#debates or harassment because for some reason I can’t look away from my phone or block people.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t know if I’m terminally online (I haven’t gotten out much all winter tbh) or if I just get stressed about online “debates”, but whoever said that “phones never appear in our dreams” is wrong. I woke up twice thinking someone replied to a comment I made yesterday with something weird, only to realize that I had not actually grabbed my phone off my nightstand, checked it, and then fallen asleep again

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 13

First

Previous

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim was in the middle of a particularly boring meeting when a tiny buzz in his pocket alerted him that Marinette had left the house.

He blinked a little and, after mumbling a quick apology, pulled out his phone to silence it.

He couldn’t tell where she was going right then, it was too early to tell, but he noted absently that she was walking a little faster than normal. He shook his head to himself and resolved to check again once the meeting was over.

But he didn’t have to!

His secretary rushed in just as his last business partner left. She looked frazzled. “I tried to keep them out but they insisted and --!”

“Who? What? Janet, what’s wrong --?”

His attention was quickly pulled away from her, though, because Marinette was stumbling through the threshold.

He rushed forward to catch her on instinct, slipping his arms around her tightly. “Bean?”

She pulled her face out of his chest and smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh… hi, darling. Hate to disturb you during work, but...”

Tim frowned, concerned. He didn’t think she was clumsy (and he would have noticed by now if she was) and, now that he was looking, she looked a little pale. Was she sick? Did she even get sick?

And then he noticed someone standing in the doorway she had stumbled through -- no, she had been pushed through it, he thought as he took in the blond’s cold expression. Tim’s frown deepened and his grip tightened on his girlfriend.

Then, the blond sighed. “I’m Adrien, her friend from Paris. Don’t know if she’s told you about me, though.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed just a little. “Janet, it’s my lunchtime, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, looking between the three of them with barely concealed interest.

“Great. Lock the door behind yourself, please.”

Janet seemed a little put out but nodded and went to do what he asked without complaint. He made a mental note to give the poor girl a raise.

He waited until he heard the familiar click of the lock before turning his gaze back onto Adrien. The blond’s scowl had deepened. Tim bit his lip anxiously, considering what deescalation method would be best, but he didn’t know enough yet. He decided to just wait a little longer before doing anything. Marinette was safe in his arms and Adrien was still a little away so there wasn’t any immediate danger as far as he was aware.

“So, you do know his schedule, then?” Adrien asked.

Marinette wouldn’t quite look at the man. “We live in the same house.”

“Did you know before you were living in the same house?” He pressed.

She didn’t answer.

Adrien scoffed a little, shaking his head. “Of course. I knew I should have kept you in Paris where I could see you.”

Well, that’s a little controlling, a tiny part of Tim piped up. He would have said it aloud, too, but there was something bugging him about the blond. He couldn’t place it, but he was pretty sure he recognized him from somewhere...

It clicked and he took a half-step back with Marinette still silent in his arms. “Agreste, right?”

The blond winced. “Dupain-Cheng now,” Adrien said carefully. “In everything but name, at least, I’m still waiting to see if I can get a name change.”

Tim glanced down at Marinette for confirmation and she quirked her lips upward, which was bat for ‘yes’.

He relaxed just a little and let her go now that he knew it was safe. Okay. So, this was just her friend -- no, her brother -- and apparently he was annoyed about something. Their relationship, maybe, since he had brought her to Tim’s work.

… oh, shit, maybe this was Chat Noir. Tim’s eyes flicked down to where the ring usually was in pictures and, yep, that was the same ring but in white. That explained how he’d gotten there quickly despite the fact that he had to be on the no-fly list with a father like that.

But his anger seemed focused on Marinette, which was odd. Tim had figured it would be pretty even.

Tim cracked a grin. “Nice to meet you. You could have just called, though.”

Adrien looked a little sheepish, now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What I need to tell you isn’t really the kind of thing you can tell someone over the phone.”

“I meant a call for an appointment. You’re my girlfriend’s brother, I obviously would have wanted to meet you in person.”

He snickered. “You’d be the first. Most people don’t want to meet the family for a good long while.”

Tim shrugged. “I would have liked to know when you’d appear. Easier to prepare that way.”

“I see.”

There was a beat as the two men sized each other up before Adrien sighed and leaned back against the door. “I guess it’s easier to show you than explain it to you.”

Tim watched with interest as Adrien pulled an object from his ear and tossed it over. He caught it easily and turned the object in his fingers. It was like his comm but it was red with black polka-dots.

Oh. He knew what this was.

He handed it over to Marinette without even bothering to listen (Who wants to hear their own voice? No one. Ew.).

“Yeah, she listens in on all of my conversations, I know.”

Marinette and Adrien both froze up, then turned their gazes on him in shock. Tim might have laughed if Adrien’s expression didn’t morph into a horrified look.

“You… you know I planted bugs on you?” Asked Marinette tentatively.

“I’ve known since day one -- I think. Or, at least, near day one,” said Tim with a shrug. He pointed over at the flower on his desk, the bug hidden in the petals. “I don’t mind, though, that’s just part of being a vigilante, in my opinion.”

“You’re a --? Nevermind, that’s not the point here.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s not. She does this to all her crushes.”

“I do it to anyone I care about.”

Adrien seemed to think he was insane.

Marinette, however, was nodding vigorously. “See?! I told you! It’s a thing!”

“It’s a thing,” agreed Tim. “Everyone in my family does it, too, though we tend to prefer trackers and following people to auditory bugs…”

“What the heck?” Muttered Adrien.

Tim continued on despite this: “Even Duke does it sometimes, and he’s the closest thing we have to sane, so it’s probably okay.”

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at nothing for a while, clearly thinking hard about how to approach this. Tikki floated out of Marinette’s purse to go over and pet his hair in an attempt at comfort. It wasn’t working, but at least someone tried. Eventually, he pulled out his phone.

“Stalking: the act or crime of willfully and repeatedly following or harassing another person in circumstances that would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death especially because of express or implied threats.”

“... I haven’t followed or harassed him,” said Marinette.

“And I’m trying to prevent injury or death. Have you met Marinette? Leave her alone for too long and she will find a new way to get herself killed.”

Marinette huffed. “Like you’re any different. I can already count at least three major villains that you regularly piss off and I’ve only lived here a few months.”

“One of the first things you said to any of us was that you had broken your leg but it was fine. I have reason to be concerned.”

Adrien groaned. “We’re getting off topic here, guys. The point is that this is the textbook definition of stalking --.”

“But neither of us feel even a little bit uncomfortable about it,” Marinette argued.

“That would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death. Clearly, neither of you are reasonable.”

Tim shook his head. “That’s not really what the reasonable person clause is for. It’s for people that are trying to get money over nothing.”

“It still applies!”

Tikki shook her head. “Adrien, they’re not going to get it.”

“But they need to.”

“We’re still here, y’know,” said Tim. Marinette waved her arms in the air to see if they had somehow gone invisible.

“They don’t want to,” Tikki explained gently, ignoring them.

Alright, they were going around in circles it seemed and Adrien and Tikki weren’t responding well to their current arguments… so, new arguments were needed. A short recess was called so the two teams could discuss their rebuttals in opposite corners of the room. When had this turned into a debate? Who knows.

They decided to go after morality first (it seemed like the best bet since they were all vigilantes): “Bean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yep. You?”

“Of course. Happier than I was when I was single, that’s for sure.”

Marinette blushed a little and laced her fingers with his. “Great. Me too. Now, Adrien, don’t you want us to be happy?”

Adrien scoffed. “Okay, no, you don’t get to do that. I obviously want you to be happy but I don’t want you to be in an unhealthy relationship. Because that’s what this is: unhealthy.”

“Unusual doesn’t necessarily mean unhealthy,” said Marinette with a frown.

“No, it doesn’t, but… listening in on his private conversations? Following and tracking her? Don’t you think that maybe you should be setting more firm boundaries with each other?”

“... nah,” said Tim.

“How about this: if he crosses a line I’ll tell him.”

“You don’t have lines and that’s the problem!”

Tim shook his head. “Adrien, I can tell you’re trying to help but, really, it’s fine.”

… fine. Time for their last real argument.

“Would you prefer we ‘stalk’ some random civilian?” Asked Tim. “Or you? Don’t you think it’s best we’re together rather than with some person who wouldn’t be able to deal with ‘stalkers’?”

“Sure, but it would be better if you worked on yourselves before getting into relationships,” said Tikki with a sigh.

Marinette groaned. “Gods, this is never going to work. It’s a love language, Adrien, why can’t you just understand that?”

“Love?!” Tim and Adrien said in unison, though the expressions on their faces couldn’t be more different.

“You love me?” Asked Tim.

Marinette’s face flared red. “I -- uh -- um --... yeah…?”

Holy shit, he's won at life.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly.

“It’s only been a few months, what the heck?” Adrien whisper-yelled. They ignored him.

Marinette pulled him down by the front of his shirt for a short kiss. Then, she split into a grin. “I said it first.”

“Not really, I did,” said Tim, smiling fondly.

“No no no I did. I have two witnesses to testify. You said ‘too’, I win.”

“Hm. Nope.”

“You can’t just --!” She huffed. “Stop smiling like that, it's hard to argue with you.”

He only smiled wider. She pouted until he pecked her lips.

Adrien dropped into one of the business chairs and hung his head.

“... I think I made it worse, somehow.”

Tikki patted his hair again.

~

Adrien ended up accepting them, albeit a little reluctantly. Marinette and Tim were right, after all: it was better that they ‘stalked’ each other rather than some random person who could/would take it worse.

Now, apparently, it was time for the shovel talk.

“Her parents are huge softies so this falls to me. You’d better not hurt her. She may be an idiot and a stalker --”

“Hey!”

“-- but she is still my sister.”

Tim gave a tiny smile. “Yeah, I get it. You’ll kill me if I hurt her and, since you have the power of destruction, there won’t be any way to bring me back.”

“Oh, not quite. I’m going to ‘randomly misplace my ring’ and whatever happens while my ring is ‘missing’ is up to whoever happens to find it. You’d better hope that whatever you did was small enough that Mari would be merciful.”

Tim swallowed thickly. “Ah. I see.”

Adrien smiled a smile worthy of the model that he was and clapped Tim on the back. “Welcome to the family!”

“Yeah… yay…”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you done threatening my boyfriend?”

“No. If she --.” Adrien cut himself off with a laugh at the glare she sent him. “Kidding, kidding. Do you want some of Pere’s food.”

“Obviously. Tim, do you want some?”

Tim hesitated. Marinette tried not to laugh at how carefully he considered the question, as if he thought it was some kind of test and not two people trying to make up for taking up his lunch period.

“... sure?”

“Cool. Macaroons?”

Marinette scowled. “If you get us passionfruit macaroons I swear to the kwamis --.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll implement a systematic takedown of both me and everything I love, I get it. I’ll grab the tea ones you like.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “You have contingencies for your friends? What’s mine?”

“... you do realize you have no powers, right?”

“Can’t believe even my own girlfriend underestimates me --.”

“I could drop an elephant on you and call it a day if I really felt like it.”

Tim paled. “I regret asking.”

~

Tim was sick the next day. That was kind of on him for forgetting that America has weirdly intense food safety standards, which meant food from other countries would likely mess him up. Also, he had no spleen. Wild that he had forgotten that but, nonetheless, there he was.

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. How was it possible to feel cold and hot at the same time?

He heard the quiet creak of the floorboards and carefully opened one eye.

Marinette stood at the end of the bed, frown on her face, glass of water and a bowl of soup in each of her hands.

He reached a shaky hand for her and she handed him the water. He grumbled a little but his mouth was pretty dry, so he took it.

Once she was satisfied with his water-drinking, she took a seat beside him with the soup. When he made no move to eat it she rolled her eyes and set it aside temporarily in favor of pulling him on top of her. He smiled and rested his head on her stomach.

“You’re cute when you’re sick, maybe Adrien should bring over Pere’s food more often.”

He frowned. “But... work.”

“Don’t give me more reasons to do it,” she teased lightly.

When he pouted she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He stopped her with a hand.

“I’m sick.”

“And I’m a meta with an enhanced immune system that wants to kiss her dumbass boyfriend.”

He huffed a little but he didn’t try to stop her when she tried to kiss him a second time. He smiled and buried his face in her stomach, looping his arms around her like she was a pillow.

“How’d you know I was sick?” He asked after a few moments.

She snickered. “Well, I woke up and you were really warm instead of cold.”

“I’m cold?” Tim asked and, despite knowing that it was just a fact, he felt extremely insulted. Damian’s insults had nothing on the fact that his skin was, apparently, cold.

She smiled a little and pet his hair despite the fact that it was probably pretty gross at the moment. “It’s fine. I’m usually pretty warm so it balances out.”

“Awwwww, we reach thermodynamic equilibrium together,” he joked quietly. He let himself sink into her, closing his eyes.

She gave a tiny laugh. “Wow. Romance.”

He smiled. “It is.”

“Hm.” She pet his hair for a few moments longer before pulling them away. “Right, c’mon, get up. I made Alfred teach me to make your favorite kind of soup.”

He blinked an eye open. “Alfred? He knows?”

“Alfred knows everything, I think,” Marinette half-joked. She handed him the bowl and he sat up to eat some. “But I’m pretty sure everyone else at least suspects it, too. I followed all of you bats on Twitter, after all, and I only know a few of you out of costume.”

He nodded his understanding. “So all the secrets are out.”

“Yep. Now I don’t have to worry about accidentally calling people the wrong names when we’re all just hanging out. Still don’t know how you keep it all straight.”

“Nicknames, mostly. Less likely to slip up. Also Dick’s name works for both.”

Her lips twitched. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s why he uses the name Dick.”

“He never answered, y’know, when I said he had a degradation kink. You might be onto something,” he joked.

She grinned now. “I’m always right.”

“Hm. Sure.”

“Glad you agree. Now eat your soup.”

His grin dropped into a pout. “But my stomach hurts.”

“You’re sick, you need your energy to heal. Eat.”

He groaned but reluctantly took the soup when she pushed it into his hands.

~

She glanced over at the kid that they had taken in. They liked to stick around while Marinette made the food and, if possible, make it herself. She was pretty sure she was checking to make sure they didn’t drug her but Marinette didn’t mind. If it made the kid feel safer then she didn’t see why she wouldn’t allow it.

Now, the kid was mumbling curses in Russian.

She tipped her head to the side. She could chide her about her language but, considering the fact that it was in a language that she couldn’t conceivably understand, she let it go in favor of asking: “What’s wrong?”

“… I can still smell jalapeño on my fingers but my eye itches.”

“Oh.” Marinette handed her a towel. “Alright, Rordan, rub your eye with the side your hand hasn’t touched.”

Rordan wasn’t their actual name, obviously. It was actually Robin (it wasn’t an uncommon name in Gotham or anything, but she and Tim had both had to fight back their amused grins when they had… magically figured it out through completely legal means).

“Yeah, obviously, I’m not stupid.”

She grinned. “I can never be too sure anymore. I’ve cooked with rich kids before and you would be stunned at how little self-preservation instincts they have.”

The kid rolled her eyes. “Can’t be that stupid.”

Tim chose that moment to get off work. He stepped through the door, blinked at the second person in his house, then split into a grin.

“Hey, R...Ronda?” He greeted.

Robin smiled. “Still no.”

“Darn, maybe next time,” he said as if he wasn’t getting it wrong on purpose. He set his scarf on the coat rack and then walked over. “What’s for dinner?”

“For you? A microwaved meal that I’m going to try and pass off as my own cooking.”

Tim huffed. “Bean, come on, it was one time --.”

“And that ‘one time’ is enough to never let you in the kitchen again. C’mon, darling, three steps back.”

Tim groaned but stepped back until he was sitting on the kitchen island.

Robin turned off the burner. “Fajitas are done.”

He pouted playfully. “Can’t believe the kid is allowed to cook and I’m not. I’m an adult!”

“A hazard, that’s what you are,” Marinette teased, smiling. She let Robin set half of the food in her tupperware. “Want to eat with us this time?”

“No thanks.”

Tim nodded. “Alright. See you later?”

Robin glanced back at them from the windowsill. She gave a two finger salute, grinning. “Sure. Bye.”

They watched tiny fingers shut the window behind her before slipping out of view.

She reminded Marinette of an outdoor cat. Kinda just does what she wants and then drops by for food every once in a while; might want affection but probably not, do not approach unless approached; gets in a lot of dumb fights and then comes back with a messed up nose but acts like nothing happened and you’re insane for bringing it up…

Yeah. So, they now have another cat. At least they were both cat people?

Tim grinned as she handed him a plate. “Thanks, Bean. Any progress?”

“Nope,” Marinette said, taking a seat beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she’ll see that we’re safe eventually. I can wait for that.”

He hummed his understanding. “Can’t wait until we make enough progress to be able to eat with her.”

She grinned. “Your bar is too high, darling. It’d be nice if she gave us her actual name.”

“Yeah… I’m still holding out for it, though. She has, what, six years before she is able to legally get a job and won’t need us? We should be able to have food with her once in six years, don’t you think?”

Marinette smiled. “Kwami, I sure hope so.”

~

Tim rested his head on the windowsill, a tiny frown on his face.

They were on a stakeout. According to Sources there was supposed to be a handoff within the next week.

Marinette sat down beside him and pushed himself up some to send her an awkward grin.

She offered him some Oreos from the packet she held.

There was a long silence as they sat there, listening to the warehouse through their comms. The most interesting thing so far had been the fly buzzing past one of their bugs.

“This feels like cheating,” she said with a sigh.

“I know, right?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Also you guys’ bugs are better quality than mine and I hate that.”

He snickered. “I can… ‘lose’ some bugs for you if you want.”

“You’d end up ‘losing’ too many.”

He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not if we put it in my watch.”

“Doesn’t it get stolen every other week?”

“Sure, but B replaces it all the time. Still more sustainable than bugging every item I wear.”

She thought about it for a minute before smiling at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

~

Marinette sat in a coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee as she tried to explain to Kagami Tsurugi that, no, a full ball gown wasn’t possible in three days and that she should have given more warning. The power in their apartment building had gone out while she was talking to a client and her phone had low power so… nearest coffee shop. There was free wifi, places to plug in her phone, and, of course, coffee.

A glance at the time showed that Tim would be off work in about half an hour. Hm. She went alone. She figured she’d see him there, anyways.

She blinked as a hand tapped her on the shoulder, expecting to see Tim, only to find the friendly barista that had given her her coffee. She whispered to Kagami that she needed to hold and lowered the phone a little.

