#i love that i made them all my older brother

[bat-mom-writer]

Impulses

Bruce Wayne(Husband) X Reader(Wife)

Summery: you can be very quick to act on your impulse, usually being done with a kind heart. But can sometimes lead to you and some others being hurt.

Note: Something tells me Bruce wouldn't go to therapy, but this isn't real so...

Rate: Loving Bruce, the very small almost of angst

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"So, tell me Bruce, are you happily married?"

"Of course."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Bruce pauses, thinking over his words carefully, "it's not exactly that simple."

The therapist's office was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath. Bruce Wayne sat in a chair that was a little too small for his broad shoulders, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. It was a simple room, with a few plants scattered around and a faint scent of lavender in the air, but it was the last place he ever thought he'd be. He was a man who dealt with Gotham's problems from the shadows, not one who talked about his own in a well-lit space with a box of tissues within arm's reach.

"How so?" the therapist asked again, her voice gentle but firm, bringing Bruce back to the present.

He sighed. "Well, my wife… she's incredible. She's kind and she's the glue that holds our family together."

The therapist nodded, her expression neutral. "But?"

Bruce leaned back, rubbing his temples. "But she's… impulsive. She does things without considering the consequences, especially when it comes to the boys."

The therapist made a note in her pad. "Could you give me an example?"

Bruce sighed heavily, his mind racing with instances. "Once we went hiking, and she found a baby wolf, injured and alone. She insisted on bringing it back to the manor to care for it herself. Most of my sons thought it would be a great idea—until we realized it had a pack out there looking for it, and suddenly we had a bunch of very unhappy wolves on our backs."

The therapist looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I see. And how did that situation resolve?"

Bruce chuckled, a bit nervously. "Let's just say there were a lot of stitches involved. And I haven't heard anyone wanting to go camping again ever since."

The therapist's eyes widened, but she remained calm. "It seems she has a heart of gold, but maybe a bit of an overactive sense of adventure."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. And it's not just with animals. She once tried to organize a surprise street carnival in the middle of Gotham because she thought the city needed more joy. You can imagine the chaos that ensued with all the traffic rerouting and permits she didn't bother to get."

The therapist's pen stopped mid-stroke. "Ah, so her intentions are good, but the execution could use some work."

Bruce nodded emphatically. "You have no idea. She's the love of my life, but sometimes I worry she's going to get us all into trouble. The boys look up to her, especially Dick and Damian."

The therapist leaned in slightly. "How do Dick and Damian react to her impulsive nature?"

"Dick tries to be the voice of reason, but he's young and still learning the ropes of being a responsible older brother. And Damian," Bruce sighed, "he's more like me—he's intrigued by the chaos she creates, but he's also the one who ends up getting hurt when things go awry."

The therapist nodded understandingly. "It's natural for children to look up to their parents, especially when they see the love and good intentions behind their actions. But it's also important for them to learn about boundaries and the potential consequences of impulsivity. How does your wife react when you bring this up with her?"

Bruce leaned forward, his expression a mix of affection and exasperation. "She's… well, she's stubborn. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities, and she wants to experience all of them. I get that, I do. But we can't live our lives on the edge like that, especially with the kind of enemies I've made over the years."

The therapist nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It's a delicate balance, isn't it? Wanting to keep your family safe and also allowing them the freedom to live their lives fully. How have you been managing this?"

Bruce's smile grew a bit wistful. "Well, my wife is also the lively part of our lives. Without her, the manor would be just a fortress, not a home. She brings laughter and light to every room she enters. She's the one who convinced me to let Tim build a skateboard ramp in the garage, and even though it's a hazard to my cars, I can't help but smile when I hear them all out there, having fun."

The therapist nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "It sounds like you appreciate her spirit, but it's important to establish boundaries to ensure everyone's safety. Have you tried discussing the potential dangers with her?"

Bruce leaned back, his eyes drifting to the floor. "I've tried," he admitted. "But she's… she's like a tornado of love and enthusiasm. It's hard to say no to her."

The therapist nodded, her expression understanding. "It's clear you care deeply for her and the boys. Perhaps it's time to find a way to channel that enthusiasm into safer outlets."

"I know," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. "But she's so… so alive. It's like trying to cage a butterfly."

The therapist nodded. "It's not about caging her, Bruce. It's about guiding her. Teaching her and the boys to weigh risks and rewards. To channel their energy into something positive without endangering themselves or others."

Bruce sat in silence, contemplating her words. He knew she was right, but it was easier said than done when it came to his vibrant wife. Her zest for life was both infectious and overwhelming at times. He thought back to the street carnival she had organized. The look of joy on the citizens' faces as they played games and ate cotton candy was something he hadn't seen in Gotham in a long time.

"There not all bad," he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her impulses have led to some amazing moments, too."

"Like what?" the therapist prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce's smile grew as he recalled a recent incident. "Last week, she found out about a fundraising event for an underfunded children's hospital. Without asking, she decided to host a masquerade ball at the manor. She convinced Alfred to help, and together they transformed the place into a fairy tale. The kids had the time of their lives, and we ended up raising a fortune for those kids."

The therapist returned his smile. "That does sound wonderful. It seems her spontaneity has its benefits."

Bruce nodded. "It does. But it's also a double-edged sword. I want to support her, but I also need to keep everyone safe."

The therapist leaned back in her chair. "Communication is key, Bruce. It's about expressing your concerns without squashing her spirit. Have you tried talking to her about how her impulsiveness affects you?"

Bruce sighed, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. "I've tried, but she takes it personally. She thinks I'm trying to control her."

The therapist nodded, her expression empathetic. "It's a common misconception. Setting boundaries isn't about control; it's about care and safety. Have you framed it that way?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure. I've usually approached it from the perspective of the danger it could pose to the boys."

"It's important to express your feelings," the therapist said. "Tell her how her actions affect you and why you worry. It might help her understand your perspective better."

Bruce nodded slowly, considering her advice. It was true; he hadn't shared his own fears with her, only the potential risks to the boys. Perhaps that was where he was going wrong.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll think about what you've said."

The therapist stood and offered a warm smile. "Remember, Bruce, it's about balance. And sometimes, that means taking a risk to find it."

Bruce nodded, her words echoing in his mind as he left the office and stepped into the Gotham night. The city was alive with the pulse of its inhabitants, a stark contrast to the calmness he'd just left behind. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to bridge the gap between his need for security and his wife's boundless spirit.

As he drove back to Wayne Manor, the grandeur of the estate came into view, the gothic architecture a stark contrast to the chaos of the city beyond its gates. The manor was more than just a home; it was a bastion of hope in a city that desperately needed it. The lights were on in the windows, a warm glow that promised sanctuary from the cold outside.

When he walked in, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You was in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you pulled a tray out of the oven. You turned to him, your face lighting up with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. "Hi, honey! How was your day?"

Bruce took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he knew he had to have. "It was… interesting," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "How about yours?"

"Oh, you know," you replied with a shrug, placing the cookies on a rack to cool. "Just the usual—keeping the boys out of trouble, planning the next big surprise for them." you winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bruce felt a twinge of both fondness and dread. He knew that look all too well. It was the look you got when she had another harebrained scheme up your sleeve. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "How about we talk about these surprises together from now on?"

You tilted your head back, your smile fading a bit. "What do you mean?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "I mean, I know you love surprising the boys, and I love that about you. But sometimes, your surprises have… unintended consequences. I want to be there to support you, but I also need to make sure everyone is safe."

You leaned back, looking up at him with a slightly defensive expression. "Not all of my surprises turn out bad," you said, your voice a bit softer than before.

Bruce felt his heart squeeze at the sight of you, flour smudged on your cheek and apron, looking so earnest. He gave a tight smile, trying to ease the tension. But his face was screaming, "Are you sure?"

You took a step back, "Okay, okay, maybe most of them," you conceded. "But the good ones make up for it, right?"

