#let people process without blowing up their mentions

[kendrixtermina]

I swear a lot of these people seem to have Rei mixed up with Anthy from Utena & just never paid any attention to her character or statements that were made about her by the staff (I have a thinkpiece written about it about that here and here) aside from heavy cherrypicking to support their fanwank. (For starters, Rei's problem/flaw isn't mindless obedience, it's resigned fatalism, and she was very much supposed to come across as someone who's gloomy & difficult to approach, not whatever the haters chose to plaster on her. Though that is an issue that you see with ppl with less expressive personality types that ppl will just project stuff on them. Even regardless of any ship stuff that's just quite unjust to Rei.)

To the extent that Rei can be said to be a fantasy of any sort, Asuka is also a fantasy. She's literally a genius with model looks, basically the anime version of that guy who became a harvard doctor a navy seal and an astronaut, and a "hot foreigner" trope to boot.

They're representing contradictory appeals (and on a deeper level, various conflicting psychological drives & needs), like emotional safety & excitement, sadism & masochism... both are asignd both negatively & positively connotated concepts.

Not to mention, she's right there with Misato & Asuka in the "people are complex and have different sides to them that can be challenging" dialogue in EoE (the one where all three are shown in the train and/or naked), indeed she gets the dialogue explaining it to Shinji - & she's a good example here because he's been avoiding her ever since finding out all that complicated stuff about her origins.

He'd go to her if he wasn't scared, so Asuka's rightfully pissed to be his last choice & he's probably also going to the person who always puts him down & rejects him because when you hate youself being bashed feels like being told the truth & everything else can't be trusted or brings up insecure feelings. So the two represent a "crab bucket".(though in the end he shies away even from Asuka)

This is also kinda reflected in the ep 26 where he wishes Rei was just a regular classmate with no connection to any mad science stuff, so he can have a normal classroom romance with her. (meanwhile Asuka becomes a childhood friend, bond comradery without any lust or competition complicating it, though it's ego flattering if she still shows a bit of interest...) but that's of course not the reality he lives in.

This is definitely a point where Shinji dropped the ball when Rei needed him (although one might wonder how much he could even do on his own, similar as with Misato.) - he's totally overwhelmed, has lost everything at this point & has no reliable adult figures left to talk to.

& then the last Rebuild basically ask what if that was different. What if he had more processing time & positive adult role models (the grownup classmates) - it's very much bringing up the catharsis that was tragically thwarted in the OG where Rei blows up "before she could convey her heart"(as per the EoE booklet) & Shinji just keeps avoiding her.

Here Rei gets to figure out & express her feelings, & we see that given more processing time, Shini was, in fact, capable of accepting her just as she is ("Ayanami is Ayanami"), & afterwards this is the catalyst that leads him to confront Gendo (along with the help he got from everyone else but this is defs a big one, seeing how he carries the player sh gave him like a talisman)

- and he learns to get used to/ tolerate positive treatment more broadly. ("why would you all be so nice to me!" "...because we care about you?")

(It also shows Rei getting the parental love she never got/ futilely longed for from Gendo from Grownup!Hikari instead.)

Just look at the scene where Mari & Shinji have followed Gendo into minus space and she's like, "it's going to be difficult to catch him..." but Shinji just shakes his head & calls for Rei, with total faith that she's going to let him take EVA 01 from right under Gendo's nose

Quite some stretch from the Shinji who doubted any gesture of goodwill & frantically feared that ppl would stop wanting him the moment they're out of earshot

Additional Reishin Thoughts

I’ve been thinking about my OTP again and why it’s so hated by the fandom. One misconception I think a lot of people have is that it’s the “easy” ship compared to Asushin and that it would be a submissive tradwife marriage. Rei still challenges Shinji to not just run away, grow up and learn to love himself and challenges his worldview of demanding validation from others by calling him out for never trying to understand anyone else.

People who claim it’s incest ignore that in 3.33, Shinji wasn’t really upset about Rei’s origins, just that he failed to save the Rei he knew. Rei is sort of a metaphor for acceptance. Shinji accepts that Rei Q is still Rei even if she doesn’t have all her memories and him learning about her origins is less to squick people out and more a lesson about how you can’t have the good without the bad when it comes to people you care for.

I think some people are projecting their issues with traditional families onto this pairing and their feminist critiques are actually quite demeaning to Rei. Her whole arc is about breaking free and proving she’s not just Gendo’s replacement goldfish. I don’t think she’d be a submissive tradwife and is perfectly capable of holding her own. Shinji has his flaws but he respects her and wouldn’t treat her like a 50s housewife. I think a lot of people let their disgust towards this ship get in the way of understanding what it is and ignore the beauty of it.

What makes it appealing to me is that it’s the story of two lonely kids helping each other grow and face both internal and external challenges and gaining a deep emotional understanding. I respect people who prefer Asushin or Kawoshin for whatever reasons they have. I just wish that same respect could be afforded back.

[transannabeth]

what we don't need to be doing is tagging someone who talked about or made a video about a person who died a few days later. we especially don't need to be tagging them asking 'what did you do' or 'how do you feel'

probably weird and bad? i dunno maybe leave them alone

[reidmania]

ILL ALWAYS COME GET YOU | SPENCER REID

description ;

Drinking your feelings after a bad day isn’t always a great idea, good thing your boyfriend, Spencer will always come get you.

Warnings ;

Fluff, slight angst but nothing crazy I dont think there is any gender mentioned, but let me know if there is, Mentions alcohol consumption, bad day at work, crying, basically spencer just comforting the fuck out of drunk reader. I think thats it.

a/n ;

i need spencer reid to comfort me when im drunk. NOT MY GIF!!

There was heavy blows of cold air that passed through the streets, the ones which were only being lit by the half broken street lights on every corner.

You could hear the faint sound of the music playing inside the bar that you had just stumbled out of, mixed with the cars driving past on the street. After maybe 5 drinks too many, everything was a little bit blurry, everything sort of sounded the same all at once.

Shaky hands reached for the phone that was buried somewhere in your big jacket pockets. The jacket was big and warm — not enough to shield you from the cold air.

Was it a smart decision to go to the bar and drink your body weight in alcohol — no, but emotional and stressed, you weren’t completely thinking straight when leaving work at merely 5pm, it had been hours, nearing 11.

It was meant to just be a couple of drinks to take the pressure off, then when the bartender asked you if you were okay, and the tear-flood started, every drink after that was a no brainer, soon enough you had enough to no longer worry about the damage the amount of alcohol you were consuming would do to your bank account.

Your hands fumbled with your phone, grateful for face ID since you doubted you would be coordinated enough to type your password without messing it up countless times and ending up locking yourself out of it.

It was a slight struggle trying to press on your contacts, when a few — probably just as drunk people, walked out of the bar behind you, reminding you that you were still stood in the doorway. After you shuffled over slightly, now out of the way. Your eyes stared at Spencer’s contact through blurry vision, considering whether or not it was worth calling — He was still working when you last spoke, maybe he was still at the office, busy, or better yet in bed asleep.

After a small sigh left your lips, the warm air from your mouth contradicting the cold air on the streets, a stem of steam followed your breath, which you found fascinating in your drunken state for a moment, before your attention was pulled back to your phone by the ringing sound.

Seeing Spencer’s contact light up your phone brought a small smile to your sad face, you were quick to answer, yet it took a minute to realise you had to put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You heard Spencers voice, softening a piece of your chest slightly. You assumed maybe he had been saying hello for the few seconds it had taken for you to pull your phone to your ear.

“Hi” You muttered back, drunk feet shuffling slightly as your words slurred. There were a few people still wandering around, going in and out of the bar, talking to each other or giving you strange looks which would’ve made you a little more insecure if the alcohol didn’t influence that part of your mind.

“Hey angel.” Spencer said, letting out a soft sigh of relief hearing your voice. “Where are you? You aren’t home” He said, voice itching with slight concern.

Your lips parted as you realised he had come home and you weren’t there — which would’ve been confusing because he knew you finished work hours ago, maybe you should have told him beforehand that you were planning on drinking your feelings in tequila shots.

“Im drunk” You said, not quite processing the question you had been asked.

You could hear Spencer chuckle on the other side of the phone, “I can tell baby, Where are you?” He asked, his voice was so soft and gentle, it almost made you emotional.

“Um” You hummed, spinning on your heels which only caused you to stumble slightly over your phone feet as you looked at the bar, which had its name written across the top, only that was a bit harder to read within your blurry vision.

“I dont know.” You pouted slightly, “That one bar” You muttered, hoping maybe he would know the exact one you were talking about. You assumed he would — it was the closest bar to your shared home, and the one you two went most often.

“Yeah?” He muttered, you nodded. Yet he couldn’t see that. There was a sound of slight shuffling on the other side of the phone, before you heard a door open and shut.

“I don’t think I can drive” You frowned as you looked around to try and find where your car was parked, you had come straight after work.

Spencer chuckled again. The sound was so comforting to you in your drunken state. Maybe it was silly how it made your downturned lips shift upwards into almost a smile.

“Im gonna pick you up, Angel. Just stay where you are for me okay?” He said. You heard another door open and close, which you assumed was his own car door. You hummed softly in agreement.

For the course of the next few minutes there was no conversation had between the two of you, you sat silently watching the cars on the street, while Spencer drove the few minutes down the road to the bar.

Soon the call ended, leaving you to frown as you stared at the phone, seeing it go back to where it was before you answered the call — on his contact. Before you even got the chance to call him back and cry about how rude it was for him to hang up on you like that, you heard your name being called.

Your head turned to the sound of his voice. He was standing there — still in his work clothes, making your frown only deepen, he hadn’t even had the chance to relax or change before he had to come pick you up.

“Hey baby” He cooed, taking your face in his hands as stood in front of you, taking in your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the soft skin on your face.

You subconsciously leaned into the touch of his warm hands as you looked up at him, “You’re here” You said, sighing softly as you relished the warmth his body radiated.

He nodded, “Of course Im here. You wanna get home? You’re freezing.” He said, shaking his head softly, moving his hands from your face to your hands — which were seemingly colder.

You nodded wordlessly, he took that and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, leading you to his car. You tried not to stumble but it wasn’t working, without Spencer there holding your body tightly against his own you probably would’ve already fallen flat on your face. If he noticed your stumbling — he didn’t say anything.

He helped you into the passenger seat, before leaning over you slightly to pull your seatbelt on, despite your best efforts to do it yourself.

“But my car—” You muttered, sitting up a bit straighter as the realisation dawned on you that your car would be left here, your head turned slightly as the passenger seat door closed, Spencer didn’t say anything, before walking over to the drivers seat.

He got in. He must of noticed your distressed eyes staring at him when he looked over at you, pulling his own seatbelt on. “Your car is fine honey, we can come get it in the morning.”