“Here, ma’am, I’m sorry I forgot this earlier. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Marinette stared at the new drink that had been shoved in her hand. There was some writing on the label.

Dont look now but theres a man watching you.

And an arrow pointing to her right.

Marinette smiled up at the woman. “It’s alright. Thank you.”

The woman didn’t seem all that convinced, so Marinette spun around in her seat. “Darling, you’re being a creep, get over here.”

“I’m not a creep! You were on the phone!” He complained, but he walked over and took a seat across from her.

“Excuses, excuses.”

The poor barista looked so confused.

She sent her a smile. “Thanks for looking out for me.” She handed over a twenty. “For the drink. Keep the change.”

The woman left and Tim pulled out his computer to do some extra work while Marinette finished up her phone call. Then, she smiled at him.

“A random lady found you. You’re off your game.”

He pouted. “I was being obvious on purpose. Wanted to see if you could find me.”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute when you don’t know people are watching you.”

He did little more than raise an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. She grinned and leaned across the table to kiss him on the nose.

After a few second’s thought she pulled out her phone and changed Tim’s name to Spy-derman.

He snickered at the tiny notification, rolling his eyes. “Great.” Then he squinted at the name. “I never asked: why Spiderman?”

She grinned. “Well, the first time we met we met on the roof of a super tall building… but the door was super creaky and loud so all I could imagine was you swinging up there like Spiderman… wait, actually, did you?”

He rolled his eyes again. “You were just too concentrated on your work to hear me.”

“... oh. Well. that’s less fun. I’m choosing to ignore that.” She grinned. “Still can’t believe you called me Frenchie of all things. Did you use all two of your brain cells for that one?”

He gasped as if offended. “It was a reference to that character from The Boys.”

“Of course it was. Fucking nerd.”

He pecked her on the lips. “You love me, though.”

“Hm. Yeah. I do.”

[winterscaptain]

the smartest man in the room.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

request from anon: “Can I kiss you?” (#2) + tender sofa kisses with forehead press (#4) + “I want to believe you, I do...I just...how can I believe something I can’t see?” (#10) with Hotch or Spencer, little angsty but sweet ending a/n: look who’s back, back again! i had so much fun with this request and wrote it all in one sitting. let me know if i messed anything up re: grammar, pronouns, etc. i love you all so so much thank you for your support this week xx words: 1700 warnings: some emotionally manipulative text messages, language

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Closed

+++

It was one of the many nights you’d landed on the Hotchners’ couch, hanging around long after Jack was tucked into bed. You were still firmly planted on the sofa while Aaron finished up the dishes (“I can’t sleep when there are dishes left in the sink – I just can’t.”)

You’d had a bad day. Well, a bad week.

Okay. Maybe a bad month. Or two.

Your newly-minted ex wouldn’t leave you alone. You’d finally plucked up the courage to break it off for good and leave it that way. He’d been calling nonstop, but the texting was worse. His tactics changed all the time, giving you a kind of emotional whiplash.

11:26pm Please honey I’m sorry 11:27pm I’ll do anything

1:38am You’ll be lucky if anyone ever puts up with you again. I’m the only man who hates myself enough to tolerate you 1:43am I know you’re awake and it’s not like you could be anywhere but home 1:44am I can’t imagine people are clamoring to hang out with you 1:44am But I’m not like them. I want to see you. I miss you.

You threw your phone back onto the coffee table as Aaron walked back in from the kitchen, clearly chuffed at having finished the dishes without triggering your compulsion to help him. His posture changed immediately when he saw you, his brow furrowing.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

He took the dishtowel from his shoulder and dried his hands. You weren’t sure how he did it, but the very action conveyed a kind of sardonic disbelief. He wasn’t buying it for a minute, but then again he could always read you like a book.

You didn’t look at him, even as he sat down beside you.

“Do I need to ask again?” His voice was quiet, gentle even, and tears sprung into your eyes.

Your lip quivered, and you swiped angrily at the tears on your cheeks. “No.”

Aaron sighed and picked up your phone. “Can I look?”

You nodded, and brought your knees to your chest, looping your arms around them. You watched as he unlocked your phone and started scrolling. His thumb went up, up, up and his brows went down, down, down. When his right hand curled into a fist in his lap, you reached over, putting your hand over the screen.

He dropped your phone in his lap.

Another text came through. You both looked down at it.

1:57am I’m coming over.

“Don’t worry, I locked my door before I left,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your tone.

Aaron was still silent and if you were honest, it made you a little nervous.

The bitterness fell out of you, replaced by concern. “Hotch?”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe him.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Look, he’s not wrong. I really –“

“Stop.” His voice was louder than you expected, and it startled you into silence. He sighed and said, “Stop,” but quieter this time. He reached for your hand, and you placed your fingers into his palm. Your hands swung lightly in the chasm between you. You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You are...” he paused, looking for the words, and no matter what he said he knew it wouldn’t be enough, “important. The lives of people around you are improved by your very presence.”

The tears fell freely now as you rested your chin on your knee, letting the salt stain your jeans.

“I cannot begin to imagine a world where you are not respected by the people around you.” His voice grew harsher but not louder, aware that his son was sleeping soundly in the room down the hall. “I cannot fathom throwing away the privilege of being close to you, of knowing you.” He jabs his finger at your phone and his grip around your hand grows firmer and more comforting. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so worked up. “This person? He’s nothing. He’s –“

“Aaron. I want to believe you, I do...I just...how can I believe something I can’t see?”

His eyes grew sad and he tugged lightly on your hand. You unfolded, your feet landing on the floor.

“Come here,” he said.

You shuffled over, and he slipped his arm under your knees and draped your legs over his. He pulled you to his chest, tucking your head under his chin. He always had a way of making you feel bite-sized - like he could get between you and any threat.

That’s because he can.

“To answer your question,” he said, breaking the silence, “you can see it if you know where to look.”

You looked up at him, craning your neck a bit. “What do you mean?”

He squinted, but it was more to himself than to you. There was something going on – an internal debate, it seemed – behind his eyes.

“Aaron?” You figured it was smart to stop him in his tracks while he was still (probably) ahead.

“Can I kiss you?”

That’s not what you expected. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and your stomach fell...somewhere it wasn’t usually.

Instead of answering him, you bridged the gap. The feeling of his lips against yours knocked the breath out of you.

He let out the softest of noises – somewhere between surprise and contentment, and automatically brought his hand to the back of your head.

Your lips moved softly together, exploring and discovering. There was no ulterior motive when he swept his tongue over your lower lip or when you opened yourself to him in response. He shifted his attention, his lips covering the corner of your mouth before wandering to your cheeks.

You kept your eyes closed as he kissed your tears away. Aaron’s hands found their way to your jaw, framing your face and holding you with a tenderness that had tears pricking at your eyes again.

He pulled back, brushing the stragglers away with his thumb.

“Is this okay?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You pressed your forehead to his, breathing him in. “Yes,” you said with a small smile. “This is okay.”

The two of you stayed there for a moment, eyes fluttering closed. Aaron was ever so slightly rocking back and forth in time with his breath.

“You’re staying here tonight, and as long as it takes for that motherfucker to leave you alone.” It wasn’t a request and there was not a single part of you that minded.

There was, however, a few parts of you that found his profanity hilarious, as it so rarely made an appearance. You tucked your face into his shirt and laughed, letting the wave of relief, anxiety, contentment, joy, grief, and then some wash over you. It was overwhelming and conflicting and you were so glad you weren’t alone.

Your phone buzzed. Aaron picked it up and handed it to you.

2:13am Where are you? 2:13am Answer the door.

You looked at Aaron, who shrugged. “Up to you, love.”

The endearment made you smile and gave you the push to text him back.

2:15am Lose my number. If you contact me or approach me, my place of residence, or my place of employment for any reason, I will press harassment charges faster than you can blink. Have a good night.

You looked up and Aaron’s smirk set off a wave of butterflies in your stomach. You handed him your phone. He turned on his heel, pocketed your phone, and disappeared down the hallway.

“Wait!” You hissed. “Where are you going?” You padded after him.

He stopped short, and you ran right into his back. He turned and looked at you with raised eyebrows. “To bed. Were you planning to sleep at all tonight?”

You looked up, thinking. “I didn’t really get that far if I’m honest.”

Aaron smiled at you, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks. He slid his hands down your arms and took your hands in his. “Do you want to stay in my room, or should I make up the couch?”

You pretended to think for a moment. “I think I’d feel safer if I stayed,” you stepped up so you were pressed against him, “right here.”

“Well,” he said, starting to walk backward into the bedroom, “I would hate for you to feel unsafe in my home. It would be wise to take every,” he pulled you close, his lips ghosting over yours, “necessary precaution.”

You hummed a breathless assent. “That’s smart. You’re smart.”

He kissed you again, pulling you down with him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You were significantly taller than he was at this angle, and he loved the way you tipped his head back, running your hands through his hair.

“I’m very smart,” he said against your lips. “Ask anyone.”

You managed to keep contact with him even as you replied, “I won’t. I’d hate to shatter your self-image.”

He pulled back with a faux-wounded expression. “Ouch.”

You smiled and kissed his nose. “You’re the smartest man in this room, honey.”

He rolled his eyes.

+++

When you finally settled into bed, facing Aaron in the dark, you realized the pit of anxiety that had sat like a rock in your belly for months was finally gone.

“Hey, Aaron?”

He hummed. It was a question.  

Your fingertips danced across his cheek, and you admired the way his long eyelashes looked against his skin in the soft light from the window. “Thank you.”

His eyes opened, his hand catching yours. He kissed your palm and tugged you forward. “No need to thank me for saying things that are true.”

You wrapped your arm around him, letting the other get squashed between your bodies. If he felt the fresh tears on his shirt, he didn’t acknowledge them.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he said. You felt his lips and breath in your hair.

“I will.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnesmb @vintagecaptainspidey

[lighdramons]

Hi I'm back. I promised awhile ago I’d tell the story of the fucked up digi.mon cult, so I figured that’s a great start for getting back onto this hellsite.

If the read more works, everything will be below the cut and it is a mess. Just a few things before the cut though:

General TW as I will be bringing up some of the bad experiences I had as well as talking about mental illness.

I will not be using names of sites, usernames, etc. I will not answer on specific users either. I’m sure these sites are still operating somewhere privately and back in the day, some of these people were big in the Digi.mon community outside of the sites as well.

If any of the people involved see this, no ill wishes towards you guys, just my take on things.

I quit these sites back in early 2015. I do not know what happened after I quit. I am only still in contact with a few individuals who either quit around the same time as me or long before.

As a general courtesy, some of these sites still exist. Please do not go harass them. A lot of the public sites are just teens trying to figure out themselves.

If you have questions or comments after reading this whole thing, I’m happy to answer any either publicly or privately. And yes, you can reblog this post.

We need to jump back to 2007 to begin with. I was a middle schooler getting back into Digi.mon because I walked into Gamestop and Digi.mon was sitting in the new releases. And I had access to the internet. I did binge S1-5 with subs and watching reruns of the dub on Toon Disney. I spent some time on the big fansite. Great site, just bad experience at the time because I was a teen and probably lied about my age. I didn’t feel like that was the community for me. I do check it every day now for news, just never made a new account cause I don’t even remember what I used back in the day.

By end of 2008/beginning of 2009 I began looking for other sites, stumbled across the digiclipse stuff on the bad encyclopedia site, looked into it, thought it was neat, moved on. Stuck with the big site for now because the only other sites I found were RP sites and not my thing at the time. Got hit hard with depression at the start of 10th grade (late 2010) and found my way back onto the digiclipse stuff. Didn’t really believe most of it, but thought the idea of creating AI Digi.mon was neat. Joined the smaller of the two sites because it felt friendlier and most users seemed my age.

For people who do not know, digiclipse is the act of going outside and holding the toys up hoping to get teleported. Most people by the time I joined thought the people who did this were crazy. Some people liked to do it for the lolz though.

Anyways, most of what happened on the sites was just talking and hanging out in chat rooms about life and other things. It was pretty chill. I can’t speak for everyone on the sites, but for me it was an escapism kind of thing. I was depressed and hated life so pretending that a magical adventure was a possibility gave me some hope. But honestly, got a group of people who were cool to talk with for the most part. There was one older female in her mid 20s that would come in the chat drunk and sexually harass the other female users and tell all the male they should die and are worthless. Nothing was ever done about her. And honestly it was weird having her there when most of the other people on the site were under 18. That was initially my only bad experience on the sites.

At some point during 2011, there were three individuals who claimed to see and speak with their digi.mon partners. And that they could read your aura and tell you exactly your digi.mon partner. And everyone believed this shit, mostly because two of them were prominent members and how could they lie. The process was simple, you would DM them either a creative piece you’ve done (art, writing, etc) or send a photo of yourself and they’d come back in a few days and tell you who your partner was. There was only ever one individual this method of tracking did not work on and that is yours truly. Oh and at the time it hit hard because I had started falling down the rabbit hole. This is the beginning of the cult-ish stuff.

Then the Ouija board happened. I have no issues with what happened during the fucking around with said Ouija board, I have issues with everything that spiraled out of control after. They fucked around with it confirming people’s partners that the others had “found”. And eventually they asked about mine. And then it was basically said, “oh we can’t tell you the results”. I was eventually added to this secret site of “The Chosen”. And basically told, “oh your partner is the offspring/creation of THE BIG BAD” and there were all sorts of debates on what to do about it. I literally thought I was getting punked at first and these people are clearly taking this whole thing too far. No, these people all believed this. Oh and the best part, most of the people involved in this “chosen” group were in their mid 20s. Me being a depressed as fuck 16yo that just wanted something exciting in life ended up eating all this up. I felt special and chosen. I look back on it now and I’m like what a fucking idiot.

We were all taught from the three who could do the stuff I explained earlier how we can also learn to bond and communicate and see our partner. I had absolutely no progress. Eventually this stuff led to everyone in this “chosen” group getting a “special guardian spirit”. Again, I made no progress on this. And to the point where they made me feel special again, I was the only person who had the wrong “guardian spirit” and they eventually found my “real one”, more on this later.

These discussions moved from a forum site to a private skype chat room, and then further smaller private chat rooms. The movement to skype is where I started having some bad experiences. I gave a few of my “close” friends on the site my phone number, soon everyone had my number. And this happened to multiple people over the years. My own stupidity at the time.

This stuff continued as I finished high school. At the time, I still managed to maintain my social life with school friends, keep up my grades, etc. Got into college with a good scholarship in my dream field. And then I started to go downhill once I got to school. The longer this stuff went on, the more you were expected to be involved. Including being on skype calls all night. It slowly began consuming my life. I ended up not only with depression, but ending up with an ED that was tied to anxiety so I’d go days without eating. I was seeing things and hearing voices, which was highly encouraged because it meant things were working. I literally could not tell the difference of when I was asleep or awake. I honestly do not remember the majority of my freshman year of college. I had no real friends and was just barely scraping by grade-wise. And well, the academic year almost ended with me hanging from a pipe in my dorm.

I ended up running the site I started on as an admin after the original admin team left. And it was expected you do not mention any of the “secret” stuff on the main site. Over the years I know it became clear to the users not included that there were secrets in the background. And those who knew stuff would actively fuck with these users. And if I haven’t made it clear yet, there was a hierarchy to this whole secret group. And it was the original three who were mentioned at the beginning that were on top. And what they said was gospel. Whatever they claimed is what happened and whatever rules they had were the rules. But of course certain people could break the rules and get away with it.

This next part happened at some point during my freshman year and will be relevant again later on. This is the biggest TW section so skip if you have to. I had a user dox me. He had my home address and threatened to post it. He had sent it privately to a few other users as well that alerted me of this. His reasoning? I would not date him or say I loved him. He told me that he would come to my house, murder me, r*pe my dead body, because he is the only one who gets to have me. Another user got involved and called the cops. I do not know if anything ever came of this because I never spoke to anyone about it. I at the time had admin privileges on one of the sites so I banned him and blocked his IP and I blocked him on anything I could. And I continued doing this over the years. I was told I was a bad person for doing this because I did not understand him. This lead to a lot of the things in the above paragraph getting worse.

As this all continued, there were battles and casualties and everyone ended up with like 20 partners. And if you haven’t noticed I’ve stopped using the term digi.mon entirely in the past few paragraphs. That’s because oh they weren’t digi.mon. They were spirits/dimensional beings that took on a form we were comfortable with and we formed a bond with. And I kept going along with all of this because I was in too deep at this point. And obviously yes, this all made sense. So at some point during this time, my “spirit” went to sleep and a new one “awakened”. And I of course still went along with all this. The BIG BAD kept mutating into stronger forms and blah blah blah.

During my fall semester sophomore year, I joined theatre at my college and did tech. Honestly, one of the reasons I was able to begin breaking away from this. I started to get an actual friend group and have less time for these sites. But there was always a pull of “you have to be here”. You were expected to be on skype calls and/or active in chat.

Well, that all changed at the start of 2015. They wanted a deletion of all the other sites and they would have one site united under one belief system. I was not a huge fan of this and made this known, but also offered to help in the coding as that was a skill I had that no one else really had. It got out around that I was a cunt and a power hungry bitch and blah blah blah. If it was just that, I would probably not have left. No no no, I was accused of lying about the shit that that user said and did to me. Because he is such a nice guy that could never do that type of stuff. And unless I provided the receipts I was clearly an attention seeking liar that wanted to ruin his life. That was the straw. I fucking blacked out in a rage and attempted to delete some of the different websites, I blasted some of these people on their real facebooks, and then I deleted all of my accounts and blocked everyone and blocked their numbers.

After that, I started talking with other people that quit. I started enjoying my college life. And I tried to act like none of that stuff had happened. I distanced myself from those individuals that were active in the Digi.mon community. I stopped hearing the voices and seeing things. I started going to therapy. My road hasn’t been perfect, but I’ve come a long way since I got out of this stuff. Honestly going to meet up with one old member after covid is all clear cause we’ve known each other for over a decade now and its about time we finally meet in person.