Bruce sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "They do," he agreed. "But it's the potential for danger that I can't ignore. And not just for the boys, but for you too."

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the flour on your apron. "Me? I'm fine. I can handle myself."

Bruce's grip on your shoulders tightened slightly. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice serious. "How many times have you ended up in the hospital because of one of your… adventures?"

You winced, remembering the last time you had tried to rescue a cat stuck in a tree, only to end up with a broken arm and a bruised ego. "Okay, okay," you repeated, holding up your hands in surrender. "I get it. I can be a bit… much."

Bruce's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "You're not 'much', you're amazing. I just don't want to lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in. "I know," you said, your voice small. "But what about you? You're not much different, Bruce. Maybe even worse. You go out every night as Batman, risking your life."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable. "That's different," he said firmly. "That's for the city."

"Is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Or is it because you've convinced yourself that it's your duty? That you're the only one who can do it?"

Bruce's jaw tightened at your question. It was a fair point, one he'd wrestled with in the quiet moments of his life. He knew that his crusade as Batman was driven by his own fears and the need to keep the city that had taken his parents safe. But he also knew that the stakes were higher for him than they were for you.

"I've been trained for that," he said finally. "You… you have the biggest heart in the world, but sometimes you don't think about the risks."

You nodded, looking down at the cookies cooling on the rack. "I know," you murmured. "But it's just so hard to resist when I see something that could bring joy to people, especially the boys."

Bruce stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. "I know your heart's in the right place," he said. "But we can't keep playing Russian roulette with our lives, not when we have so much to lose. I don't want to lose you. Or see you get hurt. I'm just asking, please, consider the risks before you act. And come to me, talk to me, let's find a way to make this work."

You searched his eyes, the gravity of his words sinking in. You knew he wasn't trying to stifle you; he was just worried. "Okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "I'll try."

Bruce's expression relaxed a bit, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Thank you," he said softly. "Now, how about we sit down and talk about what's been on your mind? Maybe we can come up with some ideas together."

You nodded, swiping a strand of hair from your forehead. "Alright, I'll finish up on the cookies and then we can talk. Until then, want to help? Just to make sure I don't hurt myself?"

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Sure," he said, taking the spatula from your hand. "Let's do this together."

As you both worked side by side in the kitchen, the tension began to ease. You chatted about the different flavors of cookies and which ones the boys would like best, while Bruce carefully placed the finished ones on a plate. The rhythm of your conversation was soothing, and it reminded him of the first time he had met you—how your laugh had filled a room and made him feel alive again.

[niteskysx]

(A continuation from my last fic)

Stepbrother! Nicholas Chavez x Reader x Stepbrother! Cooper Koch

Your role in this family was… complicated. When your adoptive parents brought you into the family, they thought giving their boys a little sister would be a wonderful idea. A picture-perfect family, they said.

What they didn’t realize was that their sons were far from perfect.

At first, Nicholas seemed like the kind of older brother anyone would want— charming, protective, and confident. With the exception of some anger issues, of course.

He said he’d help you with boys. He’d give advice, tease you harmlessly, and make you smile. But as the both of you grew older, that teasing shifted into somewhat of a darker nature.

In the teaching and teasing, he would start making these odd requests and try to convince you the best he could.

“I want to try something new with my girlfriend, but I need to make sure I don’t screw it up with her, I- I really love her you know… Can I try it on you first? Just to see how it feels? Just this once?”

You hesitated first, of course, but you were just helping, right? You were family. It was all innocent, wasn’t it? Just a favor for your stepbrother.

The first time you gave in, you told yourself it was harmless. But once that line was crossed, it was like he’d broken a lock.

The requests kept getting bolder and things started escalating into more intense exchanges.

He’d pull you aside, or take you to his room, and say he needed your help again. That it was “important.”That he loved his girlfriend too much to risk losing her.

Nicholas was a person that could get angry very quickly. When things didn’t go his way, he would be frustrated or get mad quick and needed a way to blow off steam fast.

Eventually, he started using you as a stress-reliever.

Whenever Nicholas felt bored, frustrated, or just needed to “relax,” he’d call you into his room. He’d claim it was harmless but he needed your help to blow off steam.

“You wouldn’t want to ruin the only family you have, would you?” He would say.

It’s not like you wanted him to continue with what he was doing— but sometimes, just, sometimes, you found yourself craving it. Craving him. Like a classic horny virgin, just so desperately waiting for the next time he’d teach you something new. You hated yourself for it, for wanting him like this, especially knowing that with each time you allowed him closer, you were indirectly betraying the only family you had ever known. But in those moments, as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop yourself. The minute he touched you, you melted— You couldn’t deny the way you looked forward to him, even as the guilt was suffocating you immensely.

Cooper, on the other hand, played the part of the sweet, caring brother. He didn’t seem to know the full extent of what went down between you and Nicholas, but you could tell he had an idea. He’d glance at you sometimes, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name— concern, guilt, maybe even jealousy. He’d ask if you were okay, with his angelic gentle tone that he has, but his questions only made you more anxious.

Even with Cooper, things didn’t feel entirely “brother-like.” His glances always lingered on you a moment too long, his touch lingering in ways that felt just a bit too intimate, like when his fingers brushed yours at the dinner table when you asked him to pass the bread. And that tension. That unspoken tension between the two of you that rises whenever you are left in a room together, alone.

You felt trapped by the both of them. Mentally, physically, emotionally….

The lines between right and wrong started to blur for you everyday and you couldn’t think right. You just kept sinking deeper and deeper into their control— intentionally or unintentionally.

You found yourself sitting close to Nicholas again— you could feel his fingers trail down your arm, his breath warm against your skin. You wanted to get away, you knew you had to get away, but you couldn’t… It was like he had you under some kind of unspoken spell that couldn’t be broken. He was leaning in, looking at your lips, about to do what you think he was about to do when—

The door flew open.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

“Hey—oh,” Cooper’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He froze in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable.

Nick jerked back, his jaw clenching as he turned to glare at his younger brother. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cooper blinked, recovering quickly. “I was going to ask her if she wanted to watch a movie,” he said, his tone calm but his eyes flickering between the two of you. “But I can see I interrupted something.”

“You think?” Nick snapped.

Your heart was racing a million miles an hour. “I—I was just heading to bed,” you stammered, trying to escape the situation.

Cooper didn’t budge from the doorway, he just kept glaring, eyes locked on Nick’s. “Maybe you should give her some space, Nicholas. You know, let her breathe for once.”

You didn’t expect Cooper to say that. At all.

You could feel how mad Nick was getting. This wasn’t good.

“Stay out of it, Coop. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does when you’re acting like a—” Cooper stopped himself, glancing at your innocent face before finishing. “Just… back off, okay?”

Nick took a step toward his brother.. “You don’t tell me what to do. Got it?”

“Someone has to,” Cooper shot back, his calm demeanor cracking. “She’s not your plaything, Nicholas.”

What was happening wasn’t good and you needed to figure out a way to stop this before things escalated. You quickly stepped between them before things could escalate.

“Stop it—both of you,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “I don’t want any of this. I’m going to my room.”

You rushed out of there as soon as possible. You couldn’t take whatever “this” was. It was just too much for you to handle.

Nick watched you leave as you left his room, turning from frustrated to something softer. Sadder. But only for a brief moment before hardening his expression to bitter ‘ol Nicholas again. “Fine. Whatever,” he muttered, dropping into the chair beside his bed.

He shot a glance at Cooper, waving him off lazily.

“You can go now, too.”

Cooper gave Nick one last angry glance before he turned to leave.

As he stepped into the hallway, he could see that your door was slightly open and he peeked through that little space to see you sitting on the edge of your bed, holding yourself.

Hesitant at first, but he knocks lightly on your door and steps inside. “Hey,” he said, his voice gentler than ever. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your hands were still trembling. “I’m fine. Thanks for… everything.”