You chewed at your lip as you looked down, nodding wordlessly at his solution. He drove without saying anything, but his hand sat warmly ontop of your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down gently as your head laid back against the head rest.

When you arrived outside your shared home, Spencer was quick by your side helping you out of the car and into the house, where he sat you down on the couch. The house was warm, which lead you to believe he had turned the heater on when he got home — or before he left to pick you up.

He returned to the living room with a large glass of water. “Drink” He hummed, handing you the glass. His hand stayed holding it till he was sure you had it tight in your grasp.

You nodded, taking a few small sips of it, before lowering it slightly. He shook his head dismissively, “All of it, Honey.” He said, two of his fingers brushing under the glass, encouraging it back up towards your lips.

You sighed, before obeying. Taking a few larger sips of water before the glass grew empty. Spencer hummed approvingly, taking the glass from your hands; standing up.

“Where are you going?” You pouted, looking up at him with a small hitch in your eyebrows. You could feel the heat blowing down from the ceilings, onto your bare legs.

Spencer paused in his movements, giving you a soft smile as he noticed your concern — as if you believed maybe he was leaving. “Getting you more water” He said.

“Spence.” Your tone was warning, dismissive of the idea of having to drink another large glass of water. He just continued walking to the kitchen. You heard the tap turn on and off before he returned, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands.

“You don’t have to drink this one all in one, you can just sip it” He said, before taking a seat next to you again, watching your head nod up and down softly.

You chewed at your lip, avoiding his gaze as even in your drunken state, your mind couldn’t seem to stop working over time — which was what got you in this position in the first place.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, his body turning more towards your own. You looked up at him for a moment. It was a dangerous question he was asking, especially in your current state.

“I don’t know” You shrugged. It was the best you could muster up without spilling every little doubt in your mind. You didn’t know. You guessed that drinking your emotions automatically meant you weren’t okay, but it wasn’t like you were dying, or anything you wouldn’t get over.

Spencer sighed, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you in your own world, living in your head. He knew you did this — overthought everything, worked yourself up.

“Why did you drink?” He asked, realising this may get more of an answer out of you to what was actually the matter — what the cause of your drunken state was.

You leant into his shoulder slightly, head resting on his chest, under his chin. His arm wasted no time wrapping around you shoulder, only pulling you in closer.

Your voice was quiet, words still slight slurred as you spoke — but they had been the whole time. “Work sucked” Your voice was barley audible — Your boyfriend would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying you his full attention.

That was a rare occasion anyways.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asked, hand rubbing soothingly over your clothed arm. You were quiet for a moment as you felt the tears reoccur in the back of your eyes. It seemed they had been there all day.

You shrugged, only making his frown deepen. He realised quickly — talking about it was not what you needed right now, what you did need in this moment — he was unsure of.

So he asked; “What do you need honey?”

You felt a hot tear against your cheek at the question. You were quick to wipe it away, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, he could hear the sadness in your voice, the need and desperation for some sort of comfort.

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head, humming in response. “Course I can. Do you want to go change? Get into bed?” He asked softly, pulling you slightly away from his chest to look at your face, his own falling slightly as he noticed the big wet tears on your cheeks.

You nodded as a soft sob rippled from your throat, making his frown deepen. His thumb was instantly wiping your eyes softly. “Oh sweetheart” He cooed at your sad eyes. “Come on, lets go to bed”

Before you could even move to stand, his arms were around your waist, lifting you up gently. His hands holding you close to his chest as he walked to your shared bed room.

The entire way he was muttering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that everything was okay, that he loved you.

He placed you gently on the bed as he walked towards the wardrobe, He changed himself quickly into his pyjamas, any other time you would’ve cooed and adored the way he looked.

“Your clothes or mine?” He asked. It wasn’t an uncommon question, sometimes after showing together he would ask you if you wanted to wear his clothes or your own. It was a cute nothing.

“Yours.” You muttered, hand pulling to brush strands of hair out of your face as you watched him nod, grabbing out a pair of your own sweatpants, his t-shirt, and your favourite hoodie of his.

It was funny at first when you discovered he actually owned hoodies.

He was by your side moments later, gently pulling the big coat off your shoulders, before undressing you from the business attire you had been wearing all day, helping you into the clothes he had brought out for you.

Only minutes later your head was resting against his chest — the tears had officially stopped, his arms wrapped around you as your legs intertwined with his.

“Take the day off tomorrow” He whispered softly into your hair. You could feel the alcohol slowly processing away, not enough to be sober but enough to be a little more there.

You would’ve argued any other time, but you just nodded against his chest, before leaning away slightly, reaching over to grab your phone from where Spencer had plugged it in on your beside table.

He chuckled, grabbing your arm, “Tomorrow baby, not now.” He said softly.

You again didn’t argue, returning to your position before, hand scrunching into the fabric of Spencer’s pyjama top gently. “Thank you for coming to get me” You muttered tiredly as your eyes closed, breathing in his scent that only soothed every muscle in your body.

“I’ll always come get you.”

[hardlyinteresting]

Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k  Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes. 

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches. 

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself. 

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser. 

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out. 

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate. 

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing. 

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you. 

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”. 

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse. 

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?” 

“I told you. She’s a colleague”. 

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on. 

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are. 

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people. 

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing. 

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want.  Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life. 

“Please, Hotc--”. 

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it. 

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage? 

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

 At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.  

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave. 

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. 

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”. 

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now. 

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes. 

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that. 

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself. 

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off. 

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you. 

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals. 

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees--  healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same. 

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist. 

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss. 

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be. 

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear. 

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words. 

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say. 

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron. 

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet. 

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic. 

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay. 

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you. 

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with. 

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.  

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him. 

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough. 

[confiaenanaa]

Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.

needed - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?

warnings: cursing, drinking

A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!

-Fuck you! 

-Oh, piss off!

Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 

…

He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.

He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 

That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 

-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 

-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 

-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!

- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!

- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!

-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!

-Fuck you!

-Oh, piss off!

-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 

-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 

-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.

-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!

Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.

But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.

Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 

Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 

She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 

She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 

When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 

She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.

She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 

The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 

She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.

“hello?”

“babyyy??”

“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”

She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 

…

The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 

As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 

Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 

-Wait, look, I gotcha something.

He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.

-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.

Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 

A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 

He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.

Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.

[charmedreincarnation]

I shifted using the void state!

I'm getting straight to the point because I know people don't like long success stories, but I used these two posts to finally shift to my desired reality and manifest my dream life.

Rotten’s Practical Guide to Shifting Realities

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zgrhCYyct7xV4j7d7qYFcoO8bAMx5Jqdb3NGoO81Oqs/edit

Reddit Post: The Power of the Void State

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/XMIo5TPYlM

Anyways, when I learned about the void state on Reddit, I was instantly captivated. I mean, who wouldn't be? The idea of not only using it for shifting but also manifesting my dream life for myself and my family felt like a dream come true. That's when I came across the second post I shared about the void state, and eventually, the first document I shared. They were incredibly informative and completely changed my perspective on shifting and the law of the universe.

I went on to stalk many of the recommended success stories on Reddit, exploring posts and comment sections that mentioned you. You seemed to be a common denominator in their journeys, helping them shift or guiding them with your posts. It made me happy to see your positive influence, even though your posts were from years ago and it seemed like you no longer have an account. Unfortunately, many other creators' posts were either inactive or banned due to Reddit's strict rules which is really annoying.

However, someone made a post about you, and one of your friends ended up commenting with your Tumblr account. So, I gathered a lot of valuable information from your account and a few others (like Fleur, Pink, Rem, Sexy Dream Girl, etc.) on Tumblr.

I must say, the Tumblr shifting and void community is miles ahead of Reddit and Amino. I was shocked that I hadn't come across this community before. Reddit is just starting to talk about the Law of assumption and the void, whereas you guys have been immersed in it for years. I even encountered some misconceptions on Reddit, where people still think the void can only be used for shifting and not for waking up in a whole new life. 🙄

Regardless, finding this app was the motivation I needed, and I discovered so much valuable information. I ended up using your theta wave method, combined with the first Reddit post I sent, to enter the void and shift to my dr. It's truly mind-blowing how easy it all was.

I can vouch for this process. All you need are the two Reddit posts I shared, as the guide is highly regarded within the shifting community, along with a few trustworthy Tumblr bloggers. I've been part of the shifting community since 2017, so I've seen it all, and I managed to shift within just two and a half weeks of finding these resources. Even though I was struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, I realized it doesn't have to hinder your journey.

I wanted to share my experience here, and I might make a post on Reddit too. However, they have become stricter with success stories due to anti-troll measures, and it takes weeks to even months for anything to be processed. So, I wanted to share my journey here first.

I also recommend this: https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/daFCQdyHim because it helped me understand what shifting really is. Manifesting too!

Lastly I'm 26 years old, and I've noticed that Reddit tends to have a more adult audience compared to Tumblr. At first, it felt nice to be surrounded by fellow adults discussing shifting. On the other hand, seeing Tumblr mostly filled with teens and younger adults made me wonder if it's easier for them, especially without the weight of responsibilities that often come with age.

But let me tell you, age is not a factor that determines our success in shifting. Whether you're 13 or 55, it doesn't matter. This is something we can all engage in, no matter our age.

Sure, there might be some challenges that come with getting older. As we accumulate more life experiences, doubts tend to creep in, and we become more logical. But guess what? Those doubts and logical thinking don't define our ability to shift realities. They are simply hurdles for us to overcome.

Hi love! I've spent some time going through all the resources you shared, and they've been incredibly helpful! Actually i have seen that guide in so many places, and it's truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing these amazing tools with us!

And yes, I wholeheartedly agree with what you said. age and doubt really do have no place in our journey they really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

I used to engage with @theastralplaneandbeyond5487 on Amino and Reddit too. He also has an informative YouTube channel and is in his 50s, I believe. His experiences and insights are rlly helpful and further show that age is just a number in this journey.

His journey showed me that we can do whatever we we want , regardless of our age. It's a beautiful reminder that we're all capable of creating and experiencing whatever we want 🩵

Also omg my Reddit era in 2021 was so fun. I’m glad it’s still helping people though my views have definitely evolved :D!

[xrenjunniesx]

May we continue to love forever

bf!haechan

fluff, mentions of murder jokes

word count : 1,341

In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.

It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.

His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.

It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.

When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.

You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.

You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.

“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.

“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.

“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.

“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.

“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.

You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there

“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”

“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”

You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.

“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”

“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.

“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”

“is it my grave-“

“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.

The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.

“No way… you found this place.”

“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”

Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.

As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.

The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.

He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.

He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.

“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”

You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.

The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.

“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.

“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.

You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”

Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”

You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”

He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”

You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”

“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.

“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.

“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”

You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.

“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”

you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.