So yeah, that’s my story. I know I jumped around a bit and thoughts might not be too clear, but I wanted to share the fucked up things that happen in the background of the digi.mon community. Did I have good times? Hell yeah. The Olive Garden incident still to this day is iconic. We played d&d oneshots sometimes. We had memes. We all watched xros and hunters together live. And I still have some good friends out of this. The most fascinating thing out of all of this is everyone from the community that I still am either in contact with or see them via social media had admitted over the years to suffer from some kind of mental illness and has come out as part of the LGBTQA+ community. My own conclusion is a lot of us got sucked in due to depression/escapism and just a feeling of not belonging. And being around people of similar age with similar interests just made things more bearable at times. It also made a lot of us very vulnerable to the manipulation that took place, whether it was intentional or just one big group delusion created by multiple mentally ill people. I call it a cult, but I'm sure people will disagree with me. Whatever you want to call it, it wasn't good for my mental health in the long run.

If this shit is still going on, I hope people aren’t letting it consume their lives. And I just wish the best for everyone even if some of the shit hurt me.

As I said up top, if you want me to elaborate on anything or have questions, I’m good with talking about stuff. If you know me IRL and are reading this and are like "RACHEL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" I owe you a drink and explanation. And of course it Is okay to reblog. This is one hell of a comeback post on this site, am I right?

[celest1all]

Against Orders

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Request: Can I request for Criminal Minds? The reader is dating Hotch and she works with the team out on the fields with them. On the most recent case, she gets injured and when she gets back, she ignores Hotch’s orders about taking time off to heal and shows up anyways? So he has to keep an eye on her and when he can’t, he asks one of the other agents to?

Requested by; @thefandomnetworkingchannel-32

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, arguing,

MASTERLIST

About two weeks ago, you and the BAU were called in on a case. Two women had turned up murdered and the local police wanted you to make sure another woman wouldn’t be killed. The UnSub had only managed to kidnap the victim and didn’t have enough time to kill her. However, when you went to go arrest the UnSub, he drew his gun on you and shot you. Three times, to be exact.

“Why not?!” You argued back, getting more annoyed by the second. You weren’t about to give up quite yet. What were you two arguing about in the first place? Oh, just the fact that you wanted to go back to work and stop bad people from getting away with their disgusting crimes, no big deal right?

Wrong.

Apparently to Agent Aaron Hotchner, it was like you were asking to buy a pet unicorn or something. Yes, you understood why he was hesitant about going back at work when you were technically supposed to be on leave for another three weeks, but you were feeling better! Why couldn’t the guy see that?

“Aaron, I’m fi-ine, really.” You had managed to move slightly awkwardly which in turn, made you wince. You cursed inwardly at the terrible timing.

“I’m hanging up now.” Hotch stated, making you bite your lip in exasperation. “Go to sleep, it’s late.”

“Whatever.” You said. You registered the fact that you probably sounded like a teenager who hadn’t got their way -- which was what you were, minus the teenager part -- but you couldn’t care less right now.

Your phone bleeped signalling that he had indeed hung up, aggravating you further. Trying to release some of the anger bubbling up inside you, you threw your phone onto your bed with a huff. When that didn’t work, you decided to throw yourself onto your bed.

You were laying there, face down on your mattress for about five minutes -- could’ve been ten, who knows -- when your brain concocted a plan. You knew what time Hotch got to the BAU, so you would just get there before he did. Sure, it will probably annoy the shit out of him, but again, you couldn’t care less right now. He was annoying you, so why not annoy him back?

****

You arrived at the BAU quite early, earlier than you wanted to be honest. It was still dark outside so that told you it was definitely way earlier than you wanted it to be. Your stomach was giving you trouble, the stitches were being more of a pain in the ass than Aaron was being. You tried sleeping, but when that didn’t seem to work, you decided to start your day at four a.m.

You limped your way over to your desk, smiling at the fact it looked the same as it did before you got shot -- messy, but the same. There were still files everywhere, pictures of you and the team and a bobble head you had gotten from London. Your eyes lingered on the pictures of you and the team, your heart warming at the sight of them.

You loved the BAU team like they were your family, hell, they are your family. And for that you would forever be grateful for them, they gave you a family when you didn’t have anyone.

You gracefully fell into your seat, making an oof sound when you landed. You were glad that there was barely anyone around because you would’ve been subjected to their harassment of going home as well.

Since you had approximately three or four more hours before your boyfriend of two years was going to come in, you opted to throw yourself into some paperwork due to it mounting up over the weeks.

You had always found a weird sense of comfort when it came to paperwork. Most of the time, you didn’t realise you had finished it before you started writing on the table.

“That’s what I was say — Y/N?” You recognised that perky voice anywhere. “What’re you doing here?”

Penelope started pulling you into a hug, making you groan out in pain. She began stuttering out apologies which you waved off.

“It’s fine.” You laughed, breathing rather heavily.

“Y/N?” Derek said, you averting your gaze somewhere else, knowing what he was about to say. “What’re you doing back?”

“Um, Hotch let me come back.” You smiled up at the two.

“Hotch let you come back to work after you were shot twice?”

“Three times.” Penelope corrected.

“Three times.” Morgan sent a pointed look your way. You started nibbling on your bottom lip, not really knowing what to say.

You darted your eyes between the two, the looks they were giving you made you slightly uneasy — and annoyed.

“Okay fine, I’m supposed to be on leave for three more weeks,” you relented “But I’m here now so what’s the point of going?”

“He’s going to freak when he sees you.” Penelope grinned, baring her bright white teeth. You shrugged in response, knowing for a fact that he will go ape shit when he sees you here. Not only did you do the one thing he said not do as a boyfriend, but you also went against a direct order — which you kind of forgot existed. You didn’t forget it on purpose, it just had escaped your mind.

Oh this was such a bad plan.

“Oh fuck.” You cursed out loud. Penelope and Derek turned back to face you, both their eyebrows raised.

“What?” They asked simultaneously.

“I think I’ve done a bad thing.” You said whilst rubbing your hands on your skirt since they had become very sweaty all of a sudden. “ A very bad thing.”

The two both sent you a look that told you to elaborate on what you meant, so you did. “I think Aaron may have gave me a direct order on not to come in.”

Morgan and Garcia widened their eyes in understanding. There was a beat of silence before they both started laughing, presumably at your stupidity.

“This isn’t funny!” You whisper-shouted at the two, ultimately shutting them up. You put your head in your hands and begun debating whether you were going to scream or not.

“Calm down, Y/N,” Derek began “Or you’re going to tear your stitches out and then you will definitely be on leave for three more weeks.”

You sighed and leant back in your chair, “Yeah, your right.”

“It’s not too late to go home now, you know.” Penelope pointed out. Just at that moment, Hotch walked into the office, thankfully oblivious to your presence.

“I can’t move that fast, Pen. I’ve got fucking stitches in my stomach — he’s going to see me before I even make it out of the bullpen.”

“He’s already seen you.” Derek added. You don’t think you’ve ever snapped your head up as fast as you did. And just as you thought, Aaron was glaring at you from his office.

Your plan had backfired tremendously.

You had expected for him to start striding his way over to you and scold you for being at work, but instead he just glared, clenched his jaw and turn back to his paperwork. Which was somehow worse, in your opinion.

Thankfully, Garcia’s phone went off which always meant there was a case everyone could focus on, instead of you.

“We gotta case?” You asked, trying to avoid looking at Hotch’s office.

“Yeah.”

“Great!” You began getting up from your seat, albeit slowly, but you were still doing it.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah.” Derek started pushing you back down again, he was rather gentle which surprised you since he was an extremely muscular human being. “Not so fast.”

“Derek, please.” You begged, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

He stared at you for a second so you stared back. It was like a competition on who was going to break first.

“Is he looking?” He asked you. You quickly glanced at your boyfriends office, and when you saw he was still busying himself with paper work, you shook your head. Derek hauled you off the chair slowly, and helped you stand up right. “You owe me for this.”

“I’ll by you a drink or something.” You mumbled, side eyeing him slightly. You could feel the vibrations of his laugh through you, which threw you off since it was a weird sensation.

Now it was the tricky part; working the case.

****

It took you all about 5 minutes to sit around the round table. You could sense — or rather feel — Aaron sending daggers your way, but chose to ignore it.

You were relieved when you found out the case was local, so you didn’t have to fly anywhere. Since you were still recovering from being shot, you thought it was a good idea to stay at the BAU and work the case from there.

You had guessed that Derek and Penelope has filled the rest of the team in on the current situation, but what you didn’t know was that Hotch had asked Reid to keep and eye on you.

“Hey, Spence?” You said.

“Yeah?” He answered, but still looking at whatever was in front of him.

“Why aren’t you out in the field?” You frowned, the thought hitting you whilst you were flicking through information.

“I thought I would be of better help here than out there.” He replied absentmindedly. You accepted his reasoning and turned back to your files.

Luckily, the case only took you the whole day and night to solve, which was good for you since you were stiff and achey by the end.

Hotch had avoided you the whole day, you knew that for a fact, but you wanted to talk to him. He was your boyfriend first and foremost, he can’t ignore you forever. So you decided to seek him out, if he wasn’t going to talk to you, you were going to talk to him. Leave him no room for debate.

As you expected, he was in his office finishing the case report. You walked — hobbled more like— up his steps and walked straight in, not bothering to knock.

“Agent L/D.” The use of your last name took you by surprise, he hadn’t used it in about two years. But what took you by even more surprise was the lack of emotion in his voice.

“Uh, hi.” You replied rather sheepishly.

“Why are you in my office?” He asked. Apparently you weren’t worth him looking up from his reports. All the anger you had in you last night had disappeared and had been replaced with hurt.

“I was wondering if we could talk?” You fiddled with your hands and swallowed the lump in your throat. All the the emotions you had compartmentalised from when you got shot had now came barrelling at you 100 miles an hour. The pain, the fear, everything. Right here, right now.

Hotch ignored what you said and continued scribbling on the papers that were strewn across his desk. “Aaron?”

At the sound of his name, he dropped his pen rather violently onto the desk and stared at you. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I just — ” The man stood up abruptly and walked around his desk so he could stand infront of yoy, effectively cutting you off.

“Just what?” He leant back on the wood, watching your every move. When you didn’t — or rather couldn’t — say anything, he decided it was his turn to speak.

“You did the one thing I asked you not to do.” He stated. You couldn’t figure out if he was angry with you as your boss or boyfriend. And you couldn’t figure out which one would be worse.

“I get that, but — ”

“I don’t think you do,” he started. “Because if you did, then you would’ve realised I wanted you to stay at home because then I would know you were safe and recovering.”

You averted your gaze everywhere else but Hotch.

“Look at me.” You didn’t look at him. “Look at me, Y/N.” He said, much softer this time. You turned your tear-glistened eyes his way, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“I wasn’t telling you to stay at home as your boss. I was telling you to stay at home as your boyfriend.” You tried to keep the tears in your eyes, but you were failing miserably. “I love you and I can’t see you get hurt again.”

At that point, you flung yourself at him, not caring about the stitches in your stomach. You probably should’ve just walked and pulled him into a hug since it hurt like a bitch, but too late now.

“I love you too.” You whispered in his ear.

The hug lasted about a minute before you both pulled away. You smiled at one another before you said something, “Did you ask Reid to keep an eye on me?”

“Yes.” He stated, you nodded at him in understanding.

“I’ll leave you to the paperwork.” You waved at him and headed to the door.

“I’ll come over once I’m finished.” Hotch added.

You turned around to face him again and winked, “See you then, Agent Hotchner.”

You left him there in his office, laughing at your antics. Maybe you should go against orders again...

No, you definitely shouldn’t go against orders again.

tag list; @accio-rogers / @angelinathebook / @strawberriesonsummer

if you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to ask <33

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt77

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Damian spent the next day with Marinette at the hotel. Chloe and Luka both had school and Mari needed someone to keep her calm before the meeting with the Justice League. Not to mention Damian did not want to be stuck in the apartment with Drake. When Hawkmoth was unmasked it created a lot of ripples that everyone was still reeling from. Françoise Dupont was one more casualty. Between the ongoing investigation that was happening because of what happened to Marinette and the fact that Hawkmoth’s son went there the school was shut down until they found new staff at the very least. Since Damian hadn’t transferred yet he was off until it went through.

“So how’s your family taking the announcement?” He figured she’d ask eventually but it had taken her three hours so he’d give her points for restraint.

“The same way they take everything. It’s just one more thing for them to make fun of and overanalyze.” He saw her expression go hard and when she spoke there was a dangerous edge to her voice.

“They’re making fun of your sexuality?” He actually shivered at her tone. This was why Batman himself was terrified of this tiny girl.

“No. More making jokes about me having a significant other at all. Apparently they all decided that if I was ever to show interest in someone it would definitely not be reciprocated. At the moment they seem to be debating whether I’m making the whole thing up or holding my boyfriend’s family hostage to get dates.” It was their usual nonsense and he was used to it. Marinette however looked ready to transform and go back to Gotham to ‘talk’ to them.

“You should tell them that’s not okay. You shouldn’t be so worried about dealing with them that you’re afraid of living your life.” Damian just scowled at her in annoyance.

“I’m not afraid of those idiots.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I didn’t say you were. But how many times do you decide to not do something because you don’t want to deal with the fallout? How often do you debate whether it’s worth it to do something that actually makes you happy because you think they’ll give you shit for it? They need to know that’s not okay. You should be able to live your life without being concerned about what they’ll say or do.” That made sense, to a point anyway. When he really considered it he realized she was right. It never would have occurred to him to ask to go to an arts school because he didn’t want to listen to their comments. At the same time, it was how they acted with everyone in the family.

“They don’t just do it to me you know. They constantly harass each other just as much. I could just ignore it and not let it control my actions.” He hadn’t realized how much it did control his actions if he was being honest. That was one of the many things he’d learned about himself because of his friendship with Marinette. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

“That doesn’t make it alright. Just because they don’t discriminate in their stupidity doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be called out on it. Just like when I call you out for being an asshole.” He gave her a flat look but she just smiled at him. It was becoming harder to keep a straight face around her and he couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

“Any idea what you’re going to say to the Justice League?” All else fails, redirect the conversation. Marinette grimaced at the question before blowing out an annoyed breath.

“I assume that Superman is going to start before I can get a word in edgewise so having an actual speech planned out is pointless. There’s only a few things I want to make clear. First that the ban to travel to Paris will be lifted at the end of the week in case of ‘loose ends’. Mainly I just want them to stew about the fact that they can’t do whatever they please.” Damian let out a snort of laughter at that. Given the way they’d all tried to descend on Paris the moment Hawkmoth’s capture hit the news he understood why she was doing it. They didn’t wait to confirm she had in fact caught the real villain and could have just been putting Paris at risk. “Second, that they still have absolutely no authority over the Miraculous themselves. Having Wonder Woman’s backing should help with that but I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more of them try to tell me to give them the Miraculous. And third, if any of them think tracking us down to take them is a good idea they’ll get the full force of the wrath the Kwami are capable of. Given that Plagg destroyed the dinosaurs in an ‘oops’ moment they should probably be worried about what he can do when angered.”

“As much as I would like to believe words will work, you may have to do another demonstration.” Marinette just nodded at him. She knew as well as he did that this wasn’t going to be easy. It was highly probable that they’d spend the next six months or so showing various members of the League that they needed to back off. Yet another reason for him to stay in Paris. Damian still didn’t understand why Marinette didn’t just ask him for the civilian identities of the heroes so she could deal with them herself. “Did you figure out which wheelchair you want to get? My father said he’d pay the difference if you need something out of your price range.”

“That’s a kind offer but I’m not struggling for money. My business has actually gotten even better since the fashion show. I might actually have to hire some people to make the clothing so I can concentrate on design if I don’t want to start turning people away. I’m also getting a lot of interest from clothing manufacturers about designing discount clothing to market to a broad audience. Honestly just doing one of those would likely have me set for life. I’m just glad I’m at the point where this won’t completely destroy my parents financially. While it’s nice to know they love me enough to sell the bakery and move somewhere that’s accessible to me I would never want them to have to.”

“Well if you need tips or names of people to help with that, Drake would be a good source. I know that you have Jagged stone but global manufacturing is different from music in a lot of ways. Wayne Enterprises deals with a lot more of the problems you’re likely to see.” She nodded thoughtfully before offering him a bright smile.

“Thanks, I might just do that. It’ll be helpful to talk to someone who knows the ins and outs of things. I was actually going to ask you since I have a feeling you know a lot more about your father’s business than you let on.” Damian just blinked at her for a moment before giving out a sigh and pulled out his phone to send her a list he’d put together. It was names and numbers of people in the company who could help her along with various laws, specifically intellectual copyright laws, and some other things to do with business. She just gave him another bright smile before she started drawing in her sketchbook again. He really wished he could figure out how she did that.

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[nothlits-archive]

Zoe lunarsystem13 / lunar_system13 / lemonscenteddaves / zazberry is a dangerous person.

Other names they may go by are Raven, Cassandra, Luna, and various other system member names but they primarily identify themself as Zoe or the Lunar System and frequently use the number 13 and blue and purple heart emojis as an identifier. As far as I know they are only active on tiktok now, but do have Twitter and Instagram accounts under the above usernames.

This isn't to get attention or to be petty about anything. I just want to be fully open about my experience and I want to be able to explain my feelings concisely in one place. The biggest reason I'm writing this is because I am scared that Zoe will do to other people what they did to me, because they've shown themself to be unrepentant. I attempted to bring things up with them privately when we were still on speaking terms and it resulted in gaslighting about past situations and a complete refusal to listen to or speak to me ending in uninstalling discord to avoid me.

Content warnings for abuse, gaslighting, disordered eating, hospitalization, drugs, alcohol, sexual harassment, cheating, mentions of death. 

Zoe and I dated for about two years from 2018-2020. We broke up in January 2020 and were on speaking terms until early May. We initially broke up amicably because I felt emotionally neglected and wanted to give Zoe the space they needed to work on some personal problems they'd been struggling with for some time by that point. We agreed they needed more time to themself and didn't have the energy to expend on both self betterment and a partner. I wanted to stay friends with them and stop letting myself get hurt by an absent partner. 

A few weeks after breaking up, Zoe and I got into an altercation where it came out that Zoe had, for the entire duration of our relationship, felt that I would never have been able to meet their needs emotionally no matter what I did and elected to never share this with me or end the relationship. They told me they would eventually just make up for my shortcomings by "getting another partner". Zoe and I were both polyamorous, but this is NOT how I practice polyamory and I didn't think it was how they practiced it either. This totally broke me. 

After this, Zoe blocked me on Twitter and discord. Without apologizing to me for anything, they began messaging every friend of mine they had contact info for, "apologizing" for hurting me and trying to spread a narrative that I was telling people the wrong information about them to make them look bad. Some of the people they messaged were people I did not talk to about my personal life and who had no idea that we had even fallen out. Some of them were my closest friends, who thankfully knew Zoe was full of shit and blocked them. They messaged my boyfriend and told him that they thought I'd only started dating him to get back at them for not reading my fanfiction, a claim that absolutely gutted me as it was never something on my mind and I would NEVER commit to a relationship for the sake of petty revenge over a fanfiction. 