He gave you a small smile. “Someone has to look out for you.”

Before you could respond, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “If you ever need anything, just… let me know, okay?”

You nodded again, not adding anything else. He turned and quietly closed the door behind him.

When you were left alone with your thoughts, you were trying to process everything that just happened. What did just happen? In fact, what HAS been happening? I mean— this is not like you at all! You’re a good girl, like mom and dad say. You have always been a good girl… Kissing your step brother? Nicholas—? Seriously? The boy who gets off on torturing and teasing his stepsister? He doesn’t even really like you! He just uses you— why are you STILL letting him get close to you like that and then let him treat you like trash the rest of the time? And what was that fight? Over YOU? No way. This all feels like a very, VERY bad dream that you need to wake up from.

You sighed and collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands.

Just sleep it off… just… sleep… it… off.

Things will be normal tomorrow…. Right?

For @blackynsupremacy 🙊💋

[wonderhomeland]

I have never written anything in a long time and English is not my first language, but this idea has been in my head for a long time, so...

Warnings/tags : BAd English, fem!reader, obsessed!Simon Riley, possessive!Simon Riley, I have been waiting for years!Simon Riley, Age gap( more than 10 years-simon is older-Simon acts like age doesn't matter.), smat (Only Simon loses his mind thinking about his wife + the things he want to do with her.), Arranged marriage, fluff, A general explanation of the idea at the beginning of the post. Tell me if I forgot anything!

~

An AU where the government uses tests to choose a partner for you, based on DNA, blood type, etc., to find a good match for superior genes. And these tests continue until your early twenties (not like they're in a lab, it's in real life and the tests are taken at school, like exams) and finally by the age of 22 or 23, the person you should "marry" is determined for you.

And during this time, you shouldn't have a relationship with anyone, and you can't break this pre-arranged marriage in any way.

There are people who, for whatever reason, such as their weak genes, never get a partner chosen for them, and even if someone is suitable, they never send their files for two people to get to know each other.

They are not ridiculed or humiliated, They are just not accepted.

And here we have Simon Riley. A boy who is the victim of his parents' forced marriage. He has a bad situation at school and an even worse situation at home. Since childhood, he has always tried to distract himself from all his problems and try to hold on until he realizes what the future holds for him. Simon, who has never felt like he belongs anywhere or to anyone. Even blood relations have not made him to have a good relationship with his brother, now he understands that there is only one person for him and he is only for one person. In his eyes, she is an angel , not just an angel who is going to save him, but an angel who is going to be by his side forever. As he grow up this childish excitement turns into a obsession.

All the people who work on the projects always encourage him and say that he has very strong genes, a very strong and resilient body, he is patient and careful and has a very high leadership intelligence. They says that he is very cooperative in the tests and does his best.

But it never happens. No one in a fancy suit ring his doorbell to give him the good news. To give him the introduction to the person he's always been waiting for. He never hear "Congratulations, Mr. Riley."

Not even after years.

This was strange, he was always complimented, he was always told that he would find someone great, he always hoped that he could be with someone who would love him.

He visited the centers many times. He tried to follow up and even asked to do all the tests again. Surely he wasn't supposed to be alone, right? There must have been a mistake in the results. His file might have been lost.

They never answered him. He was told to wait, some people wait years to get the files.

He waited.

He was a patient man.

Even now, in the garrison corridors, with multiple scars on the body, and a mask on his face, as he was heading to his room after a hard mission, He was waiting.

He packed up his things to go back to his dark, empty apartment for six months. Six months. Half a year. It seems like a long time. But not long enough.

His teammates don't talk to him about it. like this big, strong man who's amazing at everything failed his tests. The big dog who destroys everything on the battlefield, isn't strong enough to beat the tests, the smart leader who always outsmarts the enemy, not smart enough to pass the tests. it was ok for them.

Not for the others though. For other It's a shame. It's a waste.

Unfortunately, he doesn't care about what others think, otherwise he wouldn't have made it this far.

When he gets home, he takes a quick shower and comes out, hungry but tired, so he puts on his pants and lies down on his bed. Just as his eyes are getting ready to fall asleep, the doorbell rings.

It used to be joyful, but now it's just annoying.

He grumbled, open the door.

Tight suits were never his thing, they made him look too big. Too scary for others. But not on this guy.

"Mr. Riley, right?"

He raised an eyebrow, "That's me."

"Well, congratulations! According to the research our team has done, after a long review of the files, we were able to find the best match for you!"

With a cheerful face and a smile from ear to ear, he looked at him and held out the file towards him.

But Simon's reaction was unlike anyone else. There was no joy on his face, no indifference to the news. It was anger. and it wasn't the anger that some people showed because of being caught up in this system, it wasn't the anger that came from stubbornness.

It was pure rage. It felt like he was about to tear out his throat.

He just wanted to deliver the news and at least get a smile in return. He would have been much happier if he had seen tears of joy. Usually he would have stopped so that the others could tell him how happy they were and how much they had been waiting for this moment.

But not now. He just wanted to run for his life.

Maybe he's not having a good day? Maybe he woke him up? Maybe he's a man who goes to bed very early and it's late at night?

"Um, I know it's a little late..."

"A little late?" His fist lost control. Simon could break everyone's jaws as much as he wanted at work, but not now, Not here, not his. he just brought the man closer to his face, "A little late?"

His voice trembled with anger. If no one saw this man, they would think he was scared from the way he sounded. "Do you know how fucking long you've kept me waiting for this?"

His face sank, whether from pain or confusion, it didn't matter. He released his jaw and stared at him with his sharp gaze. After a few seconds, he glanced at the files and the man unconsciously handed them to him. "Thank you." There was no sense of gratitude in his voice.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and closed the door. He threw the files on the counter as he walked to his room. He couldn't believe it, and most of all, he didn't have the courage to face this. The last time he had followed up, five years ago, they had told him it was too late, that after all these years the files would be reorganized and the old ones would be moved, he wondered, did they throw away the old information? When he asked, they looked at him like he was stupid. "I don't know if they'll get rid of it completely, but it's no longer used."

Even after that, he waited, but he lost hope. He knew it would never come. He convinced himself it would never come.

Simon Riley couldn't sleep that night, and he couldn't sleep the nights after that. Even looking through the files didn't help him sleep. When he finally got to them, after much struggling, he came across a photo of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He let out a breath he had been holding and stared at the image. After a few minutes, he looked down at her information. Name... her last name... age... age?

OH, she was so young. Much younger than him. Much, much younger for him.

A beautiful young woman, with a bright future and a great position, and here's an old dog like him. he's not an old dog, he's old for her, very old. he's just a dog, you know, a dog that can tear everything to pieces. In the battlefield, not in normal life. In the battlefield, he's a good leader. he is a good dog.

he can be a good dog for her.

he pushes away anyone who comes near her, protects her when she's scared, in return he gets lots of kisses and hugs, lots of attention and sweet words, he wags his tail, shows his belly to her to rub it. damn it, she can rub anything she wants, touch anything she wants .Anywhere he hasn't let anyone even see.

Anything she wants.

Yeah, he's panting like a dog when he sees her picture, it's clear that he'll let her do whatever she wants with him.

The more he looks at her beautiful face, the more his guilt about her being younger than him fades.

Just because they have more than a ten-year age gap doesn't mean he can't be a good man for her.

He wants to be a good man for her. He promises to take a bath with her after a hard day, massage her whole body to relieve her Tension, and when When he dried her, he'll gently place her on the edge of the bed and massage her beautiful legs. If she lets him, he'll kiss them.

from top to bottom, from bottom to top. He will LICK her clean.

She can crush his face, under her feet... or between her thighs. She'll press them so hard that he feels like his skull is breaking, she'll sit on his face so long that he can't breathe, so long that his chest hurts.