As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,

“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”

You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”

[mistydeyes]

hey, can i please request headcanons of 141 boys with reader that is a youtuber?

omg yes ofc! i used to (and still am) a HUGE YOUTUBE WATCHER so this was so fun to do :) thank you again for requesting!

vidcon but the uk version

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summary: You're not any regular civilian, you're a Youtuber ;) In all seriousness, here's some headcanons of how the boys interact with your channel and support you!

pairing: 141 x YouTuber!Reader

warnings: swearing

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price - beauty and skincare

you were already big on YouTube when you met John

he can't go into a Sephora without someone mentioning your latest video or TikTok

someone would assume you were an employee based on how you were able to help the fan pick out the best skincare and makeup

he was shocked at the sheer number of brand deals you participate in

he also is in awe at the corner you had dedicated to your ring light and makeup desk with a nice camera set-up

when you eventually move in together, he's just used to the number of parcels you get daily

he will insist on at least giving you some money when you do a beauty haul (even though you tell him you don't need it)

one time he tried to surprise you by picking out some things that you mentioned

now your most popular video is “trying out makeup that my boyfriend picked out”

his only annoyance is when you accidentally stain one of the face towels

eventually just buys a new set meant specifically for you when you wash off a look

you're planning on having a new video where you do skincare on him and finally get at some of his blackheads

soap - gaming

prior to meeting Johnny, you already had a sizable channel

you primarily did long lets plays and the occasional stream

your setup is absolutely gorgeous -i'm talking led lights, two monitors that have the best processing power, pro gaming chair, and posters

it took awhile to curate but it's your baby and you make sure he knows that

loves watching you game and will occasionally keep you company for those long streams

it reminds him of when his younger siblings would watch him game on their early Playstation and X-Box consoles

your subscribers love when he's there though because he has the best reactions

your most popular video? "my boyfriend plays five nights at freddy's ⚠️headphone warning⚠️"

despite having amazing technical skills on the field, his multitasking sucked and he would always forget to check on foxy or overuse the battery

you had a great time editing the video after and emphasizing the jumpscares

he won't subject you to rewatching your videos with him but he likes watching other channels or collars you've done

"This guy is absolute shite" "I know, that's why I don't play multiplayer with him anymore"

he'll be so excited if you ever get invited to a big event like Pax, E3, or Gamescom

you basically have to keep him on track as he loves stopping in artist's alley and looking at all the trinkets and merch people are selling

make sure to bring a huge suitcase because your game room is getting a few new additions

gaz - internet documentaries

think of Internet Historian or Down the Rabbit Hole vibe

your channel is dedicated to internet phenomena like Florida Man or the movement to Storm Area 51

you'd tell the facts of the trend and then add a few funny commentary pieces

usually your videos are 45 min to an 1 hr long so a lot of work goes into it

it's more of a hobby than anything but Kyle always thinks the amount of research you do for it is insane

"Babe I think you need a new laptop" "Why?" "I always know you're about to make a new docu-series because it sounds like a fucking airplane takin off"

once your laptop doesn't sound like its going to blow up, he'll be sure to keep you company as you write down your script

"Did you know that there was a convention for X or X happened?" is how most of your conversations go

he'll always smile and let you give him a spark notes version of what happened

will be the one telling you too sleep and that you can continue editing tomorrow

loves when companies send you things for ad reads

hoards all of the items from Dollar Shave Club and Raycon (his absolute favorite sponsor of yours)

he'll occasionally watch your videos while he's cooking or at the gym

always loves learning something new even if its about a failed furry convention

"I liked your latest video" is such a huge compliment from him because he knows how much effort you put into it

he'll occasionally feed you ideas that he sees while he's scrolling through social media

"You should do something on Hat Man" "WHO??" "Yk the guy you see when you take too much Benadryl, apparently Soap sees him too"

ghost - asmr

tbh doesn’t think much about your channel

you’ll just occasionally leave the room to record or crack some slime in front of a camera

however when your channel is mentioned in conversation, he considers revisiting

“have you heard about this asmr thing?” Gaz asked the group and Soap immediately interjected

“OH YEAH some of them are amazing to watch alone,” he said with a wink

“Like this account-“ Soap wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Ghost snatched the phone out of his hand

“Sorry just couldn’t see it” he apologized and he tried to suppress his disgust that someone else was listening to you at night like that

after that, he takes another look and watches a few of your more popular videos

ofc its your series roleplaying as a nurse or doctor taking care of someone

as well as one where you act like a sleepy girlfriend waking up next to their significant other

he will never say that he watches your videos but you do notice the uptick in views and likes (it's a cute little secret of his)

one time you attempted to ask all these questions about being in the military to help you write dialogue for your latest combat medic series

"People seriously want stuff like that?" "You'll be surprised, not tell me what you usually have in your pack"

he will cringe when you pull your asmr voice on him and whisper in your ear

"Cut that shit out."

[sugawhaaa]

SEONGHWA X READER

{Chapter 4}

Breathless

Warnings:: sexually/mentally abusive fiance! Mentions of blood, knives and swords!

Genre:: Pirate Au!!

Pairing::pirate!Seonghwa x princess!reader

A/N:: I'm pumping out these chapters so fast bro 💪 I'm loving this series but we're nearing the end 🥺 I think there will be about 6 chapters in total at this rate 😭

Reminder‼️this isn't 100% historically accurate and should be taken with a grain of salt. This story is also set in the late 1800s to early 1900s specifically in Europe but if you want you can imagine it wherever else you'd like, it is a fictional story after all 💗 this story also takes some inspiration from Pirates of the Caribbean, specifically the first movie.

Taglist:: @hi-kariii @deltamoon666 @hxpelessxcean @luvleejuyo

Chapter 3::

You little," you grit your teeth and his smile turns into a smirk again. His eyes avert to the entrance of the castle and he frowns.

"This won't be the last time," he kisses you on your lips quickly before jumping off the balcony. You stare off into the distance trying to process what just happened. You quickly look down at the ground but he's already gone.

"Sister?" You hear your older sister call out to you. You turn and look at her slightly surprised. "Are you alright, you're leaning over quite far," she says in a light tone.

"Oh yes, there was just a chipmunk," you smile with a nod and your sister chuckles.

"You're still so peculiar," your sister comes up beside you, leaning against the rail. "Your fiance is nice," she says as she looks at the horizon, the sun setting.

"Yes, he's…great," you sigh and look at the sunset as well.

"You don't like him do you?" She chuckles and looks back at you, her blonde hair swaying in the wind.

"I don't. But I need to marry him," you look determined at her before smiling. "It's for the better of both our countries," you look at the sunset again. Your sister stands up straight again. She places her hand on your shoulder.

"You are a good woman," she smiles before walking away, leaving you and the sunset alone.

[That night, Seonghwa POV]

Seonghwa came back to his ship, clenching his sword in his fist. Burnt red coloring on it. The crew greets him kindly and he greets them back. One of the younger members of the crew walks beside him.

"You've got lipstick on your lips," he chuckles and Seonghwa stops dead in his tracks. He brings his ungloved hand to his lips, running his middle finger along his lips. He looks down at his fingertip to see a soft pink tint on it. Seonghwa sighs and the crew mate smirks at him with a knowing look. "Looks like Captain Seonghwa got a little distracted on his mission," he laughs and Seonghwa throws his sword at the man, hitting the wooden wall just beside his head. The sword sticks out, gently swaying from the force of his throw.

Seonghwa scowls at the man. "Clean it," he orders before walking off, his cape blowing in the wind.

[Time skip, festival day. Your POV]

The day had finally arrived. The festival of glamorgan. The celebration of the day your kingdom was born. The streets were full of people and beautiful blue and yellow decorations. Today you were finally free from your guards because with so many people around your loyal citizens would help if there somehow was a dire situation. Not to mention herrington was with you a lot of the day but you didn't let his presence ruin your day.

In the afternoon after you finished your noon meal you went on a stroll around the outskirts of the kingdom, without telling anyone. You needed some time for yourself. The hot sun beamed down on you as you fanned yourself, walking down by the shore. You gazed off into the waters before noticing something strange. A certain patch of water wasn't moving. You stopped in your tracks and went to examine it. There was a large oval shape in the water that just didn't move. You looked closer at it when you heard someone walking up behind you. You turn to see none other than Seonghwa.

"I told you I'd see you again," he smiled and walked over to you. "I see you've found my ship," he says as he puts his hand on the hilt of his sword.

You look at him confused. "Your ship?" You look around. "I don't see one," you look at him with a frown, tilting your head.

"And here I thought you were smart," he sighs and shakes his head. He takes your hand in his and walks up to the edge of the grass. He then steps over the edge of the hill.

"Wait! What are you-!" You cling to his arm as he steps out into the air. There's a loud whoosh sound and you're standing on a ship. You fan yourself as you look around confused. You hold onto Seonghwa's arm as you look around the deck of the ship.

"This is my ship," he smiles. "We've been hanging out around here for a while. That's why I keep running into you," he explains as he leads you to the center of the deck. "A lot of my crew are not on the ship right now because of the festival but of course, a few are," he smiles and stops to introduce you to one of the young men. He's carrying a barrel on his shoulder with ease as he looks at the two of you. "This here is a good friend of mine, Mingi," he gestures to the man. Mingi takes off his hat and tips it towards you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you princess," he extends his hand out for you to shake and you hesitantly shake his hand.

"Mingi, this is princess Y/N," Seonghwa nods to Mingi.

"Yeah it's about time you bring her on," he laughs and Seonghwa frowns. You can't help but chuckle at their attitudes toward each other.

"Well, we'll let you carry on with…wait what are you doing I didn't tell you to move those?" Seonghwa cocks his head as he realizes where Mingi is moving the barrels.

"The captain did," Mingi shrugs and continues on. Seonghwa frowns and grits his teeth.

"I'm gonna kill him," he mumbles as he lets go of your arm. Storming off.

"Wait, I thought you were the captain?" You speed up to Seonghwa.

"I am, I'm the crew captain, Hoongjoong is the captain captain," Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

"That makes no sense," you sigh and shake your head.

"It would if you were smarter," Seonghwa replies instantly and you gasp.

"How dare you speak to the princess of glamorgan in such a tone!" You storm up to Seonghwa as he bursts into the captain's quarters.

"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa stomps up to a man sitting in the captain's chair, his feet on the desk in front of him.

"Captain," the man corrects Seonghwa.

"Stop commanding my crew to do things that I don't approve of!" Seonghwa puts his hands on his hips as you stand in the corner.

"Well they're bored of doing nothing when you're out frolicking in the fields with your little girlfriend," hoongJoong says as he spins a broken compass.

"We won't be waiting around for much longer okay? I've got almost everything," Seonghwa says as he leans in closer to Hongjoong. "And get your damn feet off my desk!" Seonghwa pushes his feet off the desk and HoongJoong loses his balance. His eyes finally fall upon you.

"Oh you finally brought your girlfriend on deck!" He stands up and walks over to you, looking you up and down. You chuckle awkwardly and Seonghwa sighs.