I had to message them from a second Twitter account to ask them about what to do with all of their belongings I still had and tell them not to worry about returning mine. I also messaged them that way to explain that what they'd done and said had devastated me and to reprimand them for messaging my friends weird shit about our personal business. They initially completely ignored me for multiple days until I texted their phone and asked them to let me know if they'd read my message so that I could move on and stop worrying about it all. 

When they finally responded, it was with hostility and they only stopped slinging accusations about me when I told them I didn't see them as a bad person (a statement soon to change). We tentatively made up after they did one of their infamous 180s on me and apologized profusely to me, claiming they understood what they did was wrong now. Debatable.

This is where I think it's important to go into the content of our relationship. At the time of it all happening, I felt our relationship was healthy and stable. But red flags are hard to see when you're in it. 

Zoe is a highly manipulative and narcissistic person. If you look up covert narcissism, they fit the bill 100%. They lie intentionally and consistently in order to make themself look innocent. They gaslight people to play the victim. They repeatedly put me into positions where my only option was to comfort them while ignoring my own feelings. If I stood up for myself or got upset at their behavior, I was told I was being cold or they would throw a tantrum about how traumatized they are and how they can't help it. I entered into a second relationship about a year into ours. Zoe was fully aware of and initially supportive of this, but after some time, any time I would bring up my other partner, Zoe would dissolve into accusations that I was going to leave them, accusations that I was ignoring them for my other partner, complaints that because of their disabilities they weren't as good (a repeated subject for them, which I always, always reassured them was not the case and it never was): all of this in order to obtain comfort from me over the existence of someone else in my life. 

At one point, my boyfriend was considering moving out of his unhealthy home to live with a family member over an hour away from me and Zoe went off the rails to both of us, telling us it wasn't fair for us to be near each other in person if they couldn't be there, how they'd been dating me longer so it was their right to be with me first, how my boyfriend should have to stay where he was even though it was a bad environment for him. This was not a plan. It was a vaguely mentioned idea. Nothing ever came of it. Zoe apologized for this, but their possessive behavior never stopped. This interaction made me feel like an object, not a person they supposedly loved. 

Another time, after visiting me, Zoe began harassing me over needing to be able to house them so they could move down to be with me permanently. They expected this to happen in a matter of months. Zoe is disabled and cannot work and at the time did not receive any government assistance. I work in retail and at the time was living with a friend's family. I did not have my own place. I could not afford to singlehandedly support myself, let alone two people. I told Zoe this, and they told me that if I didn't figure it out they were going to die. This devastated me. I cried for hours because of how bad they were making me feel over something out of my control. I could barely type out responses to them besides asking them to stop and apologizing, but Zoe kept telling me that I was acting like I didn't care and was choosing to give up on them.

After this passed, they did what they always did and flipped to affection flooding me: "I'm so sorry baby, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong at all, I love you so much and know you're trying so hard". 

This sort of on/off behavior was constant. I never knew what was real, or if I'd actually done something wrong, or if Zoe was going to go off on me over the slightest thing. I brought this up to them multiple times. A lot of the time it was met with "I can't help it." Other times, they would apologize and then continue the same behavior. 

I first started telling them I was feeling neglected in October 2019. Nothing changed. When we broke up in January 2020 they told me I never gave them the chance to change or fix anything. They then told me the problems I was having were inherent to their dissociative disorder so it wasn't their fault. They also told me that me breaking up with them made them feel like there was no reason to go on, presumably to make me feel guilty for ending a clearly toxic relationship where they clearly still weren't learning what they were doing was wrong. 

Zoe would frequently accuse me of things I hadn't done and then behave as if those accusations were true. Not limited to: agreeing to mod a discord server my boyfriend made just to keep them out of it on purpose (the link was shared publicly on Twitter where they followed both of us and the server was 3 hours old when they confronted me), abandoning them and not talking to them at all for a week when I was extremely busy every day (I spoke to them at length every single day that week and was not unreachable at any point), many many instances of only being with my boyfriend because I saw them as not good enough due to disability (never true, ever). This led to me never being able to understand my own behavior because Zoe always acted as if I was doing something wrong regardless of whether I was or not. I was guilt tripped a lot for things I didn't even do. I believe Zoe is delusional and genuinely believed these things to be true, but that doesn't change that it hurt and scarred me to be treated this way for so long.

Zoe lied to me about their whereabouts and health frequently. Zoe has DID and many physical health problems they haven't been properly diagnosed yet because of the complex nature of their symptoms. I will not deny Zoe is disabled mentally or physically. But they often used this as a way to get pity or to guilt trip me. Near the end of our relationship, they would disappear for sometimes 14+ hours at a time with no warning. Because of this, I stopped reaching out to them about my feelings or trying to talk to them about anything serious because I had developed a sort of learned helplessness. If I felt that my partner was unreachable, I would spare myself the pain of reaching out and being ignored. My mental health was very poor at this time and I was struggling with my pet being sick and nearly dying. Zoe would tell me they were just sleeping a lot. I knew they were sick and often slept long periods, so I didn't push it but I did keep to myself. They became angry at me for not reaching out to them and told me they couldn't be there for me if I didn't reach out to them and that I didn't want them around. It was a cycle, and I'll admit that I contributed to it, but I did it to protect myself. This is all important because one of Zoe's alters soon told me that Zoe had been lying to me about sleeping and was actually just trying to intentionally keep me from knowing what was really going on, which I won't share because it's not relevant. Finding out my partner was lying to me when they were already being very absent in my life was a hard thing to handle. 

Zoe would also go on to lie about intentionally not eating when they'd told it to me as being physically unable to keep food down because of their Celiac's and lying to me about the length of a serious decline in health that ultimately put them in the hospital. When my pet rabbit, who is like a human child to me, was on the verge of death, Zoe messaged me telling me they were scared they were about to die. When I told them bluntly that they needed to go to the hospital if they truly felt that way, they told me I hurt their feelings and that they didn't literally think they were dying and only said that to me so I'd tell them they weren't dying. While they knew I was in a crisis over potentially losing a pet I consider to be my main emotional support for nearly a decade. Their selfishness is truly limitless and if they think anyone or anything is infringing on their victimhood, they will do whatever they can to get pity and attention.

I cannot confirm that this is a lie, but I have my suspicions about it and it's a toxic situation regardless of whether lying comes into play or not. When Zoe visited me for the first time, they were determined to get and use my thc vape pen. In the past, Zoe told me that weed (and specifically thc) caused them to have seizures and so they did not use it anymore. Because I'd been fed this narrative of how scary the seizures were and how dangerous it was for them and how they couldn't have it anymore, I refused to give them my pen. When I realized how desperate they were, I even hid it. I had to go to work for a few hours one night while they stayed in my home (again, where I live with a friend's family). They became unstable and were essentially begging me to use the pen. I repeatedly said no, saying I wasn't going to be responsible for them having a seizure. They still kept pushing me. Eventually they moved on to threatening to drink alcohol in the house that did not belong to me. They threatened to walk to a liquor store (there isn't one within walking distance and they were all closed). They were unrelenting about the pen. Eventually I gave in because I loved them and they were hurting. They did not have a seizure. I know that now they smoke weed constantly. There's no real proof that they lied to me. It's possible they were misinformed or their health has changed. But they have a long record of lying to look like a victim, and it still stands that they guilt tripped me and cried to me and begged me to give them a substance they had told me would make them sick until I gave in to them. They have openly admitted to intentional automatic lying and see this as being to their benefit.

Despite claiming to be asexual now (they did not for the duration of our relationship), Zoe sexually harassed both my boyfriend and a close friend of mine who I won't name for their privacy. Zoe would send sexual messages to both and sent images and shared nsfw content with one of them without considering boundaries or discomfort of the recipient. They badly triggered my boyfriend and ruined their relationship with him by being predatory. I mention this because I don't want the label of asexual to make anyone think Zoe isn't fully capable of being sexually inappropriate with people. They have a short track record of it. After the incident with my boyfriend, Zoe told me that THEY felt like their heart was being broken and that my boyfriend had manipulated them by being triggered by Zoe's predation. They expected me to comfort them over this and I refused. The entire scenario was brought up to me vaguely with Zoe refusing to give details and trying to simultaneously act as if they were the worst person who'd ever existed and like they were the one being hurt and deserved pity and comfort for being inappropriate. Despite the polyamorous nature of our relationship, I do consider going behind my back to be sexual with my boyfriend to be cheating. Zoe has in the past been accused of cheating by their first ex. They maintain that they didn't, but knowing what I know now about their issues with boundaries, I'm not sure.

In May, I finally decided to try to confront Zoe about the ways they'd hurt me. I brought it up to them in the context of wanting to make them aware of the ways their behaviors could hurt others going forward. Zoe has always been at least outwardly very about doing better and believing people about trauma and trying to fix your mistakes (yes, I realize how stupid I was to believe this now). I thought they would be open to listening to me so they could try to avoid hurting someone else the way I felt hurt. The way this conversation ended up going gutted me worse than anything else has with them. Worse than being told I'd never be good enough. Because it was like the person I knew was just completely gone and I didn't know them at all anymore. 

I brought up the on and off flipping behavior, the emotional manipulation, I provided a screencap of the conversation where they backed me into a corner about needing to figure out how to house them as an example. They responded by telling me I misunderstood the conversation and should've just apologized to them more and been nicer so they wouldn't feel like I didn't care (again, I'd been sobbing uncontrollably and could barely type responses which were mostly "stop", "I'm sorry"). Zoe refused to listen to me about my own trauma. They shut me down. The conversation ended with them telling me I was making them too angry and they'd be back later. They ignored me for four days and, I found out later, uninstalled discord completely to avoid having to read my messages. Instead of having a real-time conversation where we could actually hash things out and I could feel heard if not understood, I resorted to typing up all of my feelings in one message, telling them this was the last I'd be speaking to them because I couldn't keep torturing myself thinking we could be friends, and sent it. 

They replied to me via Twitter days later with a non-apology about how I just don't understand what it's like to have DID and telling me that they don't spend any time thinking about me or what they did to me because they are just so sick that they can't manage it.

This broke me, completely.

Figuring all of this out has been an ongoing process. I truly believed our relationship to be healthy until I began examining things while trying to heal, and realizing the wound just kept going deeper and deeper and deeper. It's been months now since we've spoken and I still can't process everything. I am constantly remembering more fucked up things they said or did to me or my friends. I don't feel like I need to document all of it, especially since it spans such a long time, I only need to give examples of repeated problem behaviors they have given no indication of changing. 

They are gaining a sizeable following on tiktok and that's what scares me. They are so manipulative and cruel and blind to other people's emotions or boundaries. They are self-important and refuse to be told that they're wrong about anything. They will do whatever they can in order to look blameless and innocent. They now claim an identity of self-actualization and I've seen a video where they try to posit that my life is "going poorly" because I don't believe in their religion and listen to a specific podcast about debunking pseudoscience. This is funnier than it is upsetting until you realize it's the same "your life sucks because you don't have the same belief system as me" argument Christians use constantly. Zoe made this statement knowing the trauma I went through regarding religion in childhood. So thanks for that one. It's minor comparatively but it's incredibly tone-deaf and a great example of their eagerness to seem like others are beneath them for arbitrary reasons. 

Zoe does not, as far as I know, have friends, really. All of mine dropped them once they realized what a manipulative person they are. But just knowing they are on a public platform worries me. I am an adult who has been severely traumatized repeatedly and I still fell into their trap. I don't want to think about what they could do if teens or otherwise more impressionable people came to be around them. They are big into social justice and try to seem harmless and allied with minorities to seem even less dangerous, but they absolutely are toxic and unable to acknowledge their wrongdoings in any real way. The last they told me, they were isolating themself to work on things. I don't know if this is true and I have no way of knowing.

I want to end this with self-accountability. I was not and am not perfect. When my relationship with Zoe began, I had just gotten out of an extremely traumatizing situation. I had acute severe dissociative episodes as well as hallucinations and very unstable mood in general as I was adjusting back to being in a safe(r) environment than I had been for the past year. I acted out and lashed out a lot. All of this was apologized for in the best way that I knew how and I have done my best to change my behavior going forward. I consider myself to be in a much better space now mentally. I am always willing to work on problem behavior as long as I'm made aware it exists. There are things I did wrong in this relationship, and I've thought a lot about it, questioning myself and catching myself in old ways of thinking to correct myself now in all of my relationships. I didn't write this to pretend like I did nothing wrong. I am not innocent. But not being innocent doesn't mean these things didn't happen to me, or that they couldn't happen to someone else if I don't at least try to warn people. 

Please don't message Zoe and definitely don't try to argue with them. Just don't engage with them. They've been given a chance to address their behavior maturely and they turned it down in favor of continuing to play the victim in public. Anyone trying to instigate anything with them is just going to give them more fuel to act that way. 

I have already been treated like a liar for some of this information or had people believe Zoe over me on whatever accusations they'd like to make about me. That's been damaging but there's nothing I can really do about it. I'm open to answering any questions but I'm also going to ask that if you do message me about this, please be civil about it. I'm putting myself in a vulnerable place by writing all of this and I am already scared of the outcome. But I routinely convince myself that I'm making things up because of the nature of being gaslit so much. So I needed a written record of that even if Zoe doesn't like it. 

If you read this, thank you. I've been internalizing a lot of things. Getting my experiences out somewhere concise will hopefully help my healing process. 

[kessielrg]

Comeback Kid: Part 2

Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom​ and @animacreates​  are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore? 

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,398

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

One of these days, Sabrina was going to have to ask Brain what the name of his cologne was. In the same breath, she needed to harass him on how much he used on a normal day. The cinnamon scent lingered on the still dryer warm t-shirt she had stolen. It was comforting. For once in her life, she was glad not to be surround by her purple obsession. The scent of lavender may be calming, but at the moment all it was going to do was remind her of the apartment.

And of Ventus.

Good thing Brain wasn't as vain as she was- the only mirror he really had was in the bathroom, attached to the medicine cabinet. If Sabrina had a full body mirror right now, she would have admired just all the ways she could have made Ven jealous. Brain's shirt didn't fall very low on her, but the old leggings she found were enough to cause a direct gaze to her butt. She was almost confident with herself again. Almost. Purposely being alluring to someone didn't mean the same if you didn't actually have someone to allure.

Sabrina grimaced to herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair a bit for something to do. She couldn't look herself in the eye. The last time she looked at herself in a mirror was when she skipped out on Ven. It's only been a day, and it still made her flinch. She had to leave the bathroom before she started to panic again. She went to the living room to find Brain sitting on his couch. The TV showing off some livestream on how to jailbreak a certain console. Sabrina walked up and placed her arms on the back of the couch.

“Could you hold off on being a blatant nerd? You're not even paying attention to it.”

Brain laughing, craning his neck to look up at her. “My house, my rules.” he told her. Then he got a good look at what she was wearing, and laughed. “And here I thought I was done with girls stealing my shirts.”

Sabrina let out a loud, incredibly fake gasp. “You had a sex life? Wow!”

“I could have told you about her if you had just asked. We dated for about a year. Not that I think I would have let you two share a room- you'd scare her.”

“I scare a lot of people. It's not even a challenge anymore.” Sabrina smirked. She moved around to sit next to him. Once she was comfortably sitting, she then asked, “So she was a good one?”

“Very good.” Brain agreed with a wide, incredibly fond, grin. Sabrina immediately recognized it as a grin of true love and scoffed.

“Oh shush, you.” her brother teased, forcing her to lay her head on his chest. She struggled for a moment out of annoyance. When she finally gave up, that was when Brain removed his hand from her head. Instead of sitting back up, though, she remained leaning on him. Brain did pick up the remote to change the TV setting so they could watch something on live broadcast. From there, the duo sat in a peaceful silence.

During the change between shows, Brain laid his head against Sabrin'as in thought.

“Hey Wabi-Sabi.” he mused. His voice was rather soft.

“Yeah?” she replied, her attention not leaving what was on the television.

“Do you remember, back before old Oz took us in, and we tried to spend a night out on the playground at Walt Memorial Park?”

Sabrina shifted a bit in her spot. Her face slightly darker than before as she asked, “Was that before or after the time we almost got caught by some officer around 2 AM?”

“You know what? I think it was that day.” Brain snorted. “But way before that, before the sun went down. Do you remember what we talked about?”

Admittedly, she had to close her eyes to try to remember. They nearly snapped open again as she realized, “It was about Mom, wasn't it? Why she left us.”

Brain gave her a solemn nod. “Not going to lie Sabi, I bluffed about a lot of that stuff. I wasn't there when Mom made the choice. I barely understood that she was the one who even made the choice to keep us together. Back then, I just assumed that they kept siblings together because who wouldn't? But I had to tell you something that night. You had just run away from another family. You were dead convinced that you couldn't be loved.''

“Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” he informed her with a grin. “Just thinkin' out loud, I guess.”

“Liar.” she spat, purposely using her elbow to poke at his side. Brain didn't refute the notion. If anything, he just laughed.

“So,” Brain then said, “What's your game plan for the next month? Oswald cashed in all that overtime and vacation pay you had. I can't see you just jogging between here and the old man's house everyday.”

“Shows what you know.” his sis huffed. “Just for that, I think I'm going to have you personally move all my stuff here.”

“What are you doing with the apartment, speaking of?” Brain asked.

“I don't know.” she admitted in a half grumble. “I'd let the lease run out, but that's still for another four months.”

“You really think you two will apologize between that time?”

Sabrina didn't answer. Instead, her face twisted into one of absolute disgust.

“Never said that.” she hissed.

“Sure, sure.” Brain laughed. “Just don't want you sitting at home with old Hollywood movies and ice cream, that's all.”

“Do you not know me at all?” Sabrina demanded, shoving him with enough force to make him move like a bobblehead for a moment. Brain's mirth did not let up. Sabrina gave her brother another disgusted grimace, but his words stuck with her.

Later on, while debating if she should clear her phone of certain numbers, Sabrina stopped scrolling through to see the name of her ex-boyfriend, Max. Max had been her first serious boyfriend, and they had managed to stay on good terms after the breakup. Sabrina made a single second choice, leading to her listening to the phone ring over as she waited for him to answer. She felt kinda dumb while waiting- was she really that self centered to think tha Max would have the time to even...

