerse was a fairly decent dude who should have gotten therapy instead of a tattoo. Padgett is the kind of guy who makes me internally panic in Walmart) and she brings it up to Mulder. idk that's one of the things I DO like about the episode, that they're at a point in their relationship where Scully is willing to just. mention his creepy neighbor eyeballing her without that "I don't want you to feel like you need to protect me" thing.

idk I wonder if she didn't slightly *want* him to be protective?? bc s6 is a weird balance of them acting extremely comfortable around each other and often coming across as very Married(TM) and also... mutual pining. I don't tend to pick up on *as much* tension throughout the season as I've seen a lot of people talk about, but it's still definitely there.

as for Mulder's responses to the Padgett situation?? I think he's mainly just really confused tbh? confused and concerned, like he's not sure what's *actually* going on, but like. the thing is that Mulder can be really dense when it comes to stuff, especially where it comes to Scully at times, but he's not stupid. he drinks respect women juice for breakfast and he Knows when other dudes... don't. and Padgett does Not. he's one of those guys who only sees women as something to objectify, which is why he's such an unsettling MotW — worse even than Pfaster imo, because whole Pfaster is scary, he's also an object lesson (at least in Irresistible; I'm still on my first watchthrough and I haven't gotten to Orison yet). Padgett is such a REAL kind of MotW, like I said — he absolutely terrifies me, as a young woman.

Mulder gets kinda bristly about Padgett's... I can't call it anything other than self-insert RPF honestly and I hate that so much shsksnsksk but like... Mulder comes off as really prickly about it and a little distant from Scully not because he thinks any of it is true, but because he recognizes the inherent threat of what Padgett has been doing. not only has this random creepo been stalking her for TWO YEARS, he's also writing this kind of stuff about her?? the fact that Mulder reacts like he does says that he recognizes the underlying threat, even if he doesn't actually... express that super well?

he does come off as a bit possessive, I think, but not necessarily in a jealous way? it's more in a protective way in my opinion. I'm still not sure how to read either his or Scully's reaction to "Agent Scully is already in love," because like... s6 imo makes it very clear that they are very in love. and I think Padgett says that to try and mess with their heads a bit, but if he does know anything then he knows goshdang well that she's not in love with HIM.

idk what Mulder actually believes about Padgett, but I don't think he believes half the things the guy says or writes. idk my personal reading is that Mulder's possessiveness is really just him being aware that this guy is a massive creep and probably (provenly) a threat to Scully, and he does NOT like that. maybe there's a bit of jealousy on some level??? idk??? but he's definitely not pleased with this at all and he wants to keep Scully close throughout it.

basically the only redeeming factor in my mind is the hug at the end, even if it's under less than ideal circumstances. Mulder's face as Scully breaks down and clings to him, it's like... he didn't protect her well enough and the entire case with Padgett has destabilized him well enough that maybe he starts to doubt parts of their relationship?? like I said, he doesn't believe most of what Padgett wrote. but there's enough doubt seeded in him throughout the episode that it's like he's scared he doesn't *really* have Scully, and he kinda compensates with the abrasive, kinda possessive attitude he has for a lot of the episode.

'course, I've only watched the episode once and like I said, it was icky enough to me that I only halfway payed attention to it, so I could be reading this totally wrong 😅 all this is just based on what I do remember, cos I refuse to go back and rewatch it even for the sake of meta.