"Yes, I thought it was about time she met everyone," Seonghwa walks over to the two of you. Hoongjoong shakes your hand and you smile.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go introduce her to everyone!" Hoongjoong grabs your hand and pulls you out to the main deck. He drags you around the ship introducing you to everyone. "Mingi is a sailsman, San is the main combat man, junho and Yunho are good at stealing and mapping, Yeosang covers the lookout as well as cooking sometimes and Wooyoung cooks and helps with a lot of combat," Hoongjoong explains all the details of their ship. Under each of those men, there is a smaller crew that follows their commands.

"And Seonghwa looks after the crew?" You turn to Hoongjoong.

"Yep," he nods before pulling you closer. "But be careful, Seonghwa is obsessed with his treasure and will stop at nothing to obtain what he wants," he whispers before smiling again.

"Well, this was fun and all but I should really get back soon," you say as you fan yourself harder, the breeze from the ocean not enough to cool you off. Hoongjoong agrees and lets you go back with Seonghwa. Seonghwa holds your arm as he leads you back to the village, your fan never stops moving.

"Are you alright Y/N?" He turns to you with genuine concern. You frown and hold your chest.

"I'm alright," you sigh and smile up at him. He looks at you unsure. As you continue walking back things start to get hazy. You see stars and your eyes start falling closed. Every time you breathe out you feel like your lungs won't reopen. "Seonghwa," you wheezed out and hit his shoulder rapidly. He turns to look at you and sees you gasping for air. You suddenly collapse and he catches you in his arms.

Panic washes over him but he quickly steadies himself. He pulls out a pocket knife and starts cutting your dress. In the distance he sees a group of soldiers rushing over to the two of you but Seonghwa doesn't care currently. He cuts your dress down to your corset and quickly rips it off of your body. You gasp for air and grab his jacket, pulling your body up.

Your hands shake as you cling to him as you inhale and exhale quickly.

"It's okay, you're okay," he says as he pets your hair as he holds you. "You're okay," he repeats before the soldiers separate the two of you quickly. Herrington instantly came to your side, noticing your exposed body and the pirate he scowled at Seonghwa. Seonghwa sighed and scowled back

"Soldiers, take him," he nods his head to the soldiers and you jump in to interfere.

"He just saved my life!" You yell at your Fiancé. "You wanted me to wear this stupid dress and I almost died because of it!" You say as you push Herrington away. He frowns at you before looking over at Seonghwa, his hands up. "Let him go," you scowl at your Fiancé. Herrington sighs and nods to his soldiers. The soldiers escort you back to the castle where your Fiance locks you in your room.

You hear your parents and Herrington talk outside your room, discussing how they can't keep you safe anymore. Not with Seonghwa around, yet if it wasn't for Seonghwa you wouldn't be breathing right now. The maid comes into your room offering you dinner and you accept her offer. You sit at your desk and eat, your maid accompanying you.

"I heard about your encounter today," the woman says as she stands beside you.

"Yes, it was scary," you hummed before eating.

"I bet. I heard prince Herrington saved you," the maid said as she swayed on her feet.

"What?" You turn to look at her. "No, no, Seonghwa saved me," you explain with a frown.

"Oh, my apologies," the maid bows.

"Who told you Herrington saved me?" You asked before eating some more of your dinner.

"It's been going around the village, but Herrington told me personally," she informed you. You frown and turn back to your dinner. You continued to eat in silence, thinking about Seonghwa.

The rest of the evening went normally, aside from the fact that your fiance hadn't spoken to you. He was very mad that you were with Seonghwa and so exposed to him. You thought it was a little odd that he was so mad but you decided to pay no mind.

You slept peacefully in your bed before slowly waking up from a pestering sound. You rubbed your eyes and tried to locate the source of the noise. You realized that it was knocking on the door of your balcony. You slowly arose and opened the door, the midnight air flowing into your room. As your eyes adjusted you realized Seonghwa stood before you, a soft smile on his lips.

"You don't seem very awake," he chuckles as he allows himself into your room. You sigh and close the door before sitting back down on your bed.

"That would be because you just woke me up," you watch him walk around your room. He sits next to you on the bed with a smile.

"My apologies," Seonghwa patted your head and you looked at him confused.

"You're being oddly kind," you tilt your head. "You want something from me don't you?" You scoff and he laughs.

"I want to get to know you," he says as he relaxes his body on the bed. "You should trust me by now. I saved your life, showed you where I live and basically my family," he explains. "You know what I like and you know who I am," he looks over at you and you blush. "Yet I hardly know anything about you," he says with desperate eyes but behind them, something more is lingering. Sincerity, interest, trust, eagerness, love.

[spacedustmantis]

here we go. originally we said we would not talk about this. we would not draw attention to it. we would wait for it to blow over. but a lot of misinformation has spread and a lot of us feel like it's getting to a critical point.

us being the members of the recently highly controversial anti-censorship jrwi discord server.

i would have reblogged this from @rantarang's most recent reblog but sadly further up the rb chain are screenshots with doxxed information about a lot of my friends and i, so i will not be reblogging that post. do not go looking for it. you can base your opinion off of what information has been given without rewarding a severe invasion and violation of privacy, regardless of what you think of us.

the events that have transpired are as following: a post is made criticizing and warning about the bitb zine (which has since been canceled). as a reaction to this a tumblr user decides to investigate into the people behind it, despite the original poster censoring the names and urls of the mods, and finds this server. they infiltrate it, lying to the mod to gain access, and then proceed to screenshot and post the entire members list (meaning display names and pfps of every single person who might or might not be active in this server) plus some further personal information about certain people and private conversations.

they do not care to find out if any of these people are minors before they expose parts of our private contact information and call us degenerates and accuse us of grooming, and then they ask the people to please tell them if anyone is a minor so they can be "protected".

this, btw, is illegal. spreading personal information and private conversations with the intent to harm (even if it's "just" defamation), especially on the internet, is very much illegal. what matters more of course is that it is incredibly dangerous, opening up a lot of people - whether you see them as gross perverts or not - to brutal harassment and at the very least, as was intended by the infiltrator, extreme alienation. i mention that it's illegal for reasons that will become apparent.

now. this could have been it. pretty catastrophic and dangerous but an isolated incident. but people do what they do best. they talk and converse and assume and things get lost in translation.

i decided to write this and talked about it with some people in this server after i read up on the conversation underneath that post by rantarang and @tigers1o1.

one of the first things to set straight is that the zine is not the same thing as the server and besides some of the same people being involved and existing in the same fandom actually has no connection to it whatsoever.

i do not know a lot about the zine. i will not be the one to talk about that.

next thing, none of our mods are underage. this was a misunderstanding due to the zine having an underage mod, who afaik explicitly doesn't engage with any nsfw content.

and now for the big one. we have been accused of grooming and harassing minors. we have been called criminals. we have been accused of illegal actions. this is all not true. i understand where that assumption can come from, but assumptions are not truth.

let me talk a bit about my experience on this server.

i joined mostly because it was a server one of my friends advertised. i was aware it was going to include topics that i wasn't entirely comfortable with so i was hesitant to join, but i did.

what i found was one of the most impressive discord servers i'd ever seen in regards to moderation. coming in at first you do not see anything beyond the rules section and some other administrative channels. you are required to read the rules and to react to the post so you can even just get to see the chatting channel.

furthermore, once you go through the vetting process (which is as noninvasive as possible since internet safety is a thing we are very conscious of), you can only view channels that are free of any potentially triggering content (nsfw, gore, underage, drugs and more) until you look through the roles available and choose which ones you would like to see. you have to actively click a labeled button and then find and enter the channel you chose to be able to actually see, before you get to any potentially dark and/or triggering content.

not only that, but any and all talk about ships, even the purely romantic/nonsexual kind, is relegated to their own personal threads, which require you to agree to see topics that might be relevant (for example, violence or gore and death for emizel/gabriel) and allow you to simply not have to see or engage with any ships that you might find bad, annoying, triggering, or whatever else.

so NO, we do not invite children into the server where they are immediately blasted with pedophilia or SA against their will.

i personally chose to be able to access some of these darker channels mostly out of curiosity. i don't really take part in them, i don't chat in them and i don't read every single message. but i still get a good feeling what these conversations are mostly about. fictional characters experiencing bad shit, or maybe fictional characters doing bad shit. or maybe, god forbid, someone engaging with a kink of their's in what is clearly labeled as a kink space.

i have been in this server from quite early on. i have seen a lot of stuff that has happened there. not once have i witnessed inappropriate behavior between two people. not once have i picked up on any behavior indicative of manipulation or grooming or SA.

the people in this server are mostly just... friends. people hanging out in a space that allows them to talk about topics that might upset some in a way that spares those who would be upset from seeing it. a space that allows you to see and read exactly what you want and nothing more. a space that is really really fucking well moderated. i am not kidding we are strict about putting warnings on stuff, about posting in the correct channels.

and finally the minor issue. that is the issue of minors. i mentioned earlier that our vetting system is intentionally noninvasive. we do not ask for any personal identification. we do not ask for any proof that you are well meaning (how would that even work?), and most importantly we do not ask for people's ages.

this is for two reasons.

a) DO NOT GIVE STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET THAT KIND OF INFORMATION JESUS CHRIST!! DO NOT ASK PEOPLE THAT KIND OF INFORMATION! STOP NORMALIZING MINORS OPENLY ADVERTISING THEMSELVES AS MINORS, THAT IS LITERALLY INTERNET SAFETY 101 OH MY GOD!!!

and with that out of the way, b) we could never enforce this anyways. you want us to ask for driver's licenses? fucking passports? people lie. children lie, teens lie, we know this. ask literally anyone who's ever tried to keep an online space free from people under any age. instagram is 13+, and do you know how many people i know who lied about their age to get access to that? too fucking many to count.

telling us to keep our space free of minors is a wasted effort. it's annoying but it's true.

all we can do is be explicit about what kind of content people could face and trust them to act accordingly to their own comfort levels.

and, to be quite honest, while i personally (and many other members) have expressed discomfort with the idea of sharing certain, more sexual parts of this server with minors, the truth is that it's not actually the end of the world if one stumbles across those parts, whether on purpose, by accident, or by stupid mistake. it might be uncomfortable and it might cause issues, but that's life.

life sometimes is uncomfortable, and there might sometimes be issues. again, to try and erase all those potential issues or discomforts from life is pointless. it will never work that way no matter how bad we want it.

ultimately i strongly believe that if a minor were to find themself in conversations about darker or more taboo topics, the people that frequent this server would never even think to bring them harm. i cannot reiterate enough that each and every single one of us is strongly against any kind of sexual violence outside of the fictional realm; in real life.

and that's where we are. in real life. which if you'll remember is actually different from playing pretend. no actual harm has been done to anyone. every single person who was confronted with these topics has volunteered for it. every single person who has read what was said in these channels gave their explicit consent.

that is, until our member list was leaked and the content we worked hard to keep safely separated and tagged was posted against our will on the internet and forced upon an absurd amount of strangers who never agreed to get involved.

we never once put anyone in harm's way, unlike you did.

and since it seems so important to you, we never once did anything illegal. unlike you did.