“Hey Max.” Sabrina greeted, almost in surprise, when he picked up the phone. “Yeah, I know it's been awhile. That's actually why I'm calling. You want to go to that little tea shop on Main Street tomorrow? I get it if you have other places to be since it's last minute...”

There was just one thing she could always count on in Max; he was patient when the situation called for it. Hearing him on the other end brought up a sense of relief she got from only a select few individuals.

“Thanks Max.” she sighed. “I just… need someone to talk to someone that isn't family. Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'll tell you more later. Bye.”

Sabrina let out a long sigh. Well, that was one bandaid ripped off. Now to deal with the other; getting new clothes.

. . .

This island really was kinda small when you thought about it. She just hoped that no one Ventus knew would recognize her. Then again, the clothes she bought yesterday were darker colors meant to blend in with the crowd. If they managed to recognize her, hopefully she'd be long gone before they could flag her down. Seeing Max casually checking his phone outside the tea shop brought Sabrina a massive sigh of relief.

“Hey Max!” she shouted at him. He looked up and grinned at seeing her.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted with a grin. Once they were close enough they shared a rather heartfelt hug. “You wearing heels today? I knew you had legs for days, but I could've sworn you were shorter than this.”

“Nice try.” Sabrina smirked. She stood a bit taller over the fact that Max was several inches shorter than her. His height was perfect when they were dating- considering what he was nearly in direct eye line of. “You know I've never worn heels around you.”

“I used to be taller than you.” he jokingly pouted.

“Yeah,” she snorted. “For a whole summer.”

Max went into a laugh that was so light and joyful that Sabrina gave a small half smile. Bouncing more banter off each other, the duo headed on into the tea shop. Max found them a corner table near a back window.

“Anything look good?” Sabrina asked as they looked over the menu.

“Haven't had a tea party since I was swindled into one as a kid.” Max mused. “So I guess whatever you want to eat, and I'll take a cup of coffee.”

“How come you're only really adventurous when it comes to extreme sports?” Sabrina teased as she flagged down a waiter.

“Hey, if it's not broke, don't fix it.”

Sabrina just shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

“Welcome to Hightopp & Kingsleigh!” the server girl greeted. “May I recommend the earl grey this afternoon? Fresh from the pot!”

“No thanks.” Sabrina callously told her with a flick of her wrist. “We'll take a pot of peppermint rooibos, a baker's dozen of ladyfingers, and a single black coffee.”

“Sure thing!” the server girl agreed, writing it down on the notepad before heading to the back kitchen.

Sabrina and Max continued to have idle talks with themselves while they waited. There was no one else in this world that Sabrina could tolerate meaningless talks than with Max. They both said whatever was on their mind as it came. Thankfully, time away meant that they had plenty to reflect on. Unfortunately, it meant that at some point, current matters were going to be brought up as well.

She should have really asked to have a refill of hot water for the tea pot before even breathing Ventus's name.

“You just left him?!”

Sabrina groaned as she rubbed her temples. “Yeah...” she groaned. “His dad… I just hate his dad so much, Max. Then he started talking about marriage, and trying to convince Ven into whatever shady deal he's got going next, and it was just… Just…!” She looked up at Max to give a gesture of strangling an invisible neck, and it was enough to convey the message.

“All because your least favorite coworker was getting married as well?”

“And, like, everyone else around us! Ven's brother, two other guys from the station. How about we just chill for a hot second and realize that a ring isn't the only indicator of a good relationship?”

“You really should have gotten chamomile.” Max noted as he watched Sabrina take a rather long slip of her tea.

“Peppermint's better for stress.” she shot at him.

“If you say so,” Max replied, throwing his hands in the air to show innocence. Sabrina glared at him, but relented with a heavy sigh. Max looked her over. She had gone back to rubbing her temples and muttering rather unkind things under her breath. He had never really seen her in conflict before- or at least, this much conflict. Which meant he had to ask. Someone had to.

“Would things really change that much if you did marry him?”

Sabrina clung to the side of her head, her fingers clenching in her hair.

“No.” she finally admitted in a small grumble. “Just a different check box to fill when tax season comes around. It's the only excuse I can really think of. We're already living together, have at least one joint bank account because of it, and all that domestic bliss. We even have a chore chart, like a bunch of kids.”

“So what's holding you back?”

Sabrina grimaced -her teeth grinding- as her whole body tensed. Carefully, Max placed a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the sole intention of smacking him away. But in seeing his sincere expression, she nearly started crying.

“Maxie,” she quietly told him “Is it bad I'd rather give him a kid than tie the knot?”

“Definitely unorthodox.” he mused with a solemn nod. “Maybe they feel like less of an obligation? You know the deal; some parents just drop their kids off to whoever, or just don't pay attention to them. Then they turn around and brag they're the best parents ever.”

“I can't do that to him.” she heavily sighed. “I just can't. And even then, I don't think I'm ready for a kid. Or any drama that happens during or after the pregnancy. Maybe when I'm 30? But doing so now just makes me sick.”

“Ah,” was all Max could say. He went into thought over this development. When a new idea came to him, he snapped his fingers as if he had solved a major mystery. “You said Oswald's making you take the next month off from work, right? Maybe it's time for a change.”

“Max,” Sabrina told him, even rather condescendingly placing a hand on top of his. “I am not going full Britney Spears and shaving my hair off. The mental breakdown was enough.”

“No,” he laughed, “Nothing like that. Look, you used to love dancing. Right? Roxanne is a teacher at the local dance studio. She mostly teaches the younger kids, but she's been itching for private lessons in her off time. Go take the edge off a bit. Do some pivots off the mirror, or spin around a lamppost for a hot second. Be that dramatic princess I know you are. Be yourself. I mean, it's not like Oswald's gonna let you head back into work right away anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Next you'll be telling me that I should start writing a novel.”

“Well, I mean, if that's what you need...”

It hurt, but Sabrina forced herself to laugh. She looked up at Max and just smiled.

“I can't believe I know a lot of good guys.” she laughed, leaning over a bit to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Maxie.”

Max let out a shy little laugh as his face lit up a scarlet red.

[livesincerely]

it’s written in bold letters, ch. 1

(aka, the letterman jacket fic. Also on Ao3)

00000

Jack had thought this would go without saying, but apparently not. “You are not wearing that to the game tonight.”

Davey looks down at himself, visibly confused. “Why not?”

Jack points out the obvious problem. “It’s green.”

“So?��

“Green is Westpoint’s color.”

Davey looks at him, nonplussed.

“Dave, you can’t wear the other team’s color to our first home game of the season,” Jack explains with a sigh. “Especially not when we’re going up against  Westpoint.”

“But I like this hoodie,” Davey says with a pout. “It’s comfortable.”

Jack shakes his head. “You gotta change into something else. Don’t you have anything red?”

“Yeah, sure, in my closet. At home.” Davey retorts. “This is all I brought with me, and no,” Davey amends quickly when Jack starts to interject, "I can’t just wear my t-shirt. It’s supposed to be cold later and I am not sitting out on the bleachers all night without at least a jacket.”

“You can borrow something of mine,” Jack counters.

Davey huffs out a breath, “Do I really have to?” 

“Just go upstairs and change,” Jack says, shooing Davey towards the stairwell.

“But I’m comfortable,” Davey grumbles, but he obediently trudges up the stairs.

“Pick something red!” Jack calls after him. “Oh, and tell Racetrack to move his ass! I’ve gotta be in the locker room in half an hour and we still have to pick up Crutchie from the library.”

“Calm your shit, Jack, I’m coming!” Racetrack shouts back from somewhere above him before Davey can respond. “Give a man a second to piss, will ya!”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Just hurry up!”

He finishes gathering his things together while he waits, grabbing a few bottles of Gatorade and a handful of granola bars and stuffing them into his bag. He’s just lacing up his sneakers when he hears footsteps behind him.

“Jack, Katherine’s just texted me—she wants to know where we’re eating after the game,” Davey says as he wanders back into the living room.

“I dunno Davey, anywhere is fine… by…” Jack trails off, suddenly speechless. Davey is wearing his letterman jacket.  Davey is wearing his—

Jack’s mouth goes dry. It feels like someone’s hit him, hard, right between the eyes.

“Jack?” Davey absently  prompts when Jack doesn’t continue, looking at his phone. “Did you hear what I said?”

Jack doesn’t answer, can’t answer. His eyes rake over Davey’s form: red is a fantastic color on him—it stands out against his dark hair and emphasizes the blue of his eyes. They’re nearly the same height but Davey isn’t as broad as Jack is, so the jacket is just the slightest bit too big for him, hanging down to the tops of his thighs and dwarfing his shoulders.

Davey chooses this moment to notice Jack’s staring; a delicious flush of pink blooms across his face. “You said I could wear anything red!” he says defensively. “This is red!”

“You’re wearing my letterman jacket,” Jack says, and his voice comes out low and raspy.

“You said something red!” Davey insists, somehow mistaking Jack’s tone for disapproval, his blush deepening further. “But all you had was t-shirts and I didn’t want to be cold and—and Racetrack said you wouldn’t mind!”

He fiddles with the sleeves as he rambles, and fucking hell, they’re so long on him that only the tips of his fingers are visible. “He said you wouldn’t mind, but, uh, I can put on something else if you want me t-“

“No!” Jack growls, startling them both. He takes a deep breath and tries to get a hold of himself before he does something drastic. “No, Dave, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Davey asks, still a little hesitant.

“Positive,” Jack assures him, though he’s anything but. “We can’t have you out there in just anything, now can we? Gotta make sure you’re repping for the team. Besides, you look-“

Fucking amazing. Goddamn perfect. Like you’re mine.

“-good.”

“Go team,” Davey says with a wry grin, looking at Jack through his fringe. His eyes are very, very blue. Jack is abruptly aware of how utterly screwed he is.

“That’s the spirit, Dave.” Fingers suddenly numb, Jack digs out his keys and tosses them over, then manages to to say in a somewhat normal tone of voice, “go start the car, will ya? I’m gonna go drag Racer away from the bathroom mirror—Coach will bench me if I’m late again.”  

Davey shrugs and heads out the door, blind as ever to the havoc he wreaks on Jack just by existing. Jack stuffs his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Davey as he walks by, biting back the groan that threatens to tear its way out of his throat when he catches sight of his back: KELLY is stamped across Davey’s shoulders in bold, white letters.

Fuck.

Fuck.

 He’s gonna murder Racetrack.

00000

The drive to the school is an exercise in self-restraint.

Jack is incredibly aware of Davey in the passenger seat, playing with his phone and thumbing idly at the buttons on his—Jack’s—jacket. Racetrack is absolutely no help, the shithead, smirking and wagging his eyebrows suggestively at Jack whenever their gazes meet in the rear-view mirror and just generally relishing in Jack’s pain. Things only get worse when they swing by the library. Crutchie clambers into the backseat with a suspiciously wide grin—it’s clear that Race has already roped him into this latest episode of “Let’s-Fuck-With-Jack!" The two of them settle into a quiet, intense discussion, peppered with bursts of snickering and oh-so-deliberate glances at Jack.

By the time he turns into the student parking lot, Jack’s feeling thoroughly hunted, driving with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He pulls into a space a touch more abruptly than he means to, but you know what? He’s fucking entitled, seeing as how he’s caught in a goddamn conspiracy. 

He leaves the others to get settled in the bleachers, making his way to the locker room with his eyes trained carefully on the ground, where it’s safe and boring and unstimulating. Once there, Jack can distract himself by talking with the other guys on the team or working through some pre-game warm ups. 

It also helps that Davey’s not within arms’ reach or his direct line of sight anymore.

Spot arrives a little after Jack does, tossing his duffle down on the bench with a thud. He takes one look at Jack’s face and snorts.

“So you’re the reason Racetrack’s blowing up my phone?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “I haven’t hadda chance to check my messages yet—what’s he harassing you about now?”

“Well, I wouldn’t wanna spoil the surprise,” Jack grouses.

“Oh, so, it’s about Davey,” Spot surmises. “What is this, the third time this week? Christ, Kelly, get a hobby. Or fuck, just grow a pair and makeout with the guy, put the rest of us outta our misery.”

“Shuddup,” Jack says, even as a flush creeps up the back of his neck. He can tell the exact moment that Spot starts looking through his missed texts because he lets out a bark of laughter.

“I take it back: keep on being a moron because this shit is hilarious,” Spot says. He’s scrolling avidly through his messages. “Jesus, this is funniest thing that’s happened in months.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Jack mutters. He considers slapping the phone out of Spot’s hand but quickly dismisses the idea—he likes his fingers arranged just the way they are, thanks.

Spot pauses on a particular message, then starts cracking up. Jack briefly debates the merits of knowing what’s being said about him versus remaining blissfully ignorant; unable to resist, he glances over and regrets it immediately. Racetrack has managed to sneak of picture of Jack’s initial reaction to The Incident, and it’s just as bad as Jack had imagined. Racetrack has captioned the picture with LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a bunch of cry-laughing faces because he’s the fucking worst.

“Channel some of that sexual frustration into tonight’s game and we’ll send Westpoint home cryin,’” Spot manages to choke out between laughs.

“I fucking hate all of you,” Jack says. 

00000

There’s only seconds left on the clock. 

Jack steadies himself, throws....

  The pass connects.

  The crowd explodes into motion almost before Jack can process what’s happened, but they’ve done it. They’ve won.

Jack rips off his helmet and lifts it over his head, both arms thrown up in triumph. They’re all shouting and laughing and cheering, a victory anthem playing over the loudspeaker. He happens to turn back towards the stands and somehow manages to pick Davey out of the mass of people. 

Jack’s arm falls back to his side, his helmet thunking hollowly against his leg. This is what they mean by tunnel vision, he realizes suddenly, but it’s a distant thought. The roar of the crowd, the jostling and screaming of the team celebrating their win, it all fades away. There’s nothing to hear but the deafening sound of his pulse beating in his ears, nothing to see except Davey steadily fighting his way through the sea of cheering spectators that have flooded the field.

He’s still wearing Jack’s letterman.

“Oh my god, Jack, you were amazing! That was—” Davey’s already talking a mile a minute, but it’s like Jack doesn’t have the brain cells to listen to Davey and look at Davey at the same time, and the looking must take priority. His face is flushed pink from the cold but his eyes are all but sparkling in his excitement. His hair is a disaster—Jack imagines him sitting in the stands, raking his hands anxiously through his hair as the game rocked through its final minutes. Someone, probably Katherine or Crutchie, has drawn a #12 on his cheek in black marker.

He’s very pretty. He’s very close.

 He’s still wearing Jack’s letterman.

Davey’s hand lands on Jack’s arm, and it breaks through the haze.

“-ck? Jack are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” Davey asks, peering at Jack worriedly. “Your pupils are dilated—I mean, really dilated. Are you okay?”

Jack swallows, licks his lips, blinks. 

He starts to answer, but he’s honestly afraid of what’ll come out of his mouth, so he decides a tactical retreat is in order: he murmurs something unintelligible, then turns on his heel and all but runs back to the locker room.

When Spot comes to find him some fifteen minutes later, he’s toweling his hair dry after a very cold shower.

“Are you actually hurt or are you just freaking out again?” Spot asks, “because whatever you did has got Davey all concerned.”

“I’m not gonna make it,” Jack says frankly, staring into the middle distance. “I literally can’t look at him directly, he’s too fucking pretty. My heart’s gonna give out. I’m gonna keel over and die. My dick is gonna swell up and—”

“Jesus,” Spot mutters. He digs Jack’s clean t-shirt out of his bag and lobs it at his head. Jack doesn’t even make an attempt at catching it: it hits him in the chest and falls into his lap with a soft fuwmp.

“Not that this ain’t funny as shit, but I’m gonna need you to put aside your bisexual yearning for, like, two seconds and get dressed,” Spot says, rolling his eyes. “I want onion rings and you’re holding us up.”

Jack looks at him. "I'm in distress," he laments. "Does no one care that I'm in distress?"

"Onion rings, Kelly," Spot says, ignoring Jack completely. "Hurry the fuck up."

Jack sighs, but does as he's told. Guess it's time for round three.

Rest in fucking pieces.

[marvinswriting]

football

hurt/comfort(/hurt?) three :))

prompt: tinies becoming suddenly aware of their size/Shane omen is a bully, Marvin, write him

Jesus if you insist

GENERALIZED TW: death (fear of it, mentioned, and/or, actual death); harassment; d slur

G/T MEAN GIRLS AU

How did I get in this position?

Being out in the courtyard alone went against every rule I set for myself. 

Not only was I alone, but I also didn't tell anyone where I was. Nobody knew to look for me.

It was my study hall. 

I thought I could just chill in the tiny area, doodle a bit, and get fresh air. 

"Space dyke. I'm talking to you."

I know. I'm hoping if I ignore you, you'll go away.

"Yo, spa-"

"Yes?" I snap my head up, glaring at Shane. Quite frankly, I'm just fucking annoyed. 

He seems taken aback by my attitude before a frown crosses his face. "Snappy eh? What's wrong with you."

"Please leave me alone," I say, pulling out my phone. I need to let someone know where I am before this gets bad. 

"Hey!" Shane snaps his fingers, causing me to flinch up. "Phone down. I'm talking to you."

As much as I want to send Damian a text, I know its best not to give Shane a reason to fuck with me. 

"Yes?" I say. There's mild annoyance in my voice that I don't bother hiding.

Shane grins but its condescending. It makes my skin crawl.

"Actually, I should be going." I say, quickly grabbing my bad and standing up.

"No, you're not going anywhere."

He grabs me off the platform. 

"Why are you doing this?!" I squirm in his grip but it's not working.

This went from zero to one hundred very fast.

Shane goes to respond but the bell rings, to his dismay and my delight.

He drops me back onto the platform, but it's not far. Maybe a human foot. I've taken worse.

"You tinies are so easy to fuck with." He states. "And so trusting of humans. Maybe not me, but do you really think your bigger friends care? That girl from Africa only got introduced to tinies last year. I'd give it time before she realizes its much more fun to fuck with you rather than be nice to you. I'm surprised your other friends haven't either. Karen's always been slow, yeah that's on her. But Gretchen and that gay kid? Do you actually think they enjoy the company of an annoying and dependent tiny? Tinies are just walking hazards. Literally anything hurts you. It's so annoying."

Wow, so we went from physical abuse to verbal. Sweet.

I stand shakily and turn away to the tiny entrance to the school. Shane keeps talking over my shoulder but I don't listen. 

He's wrong.