She's not going to cry because of some people are asshole's at work, he's giving her something to cry about. From joy, happiness, and a good feeling.

He wants to wake up with her in the morning, the first thing he sees is her beautiful face. He wants to wake up a few hours earlier so he can stare at her in her sleep.

He wants to wake her up with his kisses.

He wants to wake up with her kisses.

He wants to kiss her everywhere, he wants to do a lot of things for her and she kisses him in return, he wants to do nothing and she kisses him, he wants to kiss her for no reason, kiss her because he loves her.

he wants to cook for her. His cooking is terrible but he tries his best, he makes her heart-shaped cupcakes, even if she doesn't like it because of the taste, she still smiles at him and says sweet things . She can Teach him how to cook, so she doesn't have to do that anymore. Just sit there and look pretty for him. What if she can't cook? It's okay, we'll learn together. What if she hates cooking? I said it's okay, just sit and watch how your husband cooks for you.

Husband, please call him husband, it sounds so sweet when it comes out of her mouth. He wants to be called husband everywhere. Especially when she goes out. Everyone should know that a beautiful angel like her has a wild dog like him. You shouldn't go near her, he's only friendly with his owner. He even gives her a collar, you can take him wherever you want.

And instead, he wants to call you his wife. Everyone needs to know that he belongs to someone. Someone is waiting for this scary beast at home, not just anyone, an angel, a real angel.

He wants to say that my wife won't let me, my wife doesn't like it, my wife said no, my wife is waiting for me at home, my wife bought it for me, my wife chose iy, my wife loves it very much, my wife must agree. Everyone knows him by your name. You own him.

At the end of the day,That man is hers. At the end of the night That woman is his. He wants to go to sleep with her, wrap his arms around her and bury her head in his chest. Maybe she let him sleep between her beautiful tits. Does that mean she'll let him kiss them? Oh, he's hopeful, so hopeful.

He lowers his kisses, kisses her belly and goes lower and lower. FUCK, does she wear nice panties for him? The ones with the bras? If he didn't, it wouldn't be a problem, everything on her body is beautiful. Does she let him take them off? He asks permission for everything, I told you, he was a good dog. Did I say he licks her? Oh, he licks her, like it's the last ice cream on earth on the hottest day of the year. He moans, he knows she likes it, her pussy gets wetter when she hears his pleasure, her grip on his hair tightens...

When she comes, he rests his head on her thighs, looks at her as her breathing becomes stable, waits for her to look at him, pats his head and tells him well done. Damn it, she won't regret it, he promises.

He always asks her how she wants it this time. "Whatever you like, angel." Is she tired of the same place? Does she need a little variety? Baby, he, bends her over every surface.

He'll go on for several rounds, but he'll get tired, old dog, remember? If she still feel like it, how about she put her beautiful thighs on him and ride him? Oh, I'm sure he'll enjoy the jiggling of her tits.

tired? It's okay, Princess, he presses his feet into the mattress and do all the work.

After they're both satisfied. If she feels like it, theu can go Take a bath together, right? If she's really tired, she can sleep and he'll clean her up without disturbing her sleep, and then join her in bed.

He is very happy, he waited so long to see her and put the ring on her finger. He will have a big wedding party for her, with lots of guests. But he has to wait, he doesn't know what she likes yet, he shouldn't rush.

There is time, there is a lot of time. It took a long time, but it was worth it.

His little angel will soon be by his side.

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

I genuinely think This Simon Riley taking his angel like an animal for the first time.🤭

Simon, who is completely defenseless against his wife, I love him.

As I said, English is not my first language. And in my language the pronouns (he, she, it and... all of them ) are the same, so forgive me if I made a mistake.🫠

I know bad writing takes away the joy of reading, but please forgive me.🥲🙏🏼

If anyone writes something with this idea, please tag me! I would love to read this idea written by someone whose English is better than me!😔

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Crazy in Love

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Doyle!reader

Warnings: guns, Ian Doyle, faking death, cussing, psycho lesbians.

"She's alive?" I asked the tears falling faster than I could register "Hey" there she was, standing with a sheepish smile "You're fucking with me, fuck you all" I stormed past her. I had mourned her, my wife who I had buried, her mother not in attendance and all this time Hotch and JJ knew?

I grabbed my purse from under my desk angrily, I should've been happy to have my wife home if only I didn't have to go through everything I had done in my grief. Our apartment hadn't felt the same since she left now to find out she didn't die at all. I wanted to burn everything in my path, the only people I trusted lied to me and consoled me- they held me in the hospital through everything.

The drive home was short and silent. The apartment hadn't truly been cleaned; her things were laid where she left them last, just in case she came back for them.  This wasn't the first time Emily had lied about something either, this was just the worst one in the years we had been together.

Later that day Emily returned home "Baby?" her voice made my knees weak but I still stood waiting for her "You lied. You lied and you lied and you lied and I, the fucking idiot that I am believed you. Well, guess what? I'm not that person anymore. I will pull this trigger, and I will kill you.''

My hands shook as I held her gun. The grief made me manic. "No, you won't, baby; you love me." She held her hands out as she stepped closer. "I will, Emily. I've worked enough cases to know how to get away with it, too." Emily stood still. We both had a deep history—a story full of lies back when her hair was lighter and her smile a little brighter. Everything was a pile of lies.

Lauren Reynolds and Y/n Doyle.

"Pull the trigger" Emily warned as her feet moved slowly until her chest hit the barrel, the muzzle digging into her skin slightly "Do it Y/n, pull the trigger" she whispered. I closed my eyes as my hands shook again "I hate you" I muttered "I hate you and everything you put me through" I cried softly before I moved to hold the gun more steady.

"I love you, Y/n Y/m/n Prentiss." I felt her lips on my forehead before I opened my eyes again to see her, those dark coffee eyes I loved and missed so much. "I love you too, Emily," I pulled the trigger, making her gasp as I laughed, watching the panic in her eyes as she realised what I had done. I stepped back as she grabbed her chest, moving her fingers around, digging into her flesh almost. "Y/n/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"The safety is on, ever pull anything like that ever again and I will pull the fucking trigger no safety to protect you. understand?" I spoke leaning in to kiss her. "You're a psycho bitch" she laughed wrapping her arms around my neck "And yet you walked right to the gun" I chuckled before kissing her.

I met Emily when I had turned nineteen when she was Lauren going after my older brother Ian, trying to take him down and she had until he had come back claiming her from me. He wasn't after me, all these years later and it was still clear she meant more "I don't hate you" I whispered looking at her more tenderly.

"I know" she smiled.

[sequinsmile-x]

Cinereous

After a well-meaning but hurtful comment from a stranger, Aaron tries to make Emily feel better about her grey hair.

-x-

Hi besties,

Now you might be asking yourself, how is it possible that Vic saw Paget post that thirst trap and managed to turn it into an emotional/hurt comfort fic? And you'd be right to ask and I have two words for you - seasonal depression!!

In all seriousness, she switched my brain off and I knew I had to write SOMETHING about her grey hair, and this is what came out.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: very sweet, please floss.

Words: 3.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily laughs as she encourages her daughter backwards from the bakery’s counter, her hand on Violet’s shoulder as she squeezes lovingly, tugging her against her side. 

“Vi,” she chuckles, smiling down at her as the 10-year-old looks up at her with wide, excited eyes, “The cakes will still be there when it’s our turn,” she says as they take a step in tandem as the line they are standing in moves, “No need to press your face against the glass.” 

“But I’m so excited,” she says, practically bouncing on the spot, “It’s Vi and Mommy day.” 

Emily smiles and tucks some of Violet’s dark hair behind her ear, “I’m excited too baby.” 