-----

i apologize that this got so long, but there was a lot to set straight. if you got to the end, thank you for indulging me.

again, do not seek out the person who leaked our info, and do not seek out the list itself. we sadly cannot unleak it but it would mean a lot if you didn't pass it around any more than people already have, even if you don't agree with me.

i would also like to say that while i did converse with some of the other members and am fairly confident that most of them would agree with me, all of this is my own opinion, do not make the mistake of extrapolating it to the server at large.

and if you saw the initial callout post and agreed with it, i don't blame you. the internet is a scary place and seeing these events framed in such a way is certainly frightening. but keep in mind that as long as you don't see hard proof, please do not "call out" anybody. and for god's sake do not post private information on tumblr! there could be real harm done here and i don't think anyone actually wants that.

thank you again for reading this, i hope it can settle some things.

love, monty

[peachy-panic]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time (pt. 2)

I didn't intend to make this 3 parts, but shit happens. The boys are going through it. (Sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy).

< PREVIOUS

WARNINGS: BBU, conditioning, major panic attack, references to past noncon, brief mentions of childhood in foster care

No one moves for a full three seconds. 

It’s Julian, of all people, who breaks first. He takes a hesitant step forward, palms raised, and what the fuck does he think he’s doing.

Over Sebastian’s dead fucking body will he come any closer to Jaime, who, at the barest hint of movement flinches back, arms coming up to protect his head. A fiery rage blows through Sebastian. He moves in between them, blocking his line of sight.

“Step. Back.” The warning comes out in a voice he doesn’t recognize as his own.

Julian blinks, apparently processing a shock of his own, but stumbles back quickly enough that his shoulder hits the door. Only when he’s sure that Julian will stay put does Sebastian turn back to Jaime. 

The shaking is visible from across the room. Sebastian knows this look. He’s seen it for himself more times than he’d like to remember. Terror. This is what it looks like when Jaime is terrified. 

Suddenly they are free-falling back through time, blowing apart every inch of confidence and safety and trust Jaime has fought tooth and nail for over the course of a few months. Sebastian takes a careful step toward him. Under his breath, Jaime is whispering something on a loop, so quiet that all Sebastian can make out is a repetition of consonants. As he gets closer, the words click into place.

“Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.”

Sebastian can’t breathe. “Jaime,” he chokes out.

Jaime breaks his stillness to shake his head, quick and frantic, keeping his eyes on the floor. “No,” he says, “No, no, my… My name isn’t… My l-legal name is among the r-rights—”

“No,” Sebastian and Ezra say at the same time, hard enough to make Jaime flinch. “Sorry,” Sebastian whispers, but he doesn’t think it comes out audible. 

Ezra drops to one knee beside, a force of preternatural calm in the midst of panic, and Sebastian follows suit, keeping his body positioned between Jaime and Julian. Behind them, he can hear Aria whispering something low and calm, but Sebastian’s sole focus is on the boy in front of him. 

“No,” Ezra repeats, softer. “Your name is Jaime. I know you must be confused, but I promise, you are not in danger.” 

Rigid as he is, Jaime somehow stiffens even further at the sound of his voice. His head snaps up, eyes locked on Ezra’s with a sudden, razor-sharp focus. 

“You have to go,” he whispers, reaching up—seemingly without thought—to grab Ezra’s shirt. There is a panic that borders on mania in his voice, in the widened whites of his eyes. “Ezra, you… You have to run, you have to—”

“I am not going anywhere,” Ezra cuts him off. He softens the firmness in his voice by reaching up to cover the hand on his chest. “This is my home. He will not hurt me, just as he will not hurt you.” He turns his shoulder just enough to gesture behind him. “This is not the Handler Hernandez you know. He is my friend.”

Confusion and terror swim in Jaime’s eyes. “Your…?” He turns to Sebastian, brimming with tears. “Your friend?” His voice is so small. Sebastian understands that he is asking them both, now. 

He swallows. “Yes.”

Something in Jaime visibly crumbles. The tears he has been holding at bay finally tip over, streaking his cheeks. “Please. What did I do?”

Sick understanding settles in. The sort of betrayal Jaime must think is happening right now. 

“You didn’t do anything,” Sebastian tells him. His own trembling hands come up to reassure him in some way, to offer the kind of soft touch that they have spent so long working up to, but he thinks better of it and lets them drop to his sides. “He is not here for you, Jaime. He will not touch you.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, kid,” Julian says from behind him, his voice soft to the point of unrecognizable. 

Sebastian shoots a glare over his shoulder when Jaime tenses at the sound of his voice, ducking his head once more.

“Jules, let’s step outside,” Aria says. 

After a moment of hesitation and a final muttered apology, the front door opens and shuts behind them. Sam, clicking off the stove burners, excuses himself as well. 

The silence left in their wake crushes down on the three of them for seconds that feel like minutes 

“He is gone,” Sebastian whispers. “Jaime, it’s just us here. You, me, and Ezra. You’re safe.”

Jaime doesn’t raise his head. His shoulders rise and fall with the telltale breathing of a freefall into panic.  He doesn’t seem to notice the steady stream of tears now joining the sweat gathered at the neckline of his shirt. “What is happening?” he whispers between pulls for air. 

“Something that never should have been sprung on you like this,” Sebastian says. “And I’m so sorry.”

“He’s…” His eyes betray him by trailing over Sebastian’s shoulder, toward the front door. “He’s not taking me?”

God. “No, Jaime. Never.”

The sound of his breathing, hitched and labored and increasing with alarming speed, is the only sound in the house. Then, abruptly, Jaime lunges to his feet. 

“I need… I’m—I’m sorry,” is all he gets out before bolting toward the hallway. They hear the bathroom door click shut, and the walls are not thick enough to mask the sound of his retching. 

 ****

It’s hard to breathe. Jaime goes through all his usual tricks—the ones WRU taught him, and the ones he has come to learn on his own—but his chest still aches with the need for a full breath that he just can’t manage to pull. 

No one has come for him yet. He doesn’t know how long it’s been. More than ten. Less than thirty? It’s a good thing, he thinks. Jaime doesn’t know if he’s ready to face them. He doesn’t know how to. 

The feeling that finds him on the bathroom floor, as he comes down from the heaving nausea, is one that Jaime hasn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. There are others, more familiar: confusion, pain, fear. But beneath that, perhaps because of it, something else simmers.

He keeps playing through the events on a loop, obsessing, trying to make sense of it, but his mind is a fractured mess of past and present, fragile trust and familiar betrayal. Because as Jaime knelt on Ezra’s living room floor, the world crashing around him, all he could think was: Is this how it ends? After months of fighting for every half-step of progress, of reaching for his last threads of fragile trust, of finding reasons to want to be a person again, had Sebastian given up on him?

No. He hasn’t. He wouldn’t. Sebastian isn’t like that.

But he doesn’t owe Jaime anything either.

Jaime has known betrayal before. Deeply, fundamentally. From foster parents he was meant to trust, teammates who were supposed to have his back, and men who pretended to be kind but who were all after the same thing. No one else had ever waited so long to show their true colors.

No. Sebastian is kind. He is not like the others.

And yet a crushing grief had fallen over him in that moment, because Jaime thought of Bella back at the house, and the last time he had scratched between her ears before they left, not knowing it would be the last time. He thought of the pineapple cheesecake in the refrigerator that they had made together three nights ago, half eaten, and wondered if Sebastian would throw it away or finish it when he’s gone. If he would feel bad about it. He thought of the clothes hanging in a closet that Jaime had finally come to think of as his own. 

He thought of a hug shared in the kitchen to the backdrop of birthday candlelight and wondered if Sebastian had already made his decision, then. 

He thought of all of this, and he wished he never had to know the taste of any of this happiness if it was only ever going to be taken from him. Because Handler Hernandez was here to take him back. And it was the end of Jaime’s world.

But then, it hadn’t been. Isn’t? He doesn’t…. Jaime doesn’t understand.

“You are not in danger,” Ezra told him. “You are safe,” Sebastian said. But Jaime doesn’t know what to believe. He found it hard to look at them in the moment (he couldn’t look at anyone, really, because a Handler entered the room, so it’s eyes down eyes down quiet quiet quiet). 

Friend, they called him. Handler Hernandez is their friend. 

He is Sebastian's friend.

And suddenly it’s hard to recall with any clarity the times he interacted with him inside the facility. Suddenly the months he spent there are a blur of faceless men in gray canvas and shock collar remotes and hands and hands and hands. Was Handler Hernandez one of them? Jaime can’t remember. Suddenly he can't tell any of them apart.

Friend. Friend. Friend.

Jaime doesn’t know how he is supposed to face them now—these people he has come to trust—with that word in their voices looping in his head. 

But a knock on the door tells him his time is up.

***

They give him time. We could all use a moment to process, Ezra wisely suggested, and so Sebastian took a seat at the bar while Ezra sank into the couch. Both of them are silent for several long minutes. Outside, Aria, Sam, and Julian must have moved far enough from the house that their voices don’t carry. 

“He was so afraid.” Sebastian is the first to speak, barely raising his voice from where his head is cradled in his hands. 

“I know,” Ezra says. 

They give him time, but Sebastian starts to worry that Jaime might be too scared to come out of his own volition, trapped in the bathroom by a self-imposed sense of shame or embarrassment or fear. 

“I’ll go,” Sebastian says, rising from his stool, but Ezra stands alongside him. 

“I’d like to speak to him as well,” he says. And although it doesn’t quite sound like he’s asking for permission, Sebastian nods anyway, silently grateful for the support. Ezra is always much better at hard conversations. 

Sebastian starts to worry when the first knock is met with silence. They don’t try again right away, but he can’t help but listen for sounds of distress. Sebastian would rather die than force open a door that Jaime has closed between them, but he will at least feel better if hears signs of life on the other side.

“Jaime?” Sebastian tips his forehead against the door, feeling the cool, wooden grain against his skin. “You don’t have to come out if you’re not ready to. I—we—Ezra and I, we just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’d like the chance to explain some things to you,” Ezra adds, keeping a step behind Sebastian. “Whenever you are ready. There is no rush.”

They wait. Sebastian glances back at Ezra, who meets him with a steady gaze that says patience. Finally, the handle clicks and the door pulls inward to reveal a disheveled Jaime. The bags under his eyes are nearly the color of bruises, and his hair tufts messily at the sides, as if he has been pulling at it. A sheen of sweat glistens at his forehead, and Sebastian clocks the way he holds onto the door frame to try and disguise his shaking. 