Right?

He has to be.

'I'd give it time before she realizes its much more fun to fuck with you rather than be nice to you.'

Cady wouldn't do that.

She cares too much.

Yeah, her initial over protective worrying nature over tinies didn't fade, but that didn't mean she wasn't adjusted. It just meant she cared.

I walked through the hall in a daze. I'm vaguely aware that I'm bumping into other students as I walked to the tiny pick up zone, but I paid their dirty glares no mind.

Not everyone says tinies are playthings. It wasn't that Karen was slow or that Gretchen and Damian were weird. Its that the simply saw the value in tiny lives.

Right?

I continue my zoned out trek around the tiny section of the school. I think I can do it with my eyes closed at this point as I put no concentration into where I'm going. 

Not everyone thought like Shane Omen. Some people cared about tiny lives. 

Right?

I make my way to the tiny pick up zone.

"Hey, Jan!" Damian is already there, with a big grin on his face.

His smile is contagious and as always when I'm with him, my worry fades.

"Damian!" I climb onto his hand and he brings me to his shoulder. We have lunch with the whole group today, plastics included. 

"So, how was study hall?"

"Good." I lie. I feel bad about lying to Damian, but I don't need him to get all worried if he knows I ran into Shane Omen.

We make out way into the cafeteria to see Cady, Gretchen, and Karen sitting at the center table, normally reserved for only plastics. As Damian walks closer I see Regina and Aaron too, obviously. 

"Hello, everyone!" Damian says sitting next to Cady. I slip down his arm and onto the table ignoring his gasp.

"Janis."

"Yes?" I throw up jazz hands with a smile. 

"Don't-"

"Do that. I know."

"And she does it anyway," Regina says with a fond smile.

Fuck Shane Omen. These are my friends. They care about me. 

I think.

Cady talks about her mathletes competition coming up and we all listen as we eat. I was leaning against Damian's forearm with Regina across from me. Aaron was on Cady's shoulder. 

Loser.

As if she's thinking the same thing as me, Regina blows a raspberry at Aaron.

"What?" He called out with a laugh.

"Table gang." Regina says with a dead straight face.

"Tabe gang?!" I ask, letting out a laugh.

"Yes." Regina's monotone voice doesn't falter but she lets a small grin slip which she instantly pushed down. "Table gang. Come on down Aaron."

"That sounds so threatening. I'll stay up here."

Regina tsks, shaking her head. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." She gets up. "Cady stay still."

"What?" The mathlete asks, watching with concern as Regina climbs up onto her arm.

"Jesus Christ, Janis, look what you did!" Aaron laughs. 

"How is this my fault!"

"You're all rubbing off on each other." Damian shakes his head. "If it's for better or worse it's debatable. 

Regina reaches Cady's shoulder and shoves Aaron off. 

Cady gasps, her hand shooting out to catch Aaron. 

"Regina!"

She shrugs. "Got him down."

Cady places Aaron on the table and scoops Regina onto the table too. "Please don't give me a heart attack."

"I'll try. But for the record that's boring." Regina says, examining her nails.

We all laugh a bit. It feels nice, periods like this where we can all just hang out.

"Heads!" A voice calls from over at the varsity jocks table. 

I gasp as a football lands like a foot (in tiny measurements) away from me. 

Holy shit.

It rolls a little stopping in the center of the table. I'm frozen in shock, curled up close to Damian. 

Holy fucking shit!

I could have died just there.

Crushed by a fucking football.

A jock comes running over to the table, apologizing profusely and retrieving the ball. I think he's apologizing more for hitting a ball near the plastics then almost killing me though.

We all kinda sit in a silent shock as he walks away.

The playful energy at the table a couple of seconds ago is gone. 

I shakily pat down my body to make sure I am in fact- still here.

"You-" Aaron swallows. "Jesus Christ. Janis are you okay?"

"It missed," I say weakly throwing up jazz hands. It does nothing to clear the tense air though. "I think."

"You think?" Gretchen asked.

I shrug. "It was so close I don't even know."

I look up to Damian and he's still staring wide-eyed. "I thought it hit you at first."

"We all did." Karen says.

I shift under the intense concern everyone is throwing me.

He had a point.

"I'm fine, guys!" I hate having people worry about me or get sappy or- ew.

"I thought it hit you." Damian repeated. "Oh my god."

I would be dead.

A stupid football would be my cause of death.

The same object tossed around for game could kill me. 

Tinies are just walking hazards. Literally anything hurts you. It's so annoying.

Shane's words from earlier echo in my head.

He- he wasn't wrong.

As much as I hated to admit it. 

I wasn't even four inches tall. 

I was surrounded by people who could take advantage of me and just scoop me up without me being able to fight back.

They're my friends and wouldn't.

But they could.

Because I'm small and insignificant. 

I can literally fit into Damian's hands.

A football almost killed me.

"Jan?" I look up. Damian's voice is soft and it matched the worry in his eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

"I almost died." It comes out as a whisper. I know Damian can't hear it. The cafeteria is loud and buzzing. Still, Damian scoops me up. He holds me carefully to his chest, his hands cupping me protectively.

Its all I need in the moment to feel safe. 

Damian's presence seems to be all I ever need to feel safe.

I can hear the conversation slowly and tentatively start up again at the table, but I just concentrate on Damian's heartbeat. The way his hands are warm. Even though my body was shaking as it came down from an adrenaline rush, I felt secure.

No matter how small I was, or how insignificant other people thought tinies lives were, I knew I could count on all my friends. Especially Damian.

No,,,, she didn't die yET

@realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

[voidcat]

of Pamphlets & Bass Guitars

– The Impromptu Debate

Word Count: 1.2k

I’ll add my actual Author’s Notes at the end to clear things up & not spoil the chapter.

Pamphlets (ch3) | chapter 4 | chapter 5 (coming soon)

ao3 – masterlist

Your eyes trail on the each face in the room. The group of boys first, they all look so smug and sure of themselves. You want to punch those expressions off their faces. Then the teachers and the vice principal, each with a face that says “I can’t believe I’m wasting my time here.”. Its still a wonder to you why some people choose a career involving the young and education when they clearly dislike it.

Eyes going through the room, examining one by one, avoiding the not-so-kind gazed of girls who only increase in minutes. With dread, your eyes find Oikawa’s at last.

Maybe a minute of staring and you sign in defeat. “Okay, go on. Tell me how you got that scar, you brave war hero.”

“So you see, it was around lunch break when I walked into those assholes with a scheme as low as themselves. Usually when a girl alone walked by, one of them drops something or pretends to walk into them, make something that will cause the girl to bend or pick something up from the ground. And the rest just enjoy- what did they call it again?... ‘The show’.” He says the last part with finger quotes.

“And what? You watched the pull this crap all break?”

“No, no! I came at them the moment I first saw it. I learnt the full story from one of them, during a poorly attempted comeback. And as you can see-“ hand showing his bruise again “-it ended in a fight.”

You just give him an unconvinced look. Just how stupid does he think you are, thinking you’d fall for such a badly written story…

“Look, believe me or not, it’s what happened. Hell! Ask Iwa-Chan, anyone knows he hates lying, he saw it happen too.”

“Oikawa, he is your best friend.”

“A best friend who never shows that to me obviously. He wouldn’t lie even if his life was on the line.” He has a point, you can’t help but think. Iwaizumi was known for always following the rules, despite being friends with that seaweed-for-brains.

“Whatever, I’ll mention this if I can find an opening for it. We need proof or a witness though and I don’t see Iwaizumi-san anywhere.”

“I’ll get him if needed, don’t ya worry your pretty head about it!- Ouch!” Maybe Not your strongest hit but a hit on the arm is enough to shut him up. From the way he keeps [ovalamak] his arm, it’s clear your message is received.

After a not so long wait, you begin speaking without addressing anyone in the room. If they want an unofficial debate, that’s what you will give them. No respect to those who don’t respect or care for others.

“I can begin my speech with years long of patriarchy and how it shaped and affected society. But it’d be too long and we’d all be dead before it could ever be finished. I can mention the long going cases of abuse, harassment, rape and murder. How it’s always the victim blamed when it’s convenient yet how everyone goes silent when the said victim is found in a “modest” set of clothing or make up. But this, is however, is a very grim topic and can affect some of us here badly. Honestly, it is quite unbelievable how we have to defend why we want more open clothing options. The other side are only here because they like to watch girls with long legs walk, they like to peep at our skirts, bother and harass us then go and say how it is not their fault since the skirts are too short. If I really have to present a recent harassment case like this, I have Oikawa Tooru as a witness and some girls who were direct targets. I’ve noticed how some of our teachers like to think we exaggerate the things we have to endure almost on a daily basis. Give the option of skirts and pants for everyone, equally. So the next time it happens, because it will happen, as sad as it sounds, we will have proof that we were never exaggerating in the first place.” By the time you’re done talking, you notice you’re out of breath.

Watching the teachers whisper among themselves and ‘the opposite side’ texting on their phones as if they’re here for nothing, you can sense Oikawa vibrating with energy and enthusiasm. “Good job cap.” He whispers your way. You just nod in response and turn to look at the girls here. Some of them have an incomprehensible expression on their faces. You can guess the why of it.

Half an hour of whispering and arguing, you get an answer as close to a yes. Everyone starts leaving one by one as you wait for the crowd to dispense. For some reason, so does Oikawa.

As you two walk outside, he crosses his arms behind his head, giving you a side glance. “So what do you say… Would you like to come watch me practice?” And as expected, he finishes with a wink.

“I’d rather get shipped to Antarctica.” With that, you walk away without sparring a glance.

“Hello Iwaizumi-san.” He looks surprised to see you. Makes sense, you suppose. You don’t recall a time you came to Seiji’s classroom to talk to someone that wasn’t him.

“Oh, hello. Did you need something?”

“In a matter of fact, yes. Yesterday when you were talking to Oikawa… Why did you act like that and sighed after seeing me?” He avoids your gaze at the question then sighs as if a long and tiring day at work has just come to an end.

“Nothing serious, really. Shittykawa here has developed a new, what I’m hoping to be another, short-lived obsession. This time on that anonymous writer.” He looks at you once before continuing. “Except, it has gotten worse in the past week. At first it was finding out the person behind it. Crazy theories and all. And now, for some reason, he is convinced that person is you. Naturally, when I saw him yesterday, I thought it was another attempt of his ‘undercover’ operations.”

You don’t breath out a single word during the entire time. You can feel your palms starting to sweat. Just how exactly did he get so close to it? Was that what yesterday was all about? How long have his undercover research or whatever been going? How much does he know? With a rushed ‘thank you’ to Iwaizumi and you walk out of the classroom.

Is that worry you’re feeling? Fear?

Why would you? What could he have against you to use?

You consider going to Seiji, discuss it with him, have a plan or a set of actions to follow. As you start walking, you’re stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“There she is! The man of the hour! How are you today you feral beast? Oikawa told us how you lashed out at ‘em yesterday, givin’ a taste of your poison…”

You don’t respond. You don’t even hear Makki talk.

Eyes glued to a spot ahead of you, almost hidden by the shadows. And there stands Oikawa Tooru, staring at you with a look you can only call ‘hostile’.

 A/N: Hello! I think the “debate” or whatever you want to call it in this chapter may sound unconvincing to some people so I wanted to clear some things up.

I hope this doesn’t sound braggy but I was attending a high school that was in the top 5 in the country for years and most of our interactions with the administration went like this. Bureaucracy almost never worked, you could file in a report or a letter of complaint about an issue but it’d usually go unnoticed. (We legit protested the principal of that year one morning, it made the news and pissed of the bigots in the country ahahah.)

Also there was a harassment case one year, this happened among underclassmen (9th graders, I was a senior) and we didn’t hear of it until it was too late to do something. What happened was worse than what I wrote here but yea there was a fight involved too lol. So yeah,, my point is things like that happen. The teachers usually don’t give a shit about the students and some students look after one another to cover up their messes. I wanted the reader’s opening speech to be something better but with the recent news in the country, I feel emotionally and mentally exhausted, sorry. 

I hope this wasn’t so long and thank you if you read til the end. Feel free to send in asks, worries, talk about your day in the ask box etc etc. I’m always open to ranting & talking.

[whysperingwoods]

My mom’s phone has been doing this thing for months where every time she plugs it in to charge, it goes berserk and starts selecting random things, calling people, opening apps, etc. Usually if she switches off the screen it’s fine and it stops, but last night for some reason it started calling me at 4AM. 

I’m usually up at that time anyway so it was fine, but I answered and the other end of the line was just dead air. I was like okay whatever, because I know her phone does this weird thing, so I hang up but it keeps calling me back. So I start to get worried and thinking maybe something is wrong, like what if something is going on and she’s actually in trouble (she lives alone). I try to call her back and it doesn’t answer. I tell myself okay, it’s just her phone being weird... so I drop it, and I don’t get any calls back. 

Then about at hour later, I get another call from her. I pick up again, still dead air on the other line. I’m straining to try and listen if there’s anything at all like breathing or rustling or any kind of indication that there’s something happening, but I can’t hear anything. I text her and call her back because I figure if she is asleep at some point, she’ll hear it ringing and it will at least wake her up and she can tell me if everything is okay but no answer. 

I’m in between debating if I should be worried or if this is just her fucked up phone issues when I get a text from her: “Je suis indisponible..” (I am unavailable..” Just like that, TWO dots, not three. First of all, my mom would never write that. It’s too formal. I think to myself okay, maybe this is her phone being weird again and it sent one of those pre-made texts. But then I look again. TWO DOTS. Two dots. Not three, two. If it was pre-made, it would have used the proper THREE dots for an ellipses or, more likely, just one dot. So in my tiny brain that is not suited for maths I’m trying to calculate the probability of her phone ACCIDENTALLY calling me so many times and then ACCIDENTALLY sending me a text and then ACCIDENTALLY either erasing one dot, or adding a second dot. I come to the very precise result of: not super likely. 

Enter panic mode. Something is going on. She’s not okay, she’s probably got an attacked there who maybe has even sent that last message trying to pose as her or something. Maybe he noticed she was trying to call me and is now trying to stop me from worrying about her. But what an IDIOT what a COMPLETE FOOL who is “unavailable” at 5AM?? 

I keep trying to call her while also messaging my aunt on Facebook (because I’m a terrible son and don’t have her phone number) to drive to my mom’s place and check on her. At the same time I have another tab open trying to figure out how to call police in a different city, because I’m pretty sure calling 911 would route to my city and I live 2h away, right?? While I’m calling her I get an email, from my mom, totally empty with just the subject “Mo”. 

Mo? Who the fuck is Mo?? 

I’m staring at the email, running through the names of everyone we know. This is obviously the name of her attacker. My mom does online dating, so I’m trying to think of a way to get into her profile to see if there have been any creepy messages lately. She is terrible at passwords, it’s going to be either my birthday, my brother’s birthday, or the name of her old dog. There was one guy who harassed her for like a year and was calling her sister and being a huge creep until she finally told me about it and I showed her how to block people on social media, I’m scouring my brain trying to remember his name...

My phone starts to ring again. My mom is calling me. I answer again, straining to hear through the dead air ANYTHING to indicate there is life in the room beyond. I hear a raspy “Hello?” and I say “Mom? Are you okay?” 

She tells me she’s fine, but she sounds super weird. I ask her if there’s anyone there with her, and she says no. I’m still trying to hear for anything in the background, another voice or something, but it’s quiet. She asks me why I called and I tell her she called me first, tell her about the text and the email. The more I talk to her, the more I realize... she’s half asleep. She is not injured, not kidnapped, she’s in fucking bed safe and sound and groggy. She gasps and says “oh my god”, my heart stops for a second, and she whispers “the cat is sleeping on my bed!” and I’m like... okay mom, go back to sleep. She just got her first cat and has been waiting a month for her to cuddle on the bed... sighs. 

I talked to my mom again later in the day when I came back from my training thing, and she DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER TALKING TO ME. I had to tell her again about the calls, the texts, the emails, etc, and she was like “huh I guess I should get a new phone soon.” I told her not soon, tomorrow!! And she didn’t seem to grasp the importance until I said imagine if your phone had picked your boss instead of your favourite son to harass, and then she said she would go get a new phone today... smh. Some people’s kids, man. 

[cravingcrazewriting]

youwillbefound.org

Trigger Warning- Mentions of suicide attempt and suicidal thoughts.

youwillbefound.com is a safe haven for any troubled teens/young adults who are looking for someone to find them. This site intends on being a place to reach out to others and to find them as you wold want yourself. Harassment is strictly prohibited. If we find you are abusing this site to target and harass people who are suicidal then you will be banned firstly for a week, secondly for a month, and thirdly will be a permanent ban and removal of your account. We hope you find whatever you're looking for on youwillbefound.com and we wish you the best of luck! Have a fantastic day!

What was Evan doing?

It wasn't like him to get a social media. It wasn't like him to rely so much on people, but yet he did, for no reason whatsoever. He did meet someone who he could trust, and needed help as much as he did. It was nice. He only had a few other friends who friended him out of pity.

He was currently on his laptop, writing his therapy letter, when he heard his phone go off.

HighandAllMighty: hey dude, wuts up?

Evan made a smile. High, that's what Evan nicknamed him due to privacy issues, was one of his closest friends, he'd even call him a best friend. High suffered from Anxiety and Bipolar, and had a very hard time making friends due to all of his outbursts. On the internet, he was able to calm himself down and not act rashly, but sometimes would assume the worst and snap at Evan a few times, but when that did happen, he'd awake to multiple apologizes from High.

High admitted to smoking openly, from cigarettes to weed, mainly because the way it calmed him down and less likely to snap at people. Evan didn't really mind this, since High's parents didn't get him any medication to him. If it helped, then that was that.

AnAnxiousTeen: Nothing much, just sitting in bed. I might write my therapy letter soon. What about you?

HighandAllMighty: sweet. Honestly I'm just dazing in and out atm. Me and my family just ate and my dad is trying to start shit again. HighandAllMighty: so the usual bs

AnAnxiousTeen: I'm so sorry.. I wish I could help you.

HighandAllMighty: Nah, don't be. U should probably start your letter.

AnAnxiousTeen: Well you know I hate writing them so I'd rather not heh

HighandAllMighty: hey, can I ask u something kinda important?

AnAnxiousTeen: Sure! Ask away!

HighandAllMighty: can we FaceTime? HighandAllMighty: I know u might not want to bc of ur anxiety HighandAllMighty: it was just something I wanted to try, if you wanted to at least

AnAnxiousTeen: I'm.. not sure.. I need time to think this over. AnAnxiousTeen: My mom is still home, so I can't right now.