It was something she’d started way back when it was just her, Aaron, and Jack and Violet was still a tiny dot growing beneath her skin. Emily never wanted Jack to feel like she loved the baby more than him, or that her love for him would change in any way when she arrived, so she’d made sure she had a ‘Jack and Emily day’ once every other week to make sure he had her full attention no matter what. They’d go to the zoo just the two of them, or out to eat at Jack’s favourite diner. Aaron loved it, he’d wave them off with a hug and a kiss and welcome them home in the same way, his love for them pressed against their skin as he listened to Jack talk at him about their day. 

Their days continued after Violet was born, albeit slightly differently in those first few weeks. Aaron would take Violet to a different room, would snuggle with his little girl just a few rooms away in case she needed feeding, and Emily and Jack would sit on the couch and watch a movie together, or they’d bake cookies. It was a tradition that had grown with them as a family. Her days with Jack had slowly turned into ‘Jack and Mom days’ and her teaching him how to drive. They’d always do something just the two of them when he was back home from college, even if it was just going to a diner where they used to split a serving of pancakes because he was too little to eat them all himself. 

She’d started doing it with Violet too, and then Hazel when she came along two years later. Her daughters may look alike, carbon copies of her - except for the dark hair they’d once shared now she’d grown out her grey - but they could not be more different. Violet had inherited her sweet tooth, so a trip to a bakery was always a necessity before they headed home from the aquarium or the planetarium. Her excitement at having one on one time with her mother almost outmatched by being told she could pick whatever cake she wanted - no matter how much sugar was in it. 

Hazel was a little quieter, more reflective like her father and older brother and she loved going to the local library with Emily to pick out new books and take part in any programmes they were running. Even at almost 8 years old, her birthday just around the corner, Hazel loved snuggling with Emily in a chair, her fingers tangled in her grey hair as she fell asleep to her mother reading to her just like she had since before she could read herself. Emily soaked up every moment of it, well aware that in a few years time her little girls would rather spend time with their friends rather than her, a preemptive kind of grief threatening to fill her lungs at the thought of this part of her life being entirely over. 

“I’m going to get the red velvet,” Violet says, her bouncing side to side giving away her impatience at waiting in line, “What about you, Mom?” 

“I am going to get the chocolate I think.” 

Violet smiles up at her, “We should get Haze a doughnut. And Dad one of those croissants he likes.”

Emily nods, her hand on her daughter’s back as she guides her forward to the cashier, “Good idea,” she smiles at her, “Want to order?” 

Her eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically, smiling at the cashier who smiles back, “Can we please get a cup of Earl Grey, a lemonade, a slice of red velvet and chocolate cake to stay? And a croissant and a glazed doughnut to go?”

The cashier nods as she presses the buttons on the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 

Emily shakes her head and takes over, “That’s it thank you,” she looks down at Violet, “Why don’t you go get a table and I’ll pay?” 

Violet nods and walks quickly, as close to a run as she can get without getting told to stop, choosing a table in Emily’s line of sight. She waves at her and Emily waves back, the usual mix of joy at watching her little girl grow up and sadness that she was no longer a tiny little thing curled up on her chest churning low in her gut. She turns back to the cashier, her card in hand to pay, and she catches the other woman’s eyes. 

“Your granddaughter is adorable.” 

A laugh catches in her throat, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she starts to correct her, but then her gaze catches her grey hair lying over her shoulder, a particularly light streak, almost white, standing out in the well lit bakery. It felt like a knock to her confidence, all the joy she’d found in not dying her hair anymore, in the way the grey seemed to drive her husband crazy gone in an instant. Turned to dust by a stranger who was trying to be nice but had somehow hit on her biggest insecurity when it came to being an older mother. 

It wasn’t lost on Emily that she was old enough to be the mom of some of the other parents at school drop-off. She didn’t care that she was on the outside or that she wasn’t in the strangely clicky group chats, she’d spent most of her life being an outsider anyway, but she did care more than she’d care to admit that it made her feel old sometimes. She loved her life, loved her children and her husband, and she wouldn’t change it or them for anything, but there were times when she wished she’d met Aaron a little earlier. That life hadn’t thrown everything it had at both of them before they had a chance to find each other in the wreckage of who they’d once been.

Right now, more than anything, she wished she hadn’t used the pandemic’s lockdown to stop dying her hair and grow it out.

Emily smiles tightly and nods, “Thanks,” she says, tapping her card to pay, “Can you bring it all over when it’s ready?” 

The cashier nods, “Of course.” 

Emily slips her wallet into her purse and walks over to Violet, slipping into the booth next to her. She tries to shake off the feeling, a lack of confidence she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager settling into her bones as she blows out a slow breath. 

“Are you okay, Mommy?” 

She looks over at Violet, sees the genuine concern shining in her eyes, and she nods, smiling as she slips her arms around her little girl’s shoulders and pulls her closer. She presses a kiss against the top of her head as she settles against her, “I’m more than okay, Vi. I’m here with you.” 

___

Aaron can tell something is wrong as soon as they get home.

Violet is just as excited as she always is, talking all about her one-on-one time with Emily as she passed him a paper bag with a croissant in it and Hazel a doughnut. Emily seems a little subdued, something hiding behind her smile that he knows she’s hiding from the girls but that he can see. They stopped being able to hide anything from each other a long time ago, so attuned to the other’s feelings their friends often joked that they must be able to read each other's minds. 

He knows better than to ask her about it whilst the girls are awake, so he doesn’t mention it. He simply lets his hand linger at her lower back a little longer than usual when they slip past each other in the kitchen, his smile soft as their eyes meet and she nods at him, her hand on his shoulder as she squeezes lightly. She purposely avoids him the moment Violet and Hazel are asleep and they both know it, but he lets her have it, knows that whatever is wrong she needs time to get her head around it first.

He marks some papers for his students, his two classes a week at the academy enough to keep his brain busy and to stop him from going crazy with nothing to do, and then he heads upstairs. He smiles when he walks into their bedroom, love and contentment settling in his chest when he sees Emily sitting up in their bed. 

He had loved a lot of versions of Emily over the years. He’d loved her even when she wasn’t his, when she was his friend and he thought that a future like this, his life, was nothing more than a pipe dream. He’d loved her as his girlfriend, then his fiancee and then his wife. He’d loved her when she was pregnant, lamenting the stretch of her skin and the ache that came with it. He’d loved her when she stood in their bathroom, her fingers glancing through her hairline, grimacing at the flash of grey in her roots before she’d stopped dying it a few years ago. He thinks this might be his favourite version of her though. All grey hair and fine lines and delightfully his as she sat with her glasses perched on her nose with her favourite book laid against her thighs. They’d lived a life together, and they had so much more to go, and on his good days, he could let himself believe that he deserved this. That he deserved her. 

“I’m just going to get ready for bed, okay?” He says, and she looks up at him, a tightness to her smile that had been there all evening as she nods.

“Okay, honey.” 

His heart aches as she looks back down at her book and he heads into the ensuite, sighing sadly as he closes the door behind him. He spots a bag from Emily’s favourite cosmetic store on the counter and he smiles to himself, content to look after her by putting her new things away until she lets him look after her in the way he wants to. He furrows his brow when he opens the bag, confusion washing over him when he pulls out one of two boxes of dark brown, almost black, hair dye. It was a brand she’d used for a long time, but one she hadn’t in years. 

She’d first mentioned growing her hair out when they were first locked down in 2020. They were both working from home, and the kids were all doing school at home, and any spare time she used to have to do things like top up her roots every few weeks slipped away. She’d mumbled that she was thinking about just letting it go grey one evening, looking at herself in the mirror, her exhaustion clear as she glared a box of dye that matched the one he was currently holding. The thought of it made his brain briefly switch off, the thought of his sexy, amazing, wife with beautiful grey hair making all the blood rush somewhere else before she cleared her throat at him, bringing him back to himself just in time to see the confused look on her face. 

Somewhere between his obvious reaction and her own desire to do it, she let it grow out. There were a few times she’d considered giving up, but he’d always encouraged her. Told her how good she looked and how much he loved her, and that if she really wanted to dye it again he’d help. She’d always smile at him and then kiss him, and any thought other than each other disappeared as they got lost in each other. 