Guilt nearly bowls him over where he stands. 

Sebastian is glad for the flash of foresight he had to fill a glass with water before he and Ezra came to see him. He holds it out now, the condensation sweating over his fingers. 

“Here,” he says. Jaime lifts an arm robotically to take it from him, but he doesn’t take a sip, and he does not meet Sebastian’s eyes. 

“Is there anything I can get you, Jaime?” Ezra says when it’s clear Sebastian is lost for words. “Anything you need?”

Jaime stares in the direction of the glass in his hand and shakes his head. 

“Would you like to go somewhere and talk?” Ezra asks. “Sam has informed me that the others are gone now. We have the house to ourselves, just you, me, and Sebastian.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Sebastian starts to worry about the possibility that he is in genuine shock. But then he lifts his eyes to his and a lead anchor drops in the pit of his stomach.

There is a flatness like cold steel in Jaime’s eyes, a distance that lacks any familiarity or warmth; an expression Sebastian hasn’t seen since the first day he met Jaime, alone in the exam room at the clinic, when Sebastian was nothing more than another stranger in power over him. A direct threat to his safety. 

“Wherever you’d like to go,” Jaime says to him. The implicit, resounding “sir” doesn’t need to be vocalized at the end for it to echo through the walls of the house. 

****

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[karshown]

literally this is js abt how Choso would more than likely act if he was Y/N's bf/husband.

Choso's personality: calm, chill, doesn't like attention nor does he crave it, likes to be more in the shadows, clingy, honestly inlove with you & refuses to notice any other woman thats not you.

hes a homebody

fempoc reader x choso

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

Scenario #1:

Out of you two, you were the one that was outgoing, extroverted & loved being the center of attention around crowds of people. You were always the spotlight in any circumstance, whether you liked it or not (which you always did.)

Choso on the other hand simply hated it, he hated the thought of having all eyes on him or being around more than 2-3 people, or people in general. Anyone who wasn't you simply didn't have his attention, nor did he want to indulge in any conversation with them.

Anytime you two went to a party it was strictly him following you around like a lost puppy, & you jumping from place to place to at least have a small conversation with almost everyone at the large gatherings.

So today when you mentioned you two having to attend a party with more people than the last, he was truly sick to his stomach as much as he wanted to vomit he held it in.

His stomach churned as he wanted to curl into a ball, all he wanted to do was stay home with you, only you.

"Choso comeee onnn!! lets see the light in this one thing!" you encouraged as you tugged on his arm, he wouldnt budge, not even a little. He slouched into the couch beneath him, manspreading in a desperate attempt to make you change your mind without actually telling you to change your decision.

"So stubborn," you blurted out as he huffed and puffed, you two were truthfully opposites. Moving closer to him, relaxing into the couch you begged and pleaded, clasping your hands together while doing so.

"Just this one time, baby, pleaseee.." you whispered into his ear, sending a slight shiver down his spine as the small hairs on his neck rose. the word 'baby' did something to him, made him feel some type of way that he'd never felt before, made him want to beg to be called 'baby,'

Made him act out.

"I don't want to." Chosos rough voice echoed throughout the house, spooking you as you almost forgot the sound of his voice. Despite that, this only made you frustrated, now thinking of it though, you two go out almost all of the time? maybe you could stay in the house this one time.

"Okayyy fine!!" Choso was more than relieved at this point he took this moment as a miracle, in the blink of an eye he swiftly pulled you closer, you sat in between his spread legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling into your bare shoulder, although his actions took you by surprise, you were satisfied.

Maybe staying at home wasn't too bad.

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

Scenario #2

You had your phone turned off for a few hours, all you wanted was to finally get sleep, even if it was just for a little over 4 hours, you barely slept yesterday or the day before that. Your body was starting to feel like you were floating, as if you were naturally high.

Choso had been blowing up your phone for the past few hours, naturally you didn't know that, you felt at peace until..

BOOM.

My door swung open aggressively as it hit the wall behind it, my red, lowlided eyes shot openas I jerked awake immediately.

"fuck.." I whined to myself as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, barely processing that someone was towering over my figure from behind. The second I noticed the bigger shadow that ate mine up alive, I stiffened.

I barely could force any words out of my mouth, I couldn't even pry my lips apart. I soon felt a strong hand putting its entire weight on my shoulder, I swallowed the lump in my throat as my legs went limp. Was he going to kill me? were they even a he?

"I called you 79 times, facetimed you 20, and texted you at least 60, i even went as far as to check your social media account for any activity. I thought you were DEAD." Choso tightened his grip on my shoulder as despite the situation I was in, I felt relieved that I wasn't near death.

Until I took a moment of realization, that's not normal.

"m-my phone was turned off.." I stuttered as I tried to finally form an actual sentence, It was like I had to remember how to speak. Choso loosened his grip on my shoulder and eventually his hand dropped. At that point I hadn't realized that I had been holding my breath the entire time until I let out a loud sigh.

Soon Choso grasped onto the fact that he probably looked like a psychopath right now, especially after saying his actions outloud in the open which allowed him to register everything. Understanding how bad this situation might've seemed.

"O-oh well um, I realized that I might've acted out." He lowly said as he directed his attention elsewhere, to the floor beneath him clearly disappointed in himself. I shifted around as I turned to face him, the vulnerability was clear.

This side of Choso was a rare sight. I let out another sigh, this time a little louder than the last.

"Choso, I don't blame you, I completely understand, my love." I stood on my toes as I cupped the side of Chosos face in my hand, gently grazing my lips onto his. Completely unfazed by him acting like a literal crazy person.

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

Scenario #3

You had been crying silently for a good hour and a half now, not because something major happened to make you completely bawl your eyes out but because you felt like you needed this.

During your crying session your phone began to vibrate from under your curled up position, lazily searching for your phone as it rung back to back, assuming it wouldn't stop until you decided to answer you finally found it, the caller ID flashed the screen as it was Choso.

Your face instantly lit up, but he couldn't see you like this, in such a spot, such a negative position. Using the little bit of power that you had left, you wiped away your excess tears, leaving your face slightly damp but that was fine.

You repeatedly rubbed your puffy red eyes, trying to get rid of as much evidence of you crying as possible. Once you were fully sure that he wouldn't notice you answered the phone, plastering a gentle smile on your face.

"Hii my heart, hows the trip?" your voice slightly cracked, not enough for it to be too obvious but you naturally noticed it. You tilted the phone up to face you as you noticed how alarmed he seemed.

"Have you been crying? whats going on?!" he was extremely concerned, and more importantly confused, what had happened during the few hours that he had been gone?

"N-no, I mean no I haven't!" you quickly resorted to calming him down, he was usually a calm person until it came to you, until something involved you.

"I'm coming over, the plane is delayed regardless." before you could stop him and beg for him to go on the trip he had been waiting for, he hung up. With barely enough energy to rapidly type your phone slipped out of your loose grip, you fell back onto the bed as you stared at the ceiling.

A little over thirty minutes passed until you heard the sound of the front door unlocking and forcefully shutting. Your room was upstairs and one of the first rooms that you encountered once you started walking down the long hallway.

Before you knew it Choso came barging in, with chocolates in one hand and your favorite flowers in the other.

"Sorry I took too long, I just needed to make a few stops." he said it like it was a normal thing, a normal thing for him to leave the airport, he'd been boasting about the trip for 2 months straight, even when you dreaded hearing about it you still listened to every detail.

"Choso I said im fi-" just when you thought the chocolates and bouquet were the only thing he'd brought, he had also bought a small brown teddybear, you stared in awe as he brought it to the side of the bed you were on.

"You were clearly crying, i wasn't born yesterday." his tone was stern, as he wasn't taking no or anything of that nature for an answer.

You were his first priority before anything.

He began to open the box of chocolates as he gently grabbed you, wrapping one arm around your waist as he held you close, he shifted his figure on the bed just so you were comfortable, the back of your head rested against his solid chest.

"Open." he commanded as you opened your mouth slowly, he stuffed a small piece of chocolate into your mouth, you soon chewed on the little bit of white chocolate.

"What about your trip?" you asked with a hint of concern in your tone, about something he completely disregarded, completely forgot about all for your wellbeing.

"I mean, fuck it."

He said with a slight shrug, resuming to feeding you more of the delicious chocolate.

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

ugh i love choso // I own none of the artwork used, credits to the artists of any piece of art used.

[captain19cb97]

Fairytale (M/F/A) P1.5 :: l.mh

Synopsis: Minho doesn't pretend to know everything, but he's positive that he knows this much is true.

Pairing: Mafia!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre: Mafia AU. Fluff, some angst, smut! Established friendship to relationship. Secrets.

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ audience! Small SMUT moment, mention of violence, mentions of weapons- (not in this part but in others) please don't read if anything related to violence are triggers for you in any way, shape, or form. This little series will not be without some deaths, sadly, I mean, they are mafia after all... Cursing, crying. The usual pet names- baby, jagi.

(A/N:: Just a little filler part that I wanted to do. I felt like it would be nice to see some of Minho's inner thoughts about them. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, please let me know if I've left any warnings out)

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

It was a question that Minho seemed to keep asking himself whenever he had to cancel plans with you because something happened or he had a mission, but you never questioned him about why he needed to leave your place at 2 or 3 in the morning to go to work, or why he was canceling dinner plans only hours before he was supposed to pick you up.

Before he knew it, months had gone by, and you two were still together, and even then, you still never asked him about all the little work related mishaps that he had to deal with. Until one night, about 5 months into being together, he came over and was sporting a nasty looking bruise along his jaw, and his lip was busted up a little.

You frowned at him the minute he stepped foot into your apartment, seeing the look on his face. “What happened to you?” You asked, quickly getting up from the couch and rushing towards him.

He sighed as he set his things down by the door, “Some crazy asshole tried to get to Chan today. I threw myself in between them so Chan didn’t get hurt.”

Mostly true, but then again, you didn’t need every detail.

You were silent for a moment as you gently touched his cheek, nudging his chin to turn his head so you could really look at the damage.

“Someone tried to attack your boss?” You asked, the genuine surprise in your tone not lost on Minho as you led him into the bathroom to put some ointment on the cut on his lip and to tend to the bruises you could see beginning to form along his jaw. “Why?”

“He was some protester, I guess.” Minho shrugged, leaning against the bathroom counter as you moved around him. “He’s convinced that the company is responsible for that accident that happened at that product factory a couple weeks back. And since it’s Chan’s company, he blames Chan for it.”

You frowned deeply, holding Minho’s chin between your fingers to keep him still, “Even an idiot would know that Chan and the company aren’t responsible for what happened at that factory.” You shook your head, “Chan’s got power and money, yes, but he’s not corrupt or evil. And he’s definitely not going to blow up his own factory and kill innocent people in the process for any reason.”