HighandAllMighty: I understand. It's ok

Evan was trying not to freak out.

He was scared. He was scared he'd disappoint High. Incredibly scared of the mental image he imaged him looking like and being a huge let down and not being able to say anything and make things ten times worse than what they are and-

"Honey! I'm heading out! There's a twenty on the counter! Please get something to eat while I'm gone! Love you, bye!" Heidi called from downstairs, pulling Evan out of his thoughts. A moment later a door closing could be heard.

Evan sighed and ran his fingers through his messy blonde hair. There was another complication; he had completely fallen for High, one hundred percent in love.

HighandAllMighty: ah man, I'm rlly srry. My dad is gonna take my phone. HighandAllMighty: we'll talk later, k?

AnAnxiousTeen: I understand. I'll see you when you get back!

HighandAllMighty: in one week. Bye bud

Evan laid down on his bed. A whole week?! This obviously wasn't the first time it happened, but would that stop him from missing him? No. Definitely not. It'd be a lonely week without him.

This would be a long week

~~~ It was only Tuesday.

High had his phone taken on Saturday, so they were completely out of touch for tree days straight so far, and Evan was miserable and lonely.

Evan was sitting in his room, unenthusiastically working on homework. He was sinking into a depressive state. He'd never admit to it, but there was something wrong, that he just wasn't happy. He let out a sigh, setting his pencil down and grabbing his phone. The only notifications he had was some posts from people he liked, and a text from Jared.

Jared K: U have math done?

Evan H: -Evan H has sent a picture-

Jared K: thanks

Well, that made Evan feel even more like shit. It made him feel like Jared would only miss him for his car insurance if he suddenly disappeared. Hell, his mom would have it easier if he was gone. And High.. he was just a burden to him. Fuck it, he needed to vent.

AnAnxiousTeen has posted a status update: I'm always being told that things will get better, that I'll find someway to deal with my social anxiety, but nothing is seeming to be working. No one would notice if I suddenly left, if this account was suddenly shut down, maybe except for @HighandAllMighty but if I'm being honest, I'd be doing him a favor. I wish that things were different. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. Because let's face it. Would anyone here notice if I disappeared tomorrow?

After posting his update, he got a handful of responses, that mainly said stuff among the lines of "I'd notice! Please don't do anything rash!". It didn't feel real to Evan. He knew how this stuff worked. After a week of his death, people would forget him. All he could think of was how thankful his anxiety held him back from another attempt.

AnAnxiousTeen has posted a status update: If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it ever make a sound?

There was a lot of debate about this one. No one saw the hidden subtext, that he fell-no, let go of the branch that was holding him and was now restrained to a cast. It made his stomach do a cartwheel at the thought.

AnAnxiousTeen has posted a status update: Sorry for all the depressing stuff tonight. I'm going offline to hit the hay early.

Well, that wasn't a total lie. He had homework to do first, then he'd probably lay in bed till sleep took him away.

And that's exactly what he did.

~~~ HighandAllMighty: why didn't you tell me how you were feeling?

High was back, early, and Evan was downright terrified.

Unlike before, he used almost perfect spelling and grammar, something he'd only do in serious situations. Evan hated confrontation, so so much.

AnAnxiousTeen: I'm sorry.. I didn't want to be a burden...

HighandAllMighty: you could never burden me with your problems. HighandAllMighty: we have to look out for each other, otherwise we'll loose us both. HighandAllMighty: I want to video chat with you. I want to see /you/. Let me help you. Please

Evan didn't really think when he answered. He didn't consider what his anxiety was telling him. He just had to make it up to High, especially with what he just put him through.

AnAnxiousTeen: Of course, just give me a few minutes to set up.

HighandAllMighty: thank you. I mean it

Evan let out a puff of air and set his phone down. His mom was home but sleeping, so he'd have to be quiet and not talk to loud, which wasn't a problem because he's.. him. He grabbed a set of dark blue headphones (he preferred them because they felt more comfortable on his ear) and plugged them into his phone. He made sure they worked okay and sent High a message.

AnAnxiousTeen: I'm ready. Can you send the request?

-HighandAllMighty has sent you a Face Time Request!-

-x Accept x or x Decline x-

Evan hesitantly hit the accept key and sat down on his bed, tidying up his shirt and hair while it loaded. Things'll be fine. They'll be perfectly okay. Just stay completely calm, don't fuck anything up, and your guys' friendship will be saved.

A minute later, the Face Time had finished loading, and on Evan's screen he was greeted to a pale skinned boy with long brown hair that went down to his shoulders, his eyes were blue but they had this brown glint to them that really made them stand out and made them so much more mesmerizing. He was wearing a simple black hoodie and the rest of his outfit Evan couldn't see.

The room Evan assumed was High's was messy, to say the least. Evan never understood how people could find what they needed in a mess. That's why he kept everything organized and clean, so if he needed to find anything, he could right away. It was an anxiety thing he couldn't get over. Evan also noticed the contrast of dark colors in High's room, that was mainly dark purple and black for the most part. Evan knew High enjoyed dark colors rather than light ones it made sense to why his room was painted that way.

Holy fuck was he hot or what?

"Um, hi! C-can you hear me o-okay?" Evan asked nervously, adjusting his headphones ever so slightly. He could hear some shuffling around so he took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, you're good. What about me on your end?" High asked, leaning back.

"Yo-you're good too," Evan nodded, confirming that he could hear him quite well. "Why did you w-want to call?"

"Well one, I wanted to see what you looked like, and two, I need to ask you a few other things, and this is the best way to see if you're lying or not," he simply said, shrugging his shoulders.

"O-okay, ask a-away," Evan smiled, shuffling slightly on his bed to get comfortable, waiting for whatever High was about to ask.

High inhaled, staying silent for a moment, before asking, "..Are you suicidal?"

Evan immediately tensed up. He hadn't put much thought into being depressed or suicidal, although he had those thoughts a lot he couldn't possibly be.. right? "I.. I don't know, a-actually... It could be a p-possibility, I do get suicidal thoughts and... a lot of self h-hate..."

High nodded slowly, picking at what appeared to be black nail polish. "Well, have you ever... attempted?"

Evan bit his lip, and he turned his gaze to his cast, although it wasn't planned, it still counted as one. He simply nodded his head. "It's.. s-scary..."

High let out a sigh. "I know the feeling all too well.. Just, wanting it all to end, but yet your anxiety is telling you not to, and you get so afraid.. I dunno, it's a reminder that you're still human I guess, attempting or not.."

"Honestly, it's m-my anxiety holding me b-back from trying a-again.. I'm scared I-I'll fail again.." Evan chuckled meekly, picking at his cast's plaster.

"Well, I'm glad," High smiled at him. "You don't know how much better you've made my life. I.. probably would've attempted again if I didn't know you.."

"Same with m-me. I'm.. so, so a-alone at school, I don't have any f-friends, and I was-well, still kinda- miserable. But, when we started t-talking, I didn't feel as alone a-anymore.." Evan admitted, blushing lightly.

"I wish I could meet you," High admitted. "I can tell no one's signed your cast still, and I really wanna fucking sign it. I.. I want to be by your side... Helping you order food, keeping you company, hell, I even know a few places down here you'd fucking adore and I know it.."

Evan smiled like a complete dork at these things. "That's s-so sweet.. You probably w-wouldn't like to meet me though.. I-I'd be so awkward.."

"Hey, don't put yourself down like that. I prefer awkward over cocky assholes any day," High said. "And like, not to mention you're a fucking amazing guy. Any girl would- fuck how do I phrase this?- well, she'd be pretty lucky to be with a guy like you," High told him, a noticeable blush appearing on his cheeks.

Evan blushed probably more than what he should've, but he couldn't help it. No one except his mom had said this type of stuff to him. "Honestly, t-thank you.."

"Okay, secondly, I need to tell you something really important. I hope it won't weird you out or anything but here it goes.. I really, really like you- and I don't mean that in the friendly way, I mean like- fuck this is harder to explain than I thought. Look.. I'm, head over heels in love with you, man.." High finished.

Evan was in pure shock. He had his hand on his mouth and felt like he could've cried. All that his mind could register was he liked him back. Holy fuck, he never thought he'd see the day his feelings would be returned. He could process words, he moved his hand away from his mouth, revealing a huge smile he was wearing and said hand anxiously ran through his hair.

"Holy f-fuck.. I.. I didn't think you'd l-like me back, so I never said anything.. Oh my god, t-this is incredible!" Evan admitted, watching the brunette's shocked expression turn into a smile.

"Holy shit, you actually like me?" High asked, and Evan nodded to him, he'd proudly admit to it, because now he had nothing else to loose.

"Does this mean we're like.. a thing or..?" High trailed off, and Evan laughed, saying, "Maybe! I t-think We should try."

High smiled at him, "I'd love to date you.. even if it's long distance.."

"Can I a-ask you something?" Evan smiled sheepishly, tugging lightly at his shirt while High responded with a "You can ask me anything you want to."

"What-what's your a-actual name?" Evan asked slowly, as stated earlier, they both kept their names a secret for privacy, but Evan was too curious to contain himself from keeping the question residing in his mind.

"It's Connor. What about you?" High- no, Connor returned his question, gazing at him with a loving gaze.

"I l-like to go by Evan.." Evan hoped that would satisfy him, because who'd want to date a guy with a name like Mark? No one, that's for sure.

"It suits you," Connor stated. "A wonderful name for a wonderful boy."

Evan flushed at his comment. "Well er- it's n-not as beautiful as 'Connor'. It, it fits you, so so well.."

"Are you calling me beautiful?" Connor teased him, and Evan just laughed.

The two ended up chatting for an entire two hours, enjoying whatever they could get out of each other's presence. They were both hopelessly in love, despite distance keeping them apart, they hoped they would one day meet in person.

That would be more than enough for them both.

A/N-I fucking love this AU so much?? I loved writing every second of it,and going over 2000 words better prove it.

Anyways I'm opening up requests! I don't have a lot of ideas so please request so I can keep updating this book! Thanks a ton!

[faketextstuff]

The Arrangement PT5

Summary:: You’ve never imagined yourself being a sugar baby but because of some playful friends and a stroke of luck, you find yourself with a man who is apparently willing to give you the moon and stars. The only problem is, no strings attached. Don’t catch feelings, don’t fall for a man who thinks money can solve all your issues and doesn’t want commitment outside of the contract.

Warnings: Angst

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

A/N:: I’m not happy with this chapter at all. I rewrote it 4 times and it still turned out like crap. I promise the good stuff is coming I just needed to introduce a few more people and give a bit of angst. I guess if you guys want a part 6 let me know. I’m sooooooo sorry this part isn’t good at all.

The next day went on as normal. Only a few texts from Yoongi throughout your day, a simple “Good morning, babygirl” and around lunch you got another text “Cant wait to see you tonight. Dont be late.” That was about it. He didnt call, to which you were glad. You were not allowed to have cellphones out at work but you still kept yours deep inside your apron at work. The closer it got time to get off, the more anxious you became. Were you really going on a date with your sugardaddy tonight? What was he expecting of you? What were you expecting of him? How was this relationship going to work. Your mind was a buzz with all the questions and causing you to become very distracted at work.

Shockingly today was much busier than a normal day. Your regular customers came in, but in the back booth near the restrooms sat a man you had never seen before. You remembered seeing him come in not long after your shift started and now you had been working for seven hours and he was still there. He had his laptop open and was busily typing away at something. It wasn’t uncommon for college students to come in and take advantage of the free Wifi your restaurant provided, but no one ever stayed for seven hours!

You chose to let the man be, and continue working the best you could. It was your last table of the night and you were carrying a tray full of half consumed glasses of red wine away from the table when out of no where, a customer pushed out their chair in front of you causing you to stumble and pour the whole tray of drinks all over yourself and the floor. A few droplets landing on the customer’s expensive looking white shoes.

You gasped, glancing down at your own red stained white shirt. “I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU! YOU CLUMSY OAF!” The customer wailed, intent on causing a scene.

“I’m so sorry!” You pleaded, bowing your head deeply in regret. “Are you alright?” You asked, glancing up through your now wine soaked hair.

The lady who had bumped into you was a rather beautiful woman. She had dyed blonde hair and appeared to be wearing expensive clothing that you had only ever seen in magazines. Her face was caked in make up but she still looked amazing and very elegant. Her expression, however, was cold and unforgiving as she glared daggers at you.

“No I’m not okay!” She squealed as everyone in the restaurant grew quiet and turned to see the scene unfolding before their very eyes. “These shoes cost a fortune and your clumsy little ass just ruined them!”

You weren’t sure how, but you managed to bow even lower, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I can pay to have them replaced.” This caused the lady to scoff and wad up her napkin, throwing it in your face. “As if a lowly server like you could afford even half of what it’ll cost to replace these shoes. They were a gift! You cant replace memories!”

Her words stung and burned like a fire. You knew you were well off but did she have to insult you like that? In front of so many people. “I’m so sorry.” You muttered as your boss pushed his way over towards you and the irate customer.

He stood next to you and bowed deeply. “I am the owner of this establishment, may I ask what just happened?” He asked, sending you a glare the moment you decided to glance over at him. You knew right away he wouldn’t have your back. He never had your back and he had been looking for legit reasons to fire you. The two of you had never had a good relationship since the day you refused to put up with his sexual harassment. He didn’t take well to your rejection but you both had agreed to at least try and work in peace. He’d leave you alone and not fire if you never spoke of his failed advances. Of course he never did anything physical, just a few lewd comments here and there and lingering eyes that made you uncomfortable.

“I’ll tell you what happened!” The lady screamed, pointing a well manicured finger at you, a look of disgust etched on her face. “Your employee just spilled red wine all over my shoes! These are irreplaceable!” Her voice quivered now as she spoke. Clearly she was putting on a show for your boss who was clearly buying it by shooting you glares every so often.

“It was an accident, I didn't mean to ruin her shoes.” You muttered in a small voice, your anger was building up with each passing minute.

Your boss just held up a hand, signaling you to stop speaking that moment. The angry look in his eyes turning into something much more sinister. You averted your gaze to the floor and you were sure that you would be looking for a new job in just a few short hours, he had been searching so long for a legit reason and this woman's rage would fit right into his plans. “I apologize miss, we normally dont allow such foolish mistakes to happen in our establishment. Rest assured I will make sure this never happens again.”

The lady scoffed and grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, tossing the expensive material over her dainty shoulders.  As she opened her mouth to speak, another voice came from behind you. “I believe you're overacting, Miss. It was clearly an accident on this young woman's part. Yours however is debatable.”

As you turned your head, you saw the man who had been sitting alone in the back booth all day walking up to the three of you. His smile was bright and very inviting, however his tone didn't match his warm friendly smile. His voice was dripping with venom as he spoke, standing right behind you. His dark gaze never once faltering from the woman's. You turned your eyes back to the women who had a deer in headlights look on her face, her face going pale. “Hoseok?” She muttered out, her body visibly tensing.

“I saw you watching this woman gathering up those wine glasses and you waited until she got right behind you to push your chair out. To anyone it would appear that you set up this girl to spill the wine all over herself.” The man spoke again, his head tilting to the side slightly.

“That’s ridiculous, Jung Hoseok!” The lady snapped back. Mention of the man's name caused the restaurant to erupt into whispers.

Your own eyes went wide and your head shot over to the man behind you, sure enough this was Jung Hoseok. You had seen him on TV many times, he was a famous dance instructor that was the head and face of many dance colleges and he worked with all the best idols, mapping out their dances. If anyone was dancing, it was normally to his choreography.

“I think I can provide several people who would agree that a childish stunt like this isn't beneath you, Caroline.” Hoseok's eyes narrowed and his tone lowered, making him sound much more threatening. “Shall I call one of them now? I'm sure he'd love to get this phone call.”

The lady, “Caroline”, quickly shook her head and grabbed up her purse. “No. That wont be necessary.” She spoke in a hurried tone before glancing at your boss. “I'll forgive this incident once, make sure this doesn't happen again.” She snapped before walking past you, intentionally knocking your shoulder with hers as she walked past, causing you to stumble back into Hoseok who placed his hands on your shoulders. Making sure you didn't fall.

Once Caroline walked out of the door your boss turned to you, his eyes burning with rage, “Miss L/N, please come to my office. I need to speak with you in private.”

“Hold on a second, don't take this out on her. She's innocent.” Hoseok once again came to your rescue, placing himself between you and your boss.

“It's okay, sir.” You spoke softly, bowing lowly to him. “Thank you for your assistance and sticking up for me.” Before he could open his mouth to speak you quickly followed your boss towards the back where you knew the fate that awaited you beyond the old wooden doors. Once inside and locked away from the public, your boss let loose a string of verbal assaults that had your eyes brimming with tears. He scolded you for being noticeably distracted all day, for being careless enough to clear a table that wasn't in your section that resulted in the scene that just unfolded. Every time you tried to defend yourself, he shot you back down with something else you had done wrong in the past, it wasn't a long list but with the venom in his voice it almost had you painted to be the worst server he had ever had the misfortune of working with.

“I swear to god, Y/N! I don't know where your head is but causing a scene today in front of everyone, especially in front of Jung Hoseok, is unforgivable! I know you've worked hard in the past but I cannot allow you to continue working here after something like that.” He sighed while rubbing his temples.

You brought your hands up and wiped away the tears that managed to slip down from your eyes. A soft sniffle coming from you. “Please don't fire me. I can't afford to lose my job right now. I'm already behind on this months rent...and last months. What happened today was an accident and it clearly wasn't my fault.”

“Your financial problems are not my concern! My only concern is making this restaurant grow and gain more popularity. How do you think it's gonna effect business to see if that woman leaves a nasty review of our establishment? I cannot allow this to happen. I'm sorry, but...” He paused, shaking his eyes as he pulled the paychecks from his desk, handing you an envelope that had your name on it. “This is your last full check from us. If you want, keep the tips you've earned from your tables, but that is all I can do for you. Please collect your things and go home. I'll mail you your final paycheck next week.”

You stood there in shock for a few moments before stepping forward, snatching the paycheck from his hand. “Don't play dumb, you firing me has nothing to do with what happened today. You wanted me gone since I refused to suck your dick for better hours. You can take this job and shove it up your stuck up, wannabe rich boy ass. Good luck finding an employee that'll work the shit hours you gave me for such little pay. You alone will run this place into the ground, not one crazy lady's bad review.”