She hadn’t mentioned doing anything to with her hair in years, and he feels his confusion turn into concern. He walks back out into the bedroom, box of dye still in hand, “I didn’t know you were thinking of dying your hair again.” 

She goes tense, cursing herself internally for forgetting to put the hair dye away, and she blows out a slow breath, her lips pressed together as she looks up at him, “Yeah. I…just thought about it today.” 

There’s something about the way she says it, the catch in her throat that he doesn’t miss, that has him walking over to her side of the bed. He sits down, his thigh pressed against hers, and he puts the box down on her nightstand, “Em-”

“It’s my hair, Aaron,” she says, harsher than she intended. She sighs, guilt flooding through her as she closes her book and puts it on the nightstand, her eyes catching the box of hair dye, “I can dye it if I want to.” 

“I know that, sweetheart,” he says, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of it somehow permeating the comforter and her pyjama pants, “But I also know that this hasn’t come from nowhere.” 

She sighs and shakes her head, her jaw tight with anger that wasn’t aimed at him as she chokes on a laugh, “It’s different for you, you know? Men get older and the world loves them for it. People see the grey in your hair and it makes you more distinguished. They see it in mine…” 

He waits as she drifts off, but when she doesn’t carry on he squeezes her leg again and hooks his thumb under her chin to encourage her to look at him, tears making her eyes shine from behind her glasses, “What happened?” 

“When Vi and I…” she swallows thickly, annoyed at herself for still being so upset all these hours later, “When we went to that bakery today, the cashier thought Violet was my granddaughter.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he grasps her leg a little tighter, understanding and irritation on her behalf washing over him like a wave, “Oh, Em-”

“And I know it’s stupid to be upset about it,” she says, taking off her glasses so she can wipe away the tear that had slipped past her lashline, “She’s a stranger, she doesn’t know us. But I can’t stop thinking about it,” she shakes her head and laughs humourlessly, “How many other people see me with Vi and Haze and make that assumption?” She blows out a shaky breath, and it skips across his cheek as he shifts closer, one hand still on her leg as he wraps the other one around her back, “I’m their mom, Aaron. I fought so hard to be be their mom and…it just got to me today. That’s all.”

They lapse into silence for a moment before he leans forward and kisses her, the press of his nose warm against her cheek before he pulls back, “First of all, it’s not stupid to be upset about this. What do we always tell the kids?” 

She rolls her eyes lovingly at him, stamping a kiss against his palm as he cups her cheek, “That their feelings are valid.” 

“Exactly,” he says, smiling when she does, a bit of her slipping out from behind the sadness she’d been wearing like a mask all evening, “So your feelings are valid too. I’m sorry the cashier said that, and I’m sure if you want her to Penelope could find out who she is and make her life very inconvenient for a couple of days,” his smile gets wider when she laughs this time, her eyes sparkling for a different reason, “And whilst I may not be able to dismantle the patriarchy for you singlehandedly, I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, so if you want to dye it because you want to, not because you think you should, I’ll do it for you. I’ll open up my own little salon in our bathroom.”

She shakes her head at him, not able to find it in herself to be furious at him for being able to make her feel better in a matter of minutes, “You would make a very sexy stylist.” 

He leans forward to kiss her again, taking the opportunity to pull her hair tie out, letting her hair tumble down to her shoulders, giving him a perfect view when he pulls back to look at her, “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles when she blushes, unable to look away from his intense gaze as the hand on her cheek holds her in place, “And thats true no matter what.” 

Her tongue licks her lower lip, chasing the taste of him lingering there, and the insecurity she’d felt all day starts to melt away. It’s replaced by love for her husband, for the way he made her feel gorgeous in an old t-shirt of his with not a scrap of makeup on her face, and all of a sudden the misguided attempt to be nice from a stranger doesn’t mean anything to her. She leans forward to kiss him, her hand hooked around the back of his head as she pulls him closer.

“Maybe you should remind me how much you like my grey hair,” she whispers against his lips, a smile breaking out across her face as he grips her tighter, his hand shifting from her thigh to her waist. 

Aaron smiles, his forehead against hers, a sense of victory washing over him for being able to cheer her up, “I can do that-”

He’s cut off by a knock on the slightly open door and pulls back from Emily just in time to see Hazel’s face appear around it. Her eyes are bleary and shining, her hair in disarray and her pjyamas creased, “Mommy? Daddy? I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, baby,” Emily says, opening her arms up as Aaron pulls back from her entirely, standing up to give his girls some room, “Come here.” 

Hazel doesn’t need asking twice, and she’s across the room in a second, smiling shakily at Aaron as he kisses the top of her head and says he’ll be back in a minute, disappearing into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. Emily wraps her arms around Hazel, stamping a kiss against her forehead as she snuggles against her, her presence in their bed for the rest of the evening an unspoken agreement between them. 

“You okay, Haze?” Emily asks, resting her cheek on top of her head, taking a moment to breathe in her shampoo. Hazel nods and reaches out for Emily’s hair, twirling it around her fingers like she had ever since she was small, a way of self-soothing she’d discovered as a toddler. 

“What’s that?” Hazel asks, purposely diverting any attention away from her nightmare by pointing at the box of dye still on the nightstand. 

Emily runs a hand up and down her daughter’s back, “That is hair dye,” she says, tilting her head to look down at Hazel, smiling when she’s met with the furrowed brow she’d inherited from Aaron, “It changes the colour of your hair.”

Hazel’s frown only gets deeper, “You’re changing your hair?” 

She blows out a breath and shrugs. After her conversation with Aaron, she was more sure she wouldn’t than she had been when she got home, but there was still a tiny bit of doubt lingering, “I don’t know.” 

Hazel sighs as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, “I hope you don’t.” 

The absolute conviction in her voice makes Emily laugh, “How come, baby?” 

Hazel shrugs and lays her head back against Emily’s shoulder, her focus on the hair twirled around her fingers, “It’s pretty already. You don’t need to change it.” 

It removes the last bit of doubt, the remaining insecurity slipping away at her daughter’s innocent comment. Her and Aaron’s love for her enough to warm her from the inside out. She kisses Hazel’s forehead.

“You’re right, sweet girl,” she says, kissing her forehead again, “It is pretty. I won’t change it, I promise.” 

She returns the hair dye the next day. 

[call-sign-jinx]

Aaron Hotchner - Reckless

summary - you disobey hotch's orders, which results in a very heated argument between the two of you in his office.

warnings - hotch is not with haley, mentions of fire, mentions of guns, slight mentions of violence, confessing (u have to rlly squint to see it)

Main Masterlist Aaron Hotchner Masterlist

a/n - hiya girlies! i have only just realised how gorgeous hotch actually is, so i wanted to write this before i get writer's block becos i just know im gonna get it at some point. ta ta my lovelies! requests r open! xx

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

I never thought I had fit in with the BAU, albeit I had only been part of the team for 2 months, everyone just had that connection. And I didn't. I hated it, I always cracked jokes, tried to lighten the mood. Sometimes they laughed, but one person who never even smiled was Aaron Hotchner.

We were working a case down in Vidalia, Georgia. There was a serial killer who targeted blonde girls aged between 5 and 8. This guy was good. He never left the crime scene messy, always tidied up after himself without leaving a trace of evidence.

But around a day ago, he had slipped up. He left a picture of a house with a family of four in front of it. A mother, father, teenage boy and a little girl who looked around 6 or 7 years old. It had a date on the back of it - 14th June 1988.

This was big, the UnSub could be one of the men in this picture, we assume the teenage boy.

"They're the O'Driscolls. Tragic what happened to them." One of the local police say as they look over my shoulder at the picture.

"You knew of them?" I turned to the police officer and raised a brow. She nodded her head with a sad look on her face.