Minho flinched as you wiped an alcohol covered cotton pad across the cut, “You’ve never met him and yet you sound so sure about him.” He commented, admittedly letting his own curiosity of what you’d think loosen his mouth a little. “How do you know he isn’t corrupt or evil?”

You simple peered up at him, gently applying the healing ointment to his lip now, and smiled softly, “Because I don’t think you’d have put yourself in front of him, if he was either of those things.” You answered easily. “You’re not corrupt, or evil, so I doubt you’d work for someone who is.”

“I could be.” He said softly, his eyes following your every move.

You stopped putting the first aid kit away, staring back up at Minho with soft eyes and an even softer smile, “You carry cat treats in your pockets when we go on walks because of the stray cats around this neighborhood. You help Mrs. Yang down the hall with her groceries when you see her struggling in the lobby. You wave at kids on the street whenever we go somewhere.” You grinned up at him, “You are not corrupt or evil, baby.”

“You sound awfully sure about that.” He countered, an almost undetectable edge to his words.

You looked him in the eyes. “Because I am sure about it,” You replied easily. “I have never once felt unsafe with you, or around you. You actually make me feel the safest I’ve felt since I was a child and given all the things I’ve seen in my life, that’s as close to a miracle as it gets, Min.”

You were both quiet for a moment before you gave him a gentle smile, “Is Chan okay?”

He let out a small sigh and nodded, “Completely, yeah. The guy never got near him.”

“Thanks to you,” you offered him a gentle smile. “Did Chan have the guy arrested or is he pressing charges on your behalf?”

Minho hesitated for a mere second in his reply, knowing that where that guy was currently locked up was the furthest thing from a lawful imprisonment that someone could get when it came to Chan or the guys, “Something like that, yeah.”

You nodded, “Good. Then whatever happens to him from here on out is entirely deserved for trying to attack your boss.” Then you let out a soft breath, “I’m just glad that you’re okay, though. You’re not in too much pain, are you?” You asked, gently cupping his slightly bruised cheek.

He shook his head, “I’ve dealt with much worse, jagi, don’t worry about me.”

You gave him a look, “Normally I don’t, but when you show up at my apartment at almost midnight with a face that’s bloody and bruised, it’s kind of hard not to, my love.”

You both fell into a quick silence once again. Minho was waiting for you to truly begin questioning him about what really happened, while you were just looking over his face, really taking in his very minor injuries. You had questions- of course you had questions- but you weren’t going to ask any of them because it wasn’t anything he wanted to talk about, clearly. If he did, he never would’ve stopped talking in the first place.

But you never asked anything else.

He just continued to stare down at you for another moment, before he grabbed the sides of your face, quickly blanketing your lips with his. He knew he caught you off guard, but you kissed him back eagerly, gripping the sides of his shirt in your hands as you relaxed into the kiss, letting him pull you as close as possible before he slowly wrapped his hands under your thighs, and lifted you from the floor.

You pulled away from his lips in surprise, eyes wide as he carried you out of the bathroom and straight to your bed. He peered up at you, standing with his knees just barely brushing the mattress, set on laying you down as you stared at each other.

You could see the words swirling behind his eyes, but he wasn’t actually saying anything, as you gently stroked his cheek with one hand, the other still threaded in the back of his hair. “What are you thinking about, my love?” You whispered, your nose brushing his.

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

Minho would admit to not knowing everything, but he was as sure about you as he was about breathing. And while he was still hesitant about many things because this was so entirely new to him, and his only example for something similar went down in flames, and is now the reason Chan implemented new foundations for new protocols within the crew for safety.

You were nothing like Haerin- Minho hadn’t trusted her from the moment Chan introduced her to the boys- but you? Minho was captivated by you the moment he laid eyes on you. And he felt as comfortable around you as he did around all the boys, he always has.

He took that to mean that his sixth sense was still working, he’d never been wrong about someone or something yet, not even after all the years he’s spent not trusting a single person other than the crew, or you.

There was something about you that he could never pinpoint, something that told him you were everything you seemed to be where he was concerned. You had your secrets, but he didn’t push about knowing them, anymore than you pushed him to know his.

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

Because you showed him every single day that you wanted the person he was at 2 in the morning while you both are wrapped up together in your bed, talking about how he’d reorder the letters of the alphabet if he had to.

And when you asked him how work was at the end of the day, it was the same questions, “How was your day, baby?” and, “I hope you had a good day today because my god, you look too handsome to not have had a good day.” And honestly, his favorite to answer to when he tells you it was a slow day, “Did your day go as slow as mine did today because you missed me so much?”

You never asked for more, and when he tells you that he doesn’t want to talk about his day, you smile at him, kiss his cheek and tell him that it’s okay, “We can just make dinner, then.” And the night goes on like he’s just some regular joe kinda boyfriend.

Minho doesn’t pretend to know everything, but he’s positive that he knows this much is true.

He let out a breath through his nose, pecking your lips once, twice, three times before he knelt on the bed. “How much I love you.” He mumbled gently laying you on your back as he trailed soft kissed from your lips, down your neck, across the bare skin of your chest, where you shirt didn’t cover, before he was planting his lips back on yours again.

His words rang in your ears, and you slowly pulled away from him, your eyes flicking between his. “You mean that?”

He cupped your cheek, a small smile on his face, “With everything I have.”

You blinked, “Say it again.” You whispered.

He pecked your lips once, mumbling against them, “I love you.”

You hummed softly into the next kiss, hands tangled in his hair, “I love you.” You said against his lips.

The weight of his body on top of yours was comforting and yet, also lighting a fire within you, the longer he kissed you- which by now felt like an eternity. His hands trailed along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he held and gripped different parts of you. And you could feel that you weren’t the only one being affected.

“Min,” You breathed softly, your eyes closed at the feeling of his lips pressed to your neck, before you gasped in pleasure when he sank his teeth into your skin.

“I want you.” He panted against your shoulder, “Fuck, I-I need you, baby.”

You felt yourself nodding before he’d even finished talking, gripping the back of his head tightly, pulling his lips back to yours, “Please, Minho. Please, touch me.” You begged, arching your back and pressing your chest into his.

He let out a strained noise, quickly kissing you again, and letting his hand wander a little lower than before, his fingertips dancing along the band of your sweatpants for only a moment before he slid his hand under the elastic.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him applying gentle pressure against your clit before he started teasing your slit, was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You’re soaked already, baby,” He smirked against your lips, teasingly rubbing his finger up and down your slit even slower, “What should I do about that, hmm?”

You let out a shaky breath, as he continued his ministrations, “Do anything, just don’t be gentle about it.”

He chuckled darkly, nudging his nose against your jaw, “Oh, baby, no. Of course not.” His breath fanned your neck before he pressed the lightest kiss to your skin, “I’m not going to make love to you, I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You whined, your brows pinching together as you shot him a pleading look, “Please.”

He cupped your jaw with his other hand, keeping your eyes on his as he smiled wickedly, “You’re still going to get my cock, baby, don’t worry. But this time- this time, I’m going to own you. Completely.” His eyes searched yours, “Got it?”

You whimpered, your mind already fuzzy from just him toying with you, but his words were sending your brain into a haze as you nodded as much as you could with him tightly holding your jaw.

“Use your words, Kitten. You never stop using that pretty mouth, so don’t stop now.”

Your eyes closed as he suddenly plunged two fingers into your core, easily hitting that spongy spot within you. “Fuck!” You moaned, digging your nails into his bicep. “Yes, baby. I’m yours, you know I’m always all yours.” You babbled, already feeling the not in your stomach tightening. “Use me, own me, do whatever you want to me.” You panted, throwing your head further into the mattress.

Minho’s eyes were glued to your face, watching you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you moaned out his name like a prayer. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, and just from the way your hips were twitching, he knew you were already getting close. So he stopped. Pulling his fingers from you and from inside your pants before bringing them to his lips.

You whined, your head shooting up as you looked at him with slightly tear filled eyes, “No, please! I was so close, baby. Please, don’t stop.”

Minho just let out a low chuckle at you, before he grabbed the waistband on your pants, “I’m just getting started, baby. You don’t want it to be over already, do you?”

Your chest heaved in frustration as you stayed on your back, staring up at him as he pulled your sweats off, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

If he thought you’d become some pliant little princess without some kind of backtalk, he was sadly mistaken, and didn’t know you as well as you thought he did.

You took a deep breath, trying to let your heart rate come down some more from your stolen orgasm, before you smirked up at him. “You can make me cum more than once, can’t you? You have before.”

He stopped unbuttoning his own pants and stared at you, slowly raising an eyebrow at your words. He nodded slowly a few times, his tongue poking out of his mouth, running it over his lips before he grinned at you, “Should’ve known you say some dumb shit.” He sighed affectionately, sliding his pants off finally, “I hope you know what you’ve just done, kitten. Because now I get to see how many times you can cum before you’re begging me to stop.”

You felt the excitement thrumming within you, mixing with the slight hesitancy as his words, watching him finish stripping down to nothing in front of you.

“Take it off.”

You met his eyes, “What?”

You watched his smirk widen when he realized that you’d been staring at the rest of him. “Your shirt.” He told you again, gesturing to it with just his eyes, “Take it off, or I’ll rip it off you myself.”

You swallowed thickly, reaching for the hem of it as you held his gaze, “Is that a promise?” You asked, your voice low as a playful smile tugged at your lips.

“Test me and find out.” He challenged you, a look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine as you slowly dropped your hands back to the bed beside you.

“Rip it off then.”

He kept your gaze as he knelt back on the bed, settling in between your open legs, and slowly trailing his hands up your legs until he’d reached the tops of your thighs. “You really want to test the boundaries tonight, don’t you?” He asked, continuing to drag his hands up your body.

The shirt bunched up slightly under his hands as his hands met your ribcage, fingers splayed wide along your sides before he took both hands, and grabbed at the collar of the shirt and pulled. The sound of tearing fabric sent a jolt of excitement through your body, and you gasped when he let both sides of the destroyed shirt fall to your sides, leaving your chest bare below him to stare at.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as his eyes roamed your body, before he caught your eyes again and smirked, “Let’s see how much you can take then, huh?”

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: not self-harm scars, but there are mentions of war/battle and violence, talks of being a prisoner of war

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

Legolas’ is here. 

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: You’ve been in many battles, fights and wars. And your s/o is seeing your scars for the first time. 

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

・It was late evening, both of you had had your supper, but even after you had finished eating, you were still sitting at the oak table

・Unwinding, you were both relaxing after a big day

・Aragorn was smoking pipeweed, and you were happy with your wine

・The snow was falling outside and you were both rugged up

・The conversation from the day had found its way into your chambers 

・Although there was no threat of war, it was still spoken about since Aragorn was the ruler 

・He was no stranger to seeing the horrors of war, it was drastically different when he saw the effects of it on your body

・He was devastated. 