You surprised yourself with the rage that flowed from you as you snapped at your boss who sat there slack jawed and wide eyed at your little outburst. You didn't even give him time to speak before turning swiftly and rushing out of the office. You had to get out of there, fast and now!

After grabbing your things, you ran out of the restaurant, angry tears falling down your face as you stomped away from the building. You didn't get far until you noticed Hoseok waiting by the curb beside a large black SUV, and he wasn't alone. Next to him stood the one man who weren't expecting to see, at least not for several hours, Yoongi.

Time seemed to stand still the moment his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a mixture of anger and sadness the moment he saw you. He stepped away from Hoseok and slowly made his way over to you. His large hands going up to cup your face the moment you tried to look away. The pads of his thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that began to stream down your face. “Babygirl.” He sighed, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

As your eyes met his, your lower lip quivered and unable to stop yourself you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. You weren't sure why but in this moment, all you wanted was a hug from him. Something to comfort you and make you feel even an ounce better. You hated showing a man you hardly knew this moment of weakness but you were scared. You were now jobless and if you couldn't pay rent, soon you'd be homeless. You half expected him to pull away from you so you just held him as tight to your body as you could and buried your face in his suit coat.

He never pulled away, much to your surprise, instead he wrapped both his arms tightly around your shoulders and held you tight to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as he rubbed your back soothingly. “It's okay, baby. I got you.” He muttered softly into your ear.

“W-Why are you here?” You managed to ask, trying desperately to dry up your tears.

“Hoseok is a friend of mine. He called me and told me what happened. I was on this side of town so I had to come check on my girl.” He muttered, his fingers running up and down your back slowly causing you to relax in his arms. You found it odd that a friend of Yoongi's happened to be at your restaurant only hours after the contract signing but honestly, in this moment you could careless. You were just glad he showed up to check on you. “I can explain everything in the car. Let me take you home so you can get a shower.”

You shook your head and turned your head so your cheek was pressed to his chest, your ear right over his heart that you could hear was beating extremely fast. “I don't care, I'm just glad you're here right now.” You confessed. His arms around you giving you a gentle squeeze.

“I'll always be here for you, Babygirl.” He sighed before pulling away slightly, his hand gently taking yours as he pulled you towards his car. “Let's go. I want to hear everything from you in the car.”

Nodding, you slid into the open back door before giving Hoseok a sad smile. Yoongi went to get in after you but paused just long enough to turn towards his friend, his expression hardening for just a moment. “Find Caroline. I don't care what it takes, find out where that bitch is staying.” He hissed. You were a bit taken back at the tone Yoongi used but said nothing.

“I will. Leave it to me.” He nodded before shutting the door after Yoongi got into the back with you.

He instructed the driver to go by just telling him to go home. The two of you sat in silence for a long moment, his hand still gripping yours. You turned your hand so your fingers laced with his as you two just sat there both looking of opposite windows. Your free hand was wiping away the remainders of your tears before you turned to look at him. “Who is she?”

Yoongi sighed softly and lowered his head for a moment, not once looking over at you. “She's a virus. One that keeps popping up.” He muttered, just jaw clenching slightly. “Remember how I told you that the contract was to help protect you from my former women? Well, she's the main one.”

“Oh..” You muttered while glancing down at your hand that was still held in his, your heart dropping down into the pits of your stomach.

“Somehow she found out who you were and went after you instead of me. How she found you so quickly, I don't know. Normally she goes after me and tries to get in me a scandal. I'm so sorry. I intended on keeping you out of this. I didn't think she'd go as far as to show up to your work.” He glanced over to you and with his free hand, he placed two fingers under your chin and lifted your head so he could see your face. “That's why I had Hoseok watching out for you. I was worried about your safety. I came as soon as he called me saying she was there but she was long gone by the time I got there.”

“It's not your fault. My boss was looking for a reason to fire me, she just gave him the out he needed to get rid of me.” You sighed, scooting over closer to him so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

Yoongi stiffened and let out a low sigh of frustration. “He fired you? After Hoseok told him it was all her fault?”

You nodded and just sighed softly. “I came onto me once and said he'd pay me more and give me better hours if I agreed to sleep with him, of course I refused so he always wanted me gone since then.”

“I'll kill him.” Yoongi growled softly, his hand releasing yours as he wrapped his arms almost protectively over your shoulder and pulled you closer to him.

“Don't get upset. It was a long time ago.” You shook your head and nuzzled closer into his side, the chill from the still soaked shirt making you shiver. “He'll get whats coming to him in the end. One day some will put him in his place and he'll lose everything he's worked for. The only reason I endured it was because it's so hard for find a job these days.”

Yoongi moved so his head was resting on top of yours, his fingers playing with the sticky strands of your hair. “I can help you until you get back on your feet.”

“I dont want your money, Yoongi. I got myself into this mess I can figure a way out.”

This caused him to laugh softly and turn his head so his lips brushed against the top of your head. “Babygirl, you still haven't figured out this sugardaddy thing have you? I signed a contract to pay you and take care of you while you give me company. Helping you in what I'm going to do. I'm also going to protect you from Caroline. I swear she wont get close to you again. Once I find her I'm gonna make sure she's locked up in a nice padded room where she cant hurt anyone again.”

You smiled softly for the first time that day since you received his text messages and just closed your eyes. For a moment you felt better, like even though you lost your job, that everything was going to be okay as long as you had this man by your side. Which was an odd feeling for you since you had only just met him.

The rest of the car ride went on in silence until you found yourself back at his office building. “What are we doing here?” You asked with an arched brow, your head lifting from his shoulder. “I thought you were taking me home?”

“I never said your home, babygirl. You got to go in, get a shower and then I have a friend who is going to take you someplace nice so you can get ready for our date tonight. You've had a rough day so for the rest of the day you're about to be pampered like the queen you are until I come to get you.” He smirked slightly.

[dis-easedfairy]

Impulsive Decision pt.2

Chapter 2: The Duck Tape Pillar

WARNINGS: SWEARING/STRONG LANGUAGE | KIDNAPPING | MENTIONS OF MURDER |

Pairing: BTS x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2,723

Summary:  Y/n is the owner of a very wealthy and successful company, Barnanby Inc. Y/n attends a BTS show. They make a very impulsive decision to show a loophole in BTS’s security and end up kidnapping BTS and 2 girls. In a fit of panic Y/n stashes BTS and the girls in a very luxurious bunker for the time being, but Y/n’s world slowly starts to crumble the longer the boys are out of the public’s eye.

A/N: This is mostly angst with a small amount of fluff at the end.

"Okay, my friend is gone, I'm calm, I'm confused and mildly stressed, aka me most of the time. I'm sorry you had to see me pop off on 'My-Daddy-Is-A-Lawyer' over here, but I'd like to show you the rest of the bunker. If any of you try what she or Jimin did, you will be exiled to the ducktape pillar until you learn manners, are we clear?" I stated, walking out the bathroom in front of them all. 

Everyone nodded, all but the girl ducktaped. I walked over to the double doors and slid them open revealing a very open layout. It was a nice spacious living room with three couches, large tv, and speakers. A normal sized kitchen behind the living room and a dining room with a large table.

I had the whole place black, white and gray besides a few things here are there that were different colors of the rainbow to add some personality. I walked into the dining room with them following. There were two openings on the left and right of the dining room. 

I turned around to face them

"To your right is a hall that leads to a gym, a locker room, an office, a library and a bathroom. To your left are the bedrooms. There are only 4 done so you may have to share rooms. I was supposed to have the other four rooms fixed up, but never got around to it and never saw a need to. Also, there is a laundry room and 3 large bathrooms in that hall because I prepped this bunker for my family and they take like 3 hours in the bathroom for some reason. You are free to play my arcade games, eat my snacks, drink my alcohol and do as you please. Be sure to eat dinner and I'll be back." I announced and began to walk out. 

"You're not staying?" Jimin asked quickly.

I stopped to turn to them, they all seemed panicked.

"Don't worry this place isn't riddled with traps or anything. I'm only leaving to tell my company I'm taking a week off, get food and inform my family that I'm going rogue for a week or so."

"'Going rogue'?" RM questioned.

" Your company??" J-Hope asked.

"Yeah, I do this thing where I just drop off the face of the earth for a few days. It usually happens when I'm depressed, or just want to be alone. They understand already. Yes, my company, I inherited it from my dad. It started from cartoons to TV to toys, how else does someone acquire enough money to build a bunker with 8 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, large TV and speakers, a nice kitchen, a gym, office, library and gaming room all well stocked with top of the line equipment? I'll be back in a bit." I began walking out once more.

   I ended up over-shopping. I got too much food and bought clothes for the boys, hoping they'd fit. I got out my car and started loading everything at the dial door. I made sure I had everything before I closed and locked the vault door and opened the punched in the code, loading everything in the now empty feeling room. I noticed the girl wasn't taped to the pillar. I sighed. I slid open the doors dramatically.

"HeLLO FELLOW BITCHES!" I called out moving bags to the kitchen.

Jimin and Suga were sitting on the couches, mindlessly watching TV, I could hear an argument happening between Jungkook and Jin along with a Mortal Kombat tune playing.

Jimin jumped up and went to grab bags from the previous room and Suga gave me a look I couldn't figure out.

"What's with the look?" I asked, starting to load things in the fridge.

"Why so many bags? Are they too heavy?"

"I got a lot of food and clothes for you all. Unless you like using the same underwear and hoodie for a week, then be my guest." I tried to make it seem like his sudden concern didn't faze me.

Jimin came in with a ton of bags, dropping them on the floor and started helping me put things away. 

"Since when did you become helpful?" I asked Jimin suspiciously. 

Jin walked into the dining room, he saw me and gave me a small smile.

"Hello, how was the trip?" He asked softly, walking up the counter, looking curiously through the bags.

"Fine, I guess. I got a lot of food and got you all clothes, where is everyone?"

"Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok are in the gaming room cheating," I let out a small giggle. "Namjoon is in the library with Seongmi and Linza."

"Which one is the one I dislike? Ducktape Girl I mean."

Jin was trying not to laugh as he got the name 'Linza' out. 

"How's your back?" Jimin asked quietly. 

"Okay, what's going on?? Suga looked at me funny but asked if the bags were too heavy. You held a knife to my back and are now asking how my back is feeling like you weren't threatening to stab it a few hours ago. Jin has been mostly calm this whole time and it's starting to freak me out." I admitted. 

"Yah! When I have I not been calm!?" Jin almost demanded, making me smile.

My phone gave off a notification that I had lost cell service from being in the bunker. It made me freeze. I walked over to Suga and held my hand out. 

"Hand over the phone."

He looked as if he was going to challenge me, but decided against it. He handed me his phone. I turned on the screen. An app was open, a recording app that had several 10-20 minute recordings on it within the past 4 hours. Since I kidnapped them. I frowned and handed his phone back. That's why he and Jimin seemed so concerned with me, they wanted to not be suspicious. They wanted to seem compliant.

"You're not deleting anything?" Jimin sounded timid, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

There was no doubt that he recorded me popping off on 'Ducktape Girl' when I was angry. Out of context, I would be painted as an unhinged monster in front of a judge, especially since 'Ducktape Girl' insisted her father was a lawyer. Not only that but my family's reputation with the law since my father passed was an extremely unsturdy bridge that was one gust of wind away from completely disintegrating. The police in the area were just praying to get a family member of mine to harass every day. I could go to jail for life.

I was going to jail for life. 

I felt my eyes begin to water at the thought. I didn't even consider how long I'd go to jail for this, or how much more my family would be ridiculed when I did go to prison. All because of my poor impulse control, all because I made a stupid decision and didn't back out of it once I saw it go south.

"I'm not deleting anything; That's destroying evidence. I'm going to bed. I had ruined my life enough today." I emotionlessly spilled out, turning to the big double doors. 

"You should eat something! Or at least a snack." Jin called out.

"You can eat all you want. I'm not hungry." I closed the double doors behind me and got on the large bed. 

I pulled out my phone. I saw I had a call from my mom. I pulled myself out the bed and opened the dial door, closing it behind me. I got outside the bunker and caught service, despite the bunker being in a forest in the middle of nowhere. I tapped 'call back' and waited.

"Hey, Y/n your brother and I were just having a debate, want to settle it?" I smiled a little.

"That depends, what are you two arguing about NOW?"

"Mom wants to make HER 'Watermelon Wonder' bullshits for our sister's picnic." My brother butt in.

They were clearly drinking. My mother would never let my brother call her 'Watermelon Wonder's 'bullshits' without some kind of influence.

Our family was into charity events, whether it be picnics, fairs, library 'parties' or even college parties, we always liked to help out those in need. We did this all year round whenever given the chance, but summer was our busiest season.

'Watermelon Wonder' was a concoction my mother forced us to drink when we were younger. My MOTHER'S recipe had different types of melon, plus every leafy or healthy green thing she could get her hands on. Broccoli, spinach, kale, peas, you name it, blended into a thick liquid that was practically paste. 

My FATHER'S recipe was just melons, mint and a small amount a lime blended into a smooth refreshing drink that was meant to be kept ice cold, we sold it in cans at our toy stores, it was a fundraiser tradition. 

"No mom, DAD'S 'Watermelon Wonder' is the only one that shall ever have our involvement." 

"HA! Remember when mom put WASABI in them!?"

I shivered at the memory as my mother and brother began bickering. No fun fundraisers in prison. No family dinners. No Drunk Family Night. No fulfillment of the promises I made to my father. My chest tightened making me let in a shaky breath that made my family stop bickering.

"Y/n? Honey, are you okay?" My mother asked.

The tears in my eyes spilled over.

"Yeah, just...depression." I lied. 

"Are you taking your pills?" 

"Yeah. I think I have to up the dosage. We still can't get it right. I'm sorry I can't be at the fundraiser, but I'll be sure to donate. I uh, need to make an appointment with our family lawyer too. I've been getting a property offer and want to make sure everything goes to you guys." 

"Seth hasn't seen you since your father passed, I'm sure he'd love to know you're scheduling. I heard you're trying to expand to games?"

I smiled and I began to cry more.

"Yeah, dad loved them so much." My voice wavered.

My mom let out a dreamy sigh. "I remember our first date was in an arcade. He joked that if we'd have kids, he'd ignore me and play video games with them. Sure enough, your brother and sister showed up, you shortly after, then your little sister, I barely got to see him out of office or off the living room floor. He somehow always remembered anniversaries, birthdays and what I was wearing on the 13th day of that month. He never, not once, made me feel neglected or not paid attention to. He loved me. He loved all of you."

"Sorry mom, I have to go, work is calling." I managed. 

"Okay, don't forget about your Dad's birthday coming up. We have a big even set up!"

"I won't, love you all." I hung up quickly and let out the sob that I was holding back.

I had so much to lose. I was so angry at myself. I texted Seth, the family lawyer to schedule an appointment, sent Jason a text, threatening him, telling him if he told anyone I'd let out all the details about the dirty magazine I found in his room when we were 10 and went back into the bunker. 

I fell into the large bed, hoping Freddy Kruger would do me a solid and pull me far away. No such luck.   I heard a soft knock on the double doors.

"You may be blessed with my presence," I called out loud enough for them to hear. 

The door slid open, showing V in a large white T-shirt and boxers, hugging a pillow. I sat up.

"What's up?" I asked softly, my voice was still hoarse from crying. 

He frowned, stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He climbed on the bed in front of me and sat there looking at me for a bit. 

"I want to get to know you." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Not much to know, just a crazy fan who kidnapped everyone." I laughed bitterly.

"I don't believe that."

I looked into his eyes, almost silently asking if we was serious. He was waiting patiently. I sighed, running my hands through my hair as I lied back. He quickly lied beside me, making my heart nearly jump out my chest and make a run for it.  I tried to stay as calm as a possibly could. The luminous god beside me was making it pretty difficult.

"I own my father's company. He was an aspiring game designer until he met my mother who was an animator. Most of the companies she went to, to sell her work denied it for more popular animators. Talent didn't get her anywhere. So my father switched gears for her and became a business student. He didn't even finish college but managed to win over anyone who got within 100 yards of him. People loved him. He made a ton of connections, got a lot of job offers, made a lot of money from 2 to 3 years of hard work, bought a company, named it after my mother's first character, 'Barnaby' and had his new buddies run ads, shorts and other animations on their networks.  My family's company got bigger, started showing their animations on their own platform. My older sister helps run that side of the company, Broadcasting and Entertainment. People wanted merchandise, my father expanded to toys that he and my mother designed. My younger sister helps with feedback and my older brother helps run that side, Toys and Merchandise. I was planning on moving to video games, my father used to love them. Every time he had a day off, I'd wake up to waffles with a tower of whipped cream on top, bacon, eggs, sausage, every berry he could find and every video game he could get his hands on. We'd all sit in the living room, until he had to go to work the next day, just playing games, having fun until that sun came up." I ranted, looking at the ceiling, smiling slightly.

"What happened to him?"

"He was murdered. His car somehow didn't have breaks suddenly in the middle of a busy highway. He crashed. The police said there was no foul play, My father was diligent with the car around that time since I was learning how to drive. The breaks weren't worn. Someone wanted him dead. They succeeded. My father always thought I was the most caring, likable, wittiest, smartest, bravest and most cunning of his children, so he gave me the company in his will." I let out another bitter laugh.

"He's probably the most disappointed billionaire ghost." I sighed feeling a sense of acceptance wash over me.

"Why would he be disappointed."

"Because I 'yeet'ed that shit out the window as I ran 12 red lights with 7 very famous idols and 2 innocent people in the back of a limo. All gone because I wanted to see how far I could go. Once I saw how far I could go, I was too afraid, too stupid to back out. Now I have a girl who says her father is a lawyer, an innocent girl whose family misses her dearly, 7 idols who are either terrified or disgusted in me in which case two of those idols have evidence that can destroy me, a best friend who can be labeled an accomplice,  a police force who hates my family and is just waiting for the moment when one of us slips, and a family who will get blindsided by the news that their 'Golden Y/n' finally snapped."

"I'm not terrified or disgusted in you." V whispered softly. 

"Are you saying this because you want plushies?"

"Yes." His boxy smile lifted my entire soul. 

I giggled. "I'll get you one tomorrow, any color preferences?"

"Gray. I'm sure everything will turn out okay." 

I turned on my side to look at him.

"I hope so. You know, V, you may be my new favorite." I yawned.

"Good, I like the crazy ones."

We both let out tired laughs.

"Call me Tae." He whispered.

"Okay, Tae. Call me, N/n. Nightie night."

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