"Yeah, I was friends with the little girl, Frankie. Her older brother, Jack, always creeped me out. Always stayed to himself, barely came out of his room. And when he did, he'd bully Frankie." She shivered as she recalled the memory of them.

"Then the fire happened. All of them except Jack died, he got put in the foster system and no one has seen him since. Except around a week ago. He looked pretty angry." I furrowed my brows at the woman.

"And you didn't think to inform us?" Aaron then made his way over to us and took the picture from my hands.

"Can you tell us where he lives? Or where we could possibly find him?" The woman nodded then told Hotch that he had a shack he used to go to as a kid about 3 miles West from where we were.#

We immediately headed to the shack, put bullet-proof vests on and split up to go through different entrances to check the shack. I booted the door in before Hotch signaled for us to and pointed my gun at Jack as soon as I saw him.

"FBI! Get down on the ground and put your hands on you head!" Jack did as he was told, and I cuffed him after. I turned to see Hotch giving me the dirtiest glare I had ever seen. I was going to get rinsed when we get back to Quantico.

We took him in for questioning, we only had 72 hours to prove that he was guilty. We tried and tried but he wouldn't break. Until we had 30 minutes of the 72 hours left. I then went into the interrogation room where he was and showed him the picture. His body language immediately changed.

"You know what I think Jack?" I raised my brows at him, using a condescending tone.

"What?" Jack replied in a monotone voice, he leaned back in his chair and sighed in annoyance.

"I think you were jealous of your little sister. As soon as she was born, you hated her because all the attention shifted from you to her. Mummy and Daddy didn't care about you anymore. And because you were so angry about this, you started the fire that killed your family. You ended up in the foster system, and eventually ended back where you started." Jack suddenly became angry. His nostrils flared, jaw clenched, fists tightly clenched, eyes squinting and glaring right at me.

"Shut. Up." His breathing became jagged. His brows furrowed and raised and he purses his lips.

"And when all your memories started to come back you got angry from the memory of your parents and little sister. So you used all these little girls as a substitute for your sister. And you have the buried underneath the shack we found you in!" Jack slammed his hands down on the table and stood up. He leaned slightly closer to me.

"They're not buried under the shack! They're under my mom and dad's house!" He spat at me quicker than he could stop himself. I smirked at him and crossed my arms.

"Thank you." I looked to the mirror in the interrogation room to which I know Hotch was behind the whole time.

I walked out of the interrogation room and burst into the room. They were all astonished, we hadn't gotten anything out of him in nearly the whole 3 days we held him.

"Good job." Aaron said monotonously. He was still pissed. We then processed him and everyone got on the jet back home.

The ride home was silent, everyone could tell Hotch was pissed. This wasn’t good. Not only did I already not fit in, Hotch was pissed with me now.

——————————————————————————

I was sat in Hotch’s office. He told me to wait there while he sorted some things out. I was nervous. I started biting the skin off my lips, twirling my hair and tapping my foot on the floor.

My body stiffened and breath caught in my throat when I heard the door open then close shut. Was he going to shout? Suspend me? Fire me? All these questions running through my head, but he hadn't said a word when he sat down in his chair.

All he did was glare. Eyebrows knit together, mouth straight, nostrils relaxed. He wasn't pleased with me at all. I'm surely fucked now.

"How stupid are you?" My jaw went slack. I've never heard him speak like this to anyone in the team before after they disobeyed orders.

"How stupid do you have to be to go guns blazing into a house with a potential serial killer inside and just hope for him to not attack you straight away? Why do you have to be so reckless?" Tears began to brim my eyes, I haven't been shouted at like this since high school.

"Well?!" He stood up and placed his hands on the desk. His glare pointing straight at me. I didn't know what to say. My mouth kept opening and closing, every time I thought of what to say but dismissed it as it wouldn't diffuse the situation.

"I'm sorry, sir. It was a spur of the moment. It will not happen again." I looked down at my palms, picking the skin at my fingernails. I began to tap my foot on the floor faster, get more and more anxious. I only did it to prove myself to the team. I didn't mean to cause any harm.

"What if he had shot you? Stabbed you? Set a trap? You would've been seriously hurt and I don't know what I'd do if-" He stopped himself dead in his tracks. He straightened his posture and his mouth was in a very tight straight line. I looked up to him, confusion painted on my face.

"What?" The tears began to stop, I realised he actually cares about me. I never suspected he actually did.

"I care for every member of my team. It wouldn't be good if you had gotten hurt. You need to be more careful. You may leave now." I hesitated for a second, wanting to ask him what he meant exactly. But instead I nodded my head, got up and walked out of the office.

Aaron Hotchner, the guy who never smiles, cares about me?

[wren-galathinyus]

a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!

as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut

-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!

-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!

-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk

-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂

-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)

-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace

-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes

-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though

-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)

-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece

-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins

-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now

-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design

-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend

-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying

okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!

[luxetobscuritas-blog]

JOMP Book Photo Challenge / November / 23 / squad goals

One summer day, 18 years ago, my older brother tossed me a book and said, “You need to read this.” That book was The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, and I can honestly say that it changed my life. This is the book that made me fall in love with reading.

The Outsiders is, hands down, the definition of “squad goals.” We all know the idea of a “squad” has been thrown around a lot lately (thanks, Instagram), but the Greasers? Holy shit. They were the original squad. And I will fight anyone who wants to argue with me about that. They’re a group of misfits, a group of people who find strength in each other in the face of a world that doesn’t always get them or understand them. The Greasers may not have had a lot of money, privilege, or easy answers, but they had each other—and in many ways, that’s all that mattered. They had each other’s backs no matter what, and that kind of loyalty, that kind of connection? It’s what we all dream of in the groups we surround ourselves with.

"When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home."

[lying-on-floors]

Okay, so, season 2 episode 7 of Arcane gave us that "almost everyone is alive" timeline, which I love, but I don't love that people are implying that Claggor and Mylo were together or into each other. It's weird.

Like, yeah, they're not actually related, but they're brothers. And I didn't see anything "romantic" or "charged" between them. Like, this:

And the look after are normal sibling behaviors?? Like, when you're close to your sibling, casual affection is very common. I lean on my brother all the time, I hold his hand on occasion, and I hug him. That's not weird, it's normal. Im the same way with my sis-in-law, and neither bat an eye.

I mean, ship whatever you want, but sometimes affection between two people is just simple affection bc you love them. It's not because you "want them."

Especially with siblings, like, I feel like step-family dating has unfortunately become too normalized within media. Even everyday people online will see a brother and sister being close and think, "Oh, they're doing it." Like, no.

I mean, if you're posing with your ass on your sibling or in suggestive poses, then yeah, that's weird, but if you're posting a picture of you and your sibling embracing, that's not weird.

Idk, as someone who is close to their older brother, we weren't sexualized persey, but it was weird when people made incest jokes or asked if we were dating. It's very uncomfortable and not funny at all. It makes us feel sick. Like, we're close but not like that. Idk, just, don't be weird, guys.

Not like that. That's bad weird, not good weird.

[crtter]

Why, that’s my main man Louis XVI! We all know him. You know, married Marie Antoinette, helped with the American Revolution War, lost his head during the French Revolution… Louisville in Kentucky is named after him! I like this portrait. It has him wearing his coronation robes. Very snazzy. It wasn’t painted at the time of his coronation though. He was 19 when he ascended to the throne after his grandfather, Louis XV, died from smallpox. He got a different portrait of him painted then. This is a later piece, from the 1780s, if I’m not mistaken. I think he’s in his mid-thirties here.

Anyway, his non-king name was Louis Auguste, he was born in August 23, 1754 and he has never caught a single break in his life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the greater scheme of things the French Revolution was a net positive for the world. Like, my country could still be a colony to this day if Napoleon hadn’t ascended to the throne and scared the king of Portugal into going hiding in Brazil. But you can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Nothing ever went his way!

To start off, he was never meant to be king at all and, in his heart, he’d probably would rather have been anything else. His father was the next in the line of succession, and after him, it would be his older brother, who his family like, HEAVILY favored over him and didn’t even try to hide it. This meant he didn’t get nearly as good of an education as his brother did, getting stuck with an elderly, very conservative tutor who mostly only taught him religion and morals. But his brother would die at only nine years old (Louis was six then) from a bone infection after a bad fall from being pushed a little too hard while roughhousing with his friends. Then his father would die as well, of tuberculosis, when he was eleven, and his mother would follow a bit over a year later, having fallen into a deep depression after her husband’s death. So most of his immediate family drops dead and Louis becomes heir to the throne. Turns out he couldn’t have done so in worst circumstances: he inherited a lot of debt from his predecessors, had to deal with the repercussions of an unusually harsh winter that destroyed crops all over France and he just didn’t have a single authoritarian bone in his body.

It’s not like he was unintelligent. Much to the contrary, actually: he taught himself how to speak Italian, Spanish and English (the latter, reportedly, because he loved ships and navigation and he wanted to read Captain James Cook’s memoirs and Robinson Crusoe in the language they were originally written), had his own personal library, mastered advanced calculus and was and passionate about cartography, clockmaking and locksmithing. He was far from a tyrant or out of touch with his people either. He liked to secretly visits poor families in person and give them money that had been reserved for his own personal expenses, often took decisions that were the opposite of what was advised to him because, in his own words, “it might not be what’s best for the country but it’s what the people want and I want people to like me”, and held progressive values for a man of his time, passing or at least attempting to pass laws prohibiting the persecution of religious minorities, abolishing torture, serfdom and the death penalty.

So, why did Louis XVI die in the way he did? There were a lot of factors, of course. One of them is just because he was a symbol of the monarchy that had been plunging the country into more and more debt for the past 100 years, but a key one was that he was just awfully indecisive. It was it hard for him to make important decisions as quickly as he should and easy for him to be persuaded by other people of what he should do, which made for some pretty inconsistent, often poor results. He also hated attracting attention to himself so he refused getting statues and paintings made to celebrate his accomplishments, which made the public largely unaware of the good things he did while VERY aware of his shortcomings, real and imagined, because political cartoon artists had a field day with him and his wife. His contemporaries also thought of him as kind of uncouth and not very bright due to the fact he was shy and awkward. He was a bad public speaker, prone to going into uncomfortable silences mid-conversation and had a hard time looking people in the eye, which gave him an uncharismatic reputation. But, most importantly, Louis just… didn’t fight back. He was chronically insecure. Eager for approval. He could’ve easily thwarted the initial revolts with his personal army but he felt like raising weapons against his own people was as unforgivable as doing so against his own children. So he made a point to forbid his men from attacking the revolutionaries and to try and talk it out with them and give in to their demands, eventually even letting himself and his family to be taken into house arrest to Paris.

More things happen after that, but the gist of it is, even though Louis was technically in decent terms with the revolutionaries and on board with being stripped of all his power and becoming a constitutional monarch, even writing to his brothers to demand that they do not try anything counterrevolutionary and that he didn’t need their help, he felt like a prisoner and that his children were being mistreated. So he and Marie Antoinette decided to take a leap of faith and flee Paris to cross the Austrian border. The thing is, Louis genuinely thought that the revolutionary efforts were concentrated in Paris and that people elsewhere still liked him and would support his decision to escape. He was VERY wrong about that. They were eventually recognized and apprehended because, well. Louis’ face was literally on the money and someone eventually went “Wait a minute… don’t I know this guy from somewhere?”. The people were shocked by his betrayal and secret plotting with foreigners to escape given that he had previously seemed so cooperative. So he and his family are put in an actual prison this time, and he’s eventually tried for high treason and crimes against the state. By then he knows he’s cooked and that he’s going to be killed but he seems oddly resigned to it. I guess he just gave up.

Later on when his lawyer and former minister goes to tell him, in tears, that he has indeed, been convicted to death he just thanks him for his hard work and tells him that “We’ll meet again in a happier life!” One of the last things he said at all, on the way to the scaffold, was asking if there have been any news of the La Pérouse expedition lately. which was this version of the Captain Cook expeditions of his he had organized a few years before it all went to shit. Funny little man, he was. He was scared of cats because he got a nasty scratch on the butt from his grandfather’s cat as a child, but he dutifully took care of this very cat until the day it died after his grandfather’s passing. He liked to stealthily make his way out of windows and climb on the roofs of the palace of Versailles at night to hunt for nocturnal animals. His favorite horses were named Escargot and Desiré.

I can do this trick with some other VERY random subjects too. Someone look up “French king”, get the first picture you see out of Google Images and show it to me on this post. Don’t give me a name. Just the picture or a link to the picture. I’m going to either awe you or creep you out. No middle ground.

[tooate]

me: yea i just didn’t feel like slaying the boots house down cunt today i wanted to sleep in :(

my coworker, without missing a beat: it’s okay nat it happens :\

[cherrirui-official]

I hope u guys don't mind me posting these au doodles while I work on things ahaha

I also gave JD slightly longer hair in these doodles as a funny haha but I don't think it's funny anymore he looks genuinely good with his hair like that ahahaha I hope you're not mad at me for changing his au design a bit

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What was the moment/scene that officially cemented you as a Sontails shipper? Or was it multiple?

Ah good question!

So if you've seen my sontails/sonine posting you've probably heard the story of me getting into sontails (no worries if you haven't)

Just to summarize, my journey started with Sonine and Movie!Sontails. The Grim scene in S1 E6 of Prime and the entire bar scene in Movie 2 just blasted me with second hand embarrassment (the good kind) that (despite me being eh about shipping them at that time) made be seriously go "Okay if just brothers why are these scenes directed this way". Sonic's feelings aside, I felt I knew in those moments that Nine and movie!Tails had possibly been written to have a subtextual crush on Sonic, and strong feelings in general. This was...my gateway.

But an "officially cemented" moment is a bit hard for me to specifically narrow down. I can tell you that by the time I'd been checking the Sonine tag after starting S2 of Prime and finished S2 I had to come to terms with the fact that I genuinely saw something there between the two of them (and was feeling frustrated that no one else was seemingly seeing it). At that point I'd settled as "I like Sonine but that doesn't mean I have to like all of Sontails".

Then I rewatched movie 2 a couple times and had to (similarly) come to terms with the fact that I was genuinely frustrated to not really see other people commenting on what I'd seen as potential subtext regarding Movie!Tails' feelings and that I liked this version as well.

So my gateway into Sontails was Prime and Sonic Movie 2, but accepting I liked most versions of Sontails/Sontails in general and not just a few specific versions was a bit of a slow journey. All I can say is that by the time I finished playing Colors Ultimate and got well into the Archie comics I knew I enjoyed Sontails just as much as I had come to enjoy Sonine, and was equally as obsessed with the dynamics.

[moeblob]

Karen: LMAO every guy I meet reminds me of my big brothers that's so funny except if Paul is already my brother and you're also a brother that's a bit awkward, huh Hot bartender: THATS MOVING REALLY FAST AND I LIKE YOU AS A PERSON BUT - Karen: having my brothers date would be SO WEIRD Hot bartender: Well on the bright side I literally cannot speak more than five words to him so we aren't dating because he's so cute

(Everyone else: that is somehow the most depressing bright side we never want to hear)

[demons-i-get]

WAIT BIG BRAINED THOUGHT:

Sam does smth stupid hoping Dean won't find out.

Someone rats Sam out to Dean.

Sam gets in trouble and a lecture from Dean (bc Dean is a parent and he is Sam's parent I will not accept criticism on this matter).

Later, Sam makes a group chat consisting of everyone who could have told on him to Dean and just sends this video:

[sysig]

Anime good :) (Patreon)