・His gruff voice asked about what you had been through

・Aragorn filling both your cups in celebration of surviving 

・Though neither of you were drunk, the affect of the drink was starting to make you both loosen up

   “Do you regret them?” Aragorn said suddenly, breaking the impregnated silence

    “I don’t.” You said after a while, insinuating that you didn’t see your scars as a negative thing 

   It was quiet for a while. But not the type of silence that was awkward. Nothing with Aragorn felt awkward, nothing. 

    After taking another sip from your cup, you asked him the same, “Do you?” 

“For some...I do.” 

・He said it without looking in your eyes

・And he took a long puff of his pipe. After blowing the smoke from his mouth, he reached across the table and took ahold of your hand

   “I just want you to know. I love you.”

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

・She hadn’t been in many battles herself, so seeing your scars took her breath away

・Many long slices that had healed badly, some healed well

・All depending on how many healers had been there during the fights 

・Eowyn’s long hair travelled down her back in a braid that you had done earlier

・Making it so her hair didn’t fall in her face as she trained 

    “That looks like it hurt,” she said absentmindedly, reaching out to stroke the reddish coloured scar. 

  Without meaning to, you laughed and nodded enthusiastically. “It bloody did.”

・Her heart broke for you

・But she laughed lightly at your response

・You were both standing, staring out the window which overlooked the village below

・Her hand snaked down to yours and squeezed 

   “I’m sorry,” she whispered, entwining her fingers, still looking out the window

“Thank you, but I did what I had to do. And this is what came of it.” 

・She turned to you then, and leant her forehead against yours

“I won’t let you get hurt again.” 

    “And I you.” 

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

・Sighed when he saw them, hanging his head in defeat. “I wish you never had to go through that.”

 You smiled at him, “No other choice, my lord.” 

・Although you meant the name as a joke, a teasing nickname, he took it in a different way - 

・Like he could have somehow stopped this from happening. That he had the power to stop it. 

・He was very upset

・And went to sit by himself for a bit

・You didn’t go after him; sometimes people just need time to process their feelings. In other words - to feel their emotions...and work through them

・When he came back, Boromir got on both of his knees and held your hand against his face. 

・Shocked, you let him lead the situation

    “Y/n, forgive me. Please forgive me.” 

・Your shock didn’t waver, it didn’t falter - only grew

“Boromir, why would you ask for my forgiveness?” You knelt as well, so you were on the same level.

    “Because your family has lived in my kingdom for so long. Every decision my forefathers have made led you to endure this. They are to blame, and therefore, I am to blame.” 

・Tears welled in both of your eyes and he stroked his thumb against your cheek

       “I will not forgive you. Because there is no need for you to apologise. I know you will be a just ruler, but I will not have you apologise for my decisions.”

・Kneeling, he took you in his arms and hugged you fiercely. His hand firmly holding your head to his chest. 

𝐀𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐧

・Her gentle voice soothes you, it was the end of another battle and she was healing your wounds 

・As your partner, she tended to you without breaks. You had your own rooms that she took you to, getting help from the other’s to move you to the bed

・She was with you day and night

・So she saw your scars when you were unconscious and her heart broke from what she saw

・Arwen never wanted you to go through the hateful thing that was war. And seeing the results of that on your skin made her want to kill every person who did that to you

・When you finally awoke, she was asleep next to you

・But the moment you stirred, she jumped up and hurried to your side

    “My love, how do you feel?” 

“...sore,” you said in a croaky mumble 

・She smiled, going to get you some salve and drink that would mull the pain 

・When you realised you were topless, you deflated

・And when she came back, you stared at her, trying to see if anything had changed in her since seeing your scars 

・When you were about to talk, she beat you to it 

    “Yes, I’ve seen them. And I’m sorry you went through that.” 

・You were glad she spoke, because you still didn’t have the strength to explain 

・It was like Arwen could sense it; or maybe she just understood beings better than most. Because she didn’t push for it, she didn’t ask you too many questions. 

   “I can do my best to fade them as well, if you wish.”

・It took you a while to decide, but at the end of it. You decided against it. 

   “They’re apart of my story.”

・And again, she understood. 

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫 (this is where talks of being a prisoner of war is)

・You were both up late talking about life and the conversation went to war and what you had both experienced

・A deep conversation that you both didn’t intend on having 

・It was late night, with the stars above you, a fire in front of you and two pales of ale next to you

・Faramir didn’t mean for the conversation to go to a darker place 

・But you were in the beginnings of your courtship and you wanted to learn more about each other 

・It wasn’t until you took off your large jacket and left on your undershirt that he noticed the raised slices on your skin

・He took a sharp intake of breath, seeing your arms alone...it broke his heart to see just how hard you had fought for what you believe in

・Faramir didn’t know how to bring it up, but you knew what he was talking about

・You had been a prisoner of war, and had been tortured for information...but still held strong. They got nothing out of you but a bunch of spitting and swears 

・It was Aragorn who had found you, and both you and Faramir were eternally grateful 

・But Faramir hadn’t seen how bad the orcs had hurt you

・Their brutality was obvious and it took everything in Faramir not to scream out in agony and hatred

・You, who he loved so much. Who made him feel whole, who made him feel like the world made sense, who gave him a purpose - a will to live

・The fact that someone had hurt you so badly... he wished he could return the favour a hundred times over 

[rowanyx]

There is something so deep about Laerryn's choice in the finale, and Brennan's phrasing of the decision to be made.

To clarify, this scene (copied and pasted from the CR wiki transcripts):

BRENNAN: On a 16, you must make a tough decision. Do you want to further limit the release of energy and make the release of energy safer for the physical environs of Avalir and Cathmoíra, or do you want to ensure that Rau'shan and Ka'Mort will be permanently banished from Exandria?

TRAVIS: Impossible.

AABRIA: Laerryn's little joke to herself was always that the Heart of Avalir was the thing she inherited, but it was too small. She made it bigger, she improved it. She improved the Etheric Net and built this and that she was the Heart of Avalir, and she gave everything to this city. But I know what people are fighting to protect and I remember what Quay said about going down with the ship. So we will ensure it. This will work. Avalir be damned.

or this timestamp of the episode (in case the link doesn't work for the timestamp, the first comment's list has it labelled Laerryn's Tough Decision):

As we were first introduced to her, Laerryn Coramar-Seelie is the Architect Arcane. As Aabria herself even put, her whole life, all her work, is about taking the city and making it better. Building more. Expansion is the name of the game. So when Brennan specifies that the limiting of energy output will save the physical environs rather than the people, that holds weight.

Just, in a mechanics aspect, there is the fact she is an Abjurer. The whole point of her magic is exactly this choice. To stop things from being destroyed. Her wards that take the damage so that she or others will not. She is not built to bring destruction, leave the fight to others. She will be there to soften the blows that come her allies' ways. She is the one one deciding this, and it feels right, because she's spent her studies dedicated to figuring out how she will prevent the destruction that comes her way.

But that isn't all.

Because any other hero, any other party member, every other soul faced with this question could so easily think that it is a useless decision. A city can be rebuilt, but only if the Betrayer Gods are stopped before they kill all the people that can do so.

But Laerryn, who has dedicated her years to this, the position of Architect Arcane, knows this city and her structures far more intimately. She has been there, step by step, as she forged them. Designed them. Watched over their construction. It is by her hand it was built.

Asking her, specifically, is asking her to choose between everything she's done, or let it all burn. Asking her to make this decision is asking her to decide her legacy. Will she live on as the maker of the land that survived such devastation, but not the people, or will she go down as the one who helped stop the Calamity?

Her choice boiled down to this: Limiting the energy, their work, the libraries and churches, the colleges, grand towers and hallowed halls, stone and mortar, it all can go on unshattered. Or, stopping the Betrayers, the people may continue on.

Was her work more important than the lives she was surrounded by?

Aabria mentions Laerryn was given the Heart of Avalir, jokes how she improved it. But the Heart of Avalir, while magical, is only an engine. It was made, and can be again. So in this moment, I think Laerryn maybe realizes that the true heart of a city comes from the people. Always thinking, thoughts speed by her, whether or not she ever had time to really process the revelations before her demise.

Evandrin is already gone due her hubris. Who else would she lose? Would it have felt like home, without Loqautious there by her side? Would it truly feel like her city, without Patia keeping up with her? What would she cause, without Nydas to hold her back? What is Avalir, without her Brass Ring?

Her assistant, probably still waiting for her, in their offices, and the choice of which will see tomorrow?

How many will feel the heat of Rau'shan's flames as they die? How many will fall to Ka'Mort's earth?

None, she decides. Her friends and neighbors, the kinsmen of her home, will not feel these pains.

I think it is also a moment that beautifully showcases her accepting her death. She will not be here to heal her city. She's going down with the ship. Maybe her blueprints will be found and used, and Avalir will be as it once was. Maybe they won't, and they'll construct it all anew. But she won't see it, so it is their turn to take what was given and build on.

Of course, Rau'shan and Ka'Mort were not the only assets of the Calamity, and damage and destruction was still wrought across Exandria. But there are enough hands to clear the ruins and make their own stories. And that is because of the greatest Architect of them all.

She gave them a chance indeed.

[la-pheacienne]

Continuing my post about Jaime and Rhaegar’s respective roles in the sack of KL, let’s talk about Jaime and Rhaegar’s last conversation which I didn’t mention in that post and it deserves its own analysis. I find it extremely funny how both (some) Lannister stans and (some) Targ stans seem to think that the last convo between Rhaegar and Jaime was actually like this :

"Jaime, a sack is about to happen very soon. Elia and my kids are in a high risk of getting brutally murdered inside the very capital by the orders of your father who has ghosted us for some time but is deep down an enemy planning all of this in secret. Meanwhile, my father is planning to blow up the entire city any minute now because reasons. I’m leaving you here, alone, to take care of all this and keep all these people, my wife, two kids, father and the people of the city, safe from harm. If you fail to do any of that at any point, you’re incompetent, a traitor and a coward. Now I have to leave to do my thing with the others, don’t forget your duty and your vows, bye".

While it was actually like this :

"Jaime, there’s a war, we are in a pretty tight position and I gotta go to battle taking some men with me. Unfortunately my father wants to keep you close because he believes Tywin will not turn against him this way, and he’s kind of insane so there is nothing we can do about it without risking an even bigger outburst. Give me some time to get out of this mess, and then I’ll come back and we’ll fix this. All this will be over soon, bye".

So the first reading of Jaime and Rhaegar’s last convo completely misses the mark in many ways.

Some Lannister stans are screaming crying throwing up that Rhaegar left a literal cHiLD with all tHiS rEsPoNSIbILIty he doesn’t give a FUCK about anyone how dare he what kind of tHOUGhT PrOCesS is that !!!! Some Targ stans say that Rhaegar gave specific orders to Jaime to protect his father, wife, kids and city against multiple and opposite threats and thus honor his vows, and Jaime failing to do that means he is basically a traitor and a coward. And incompetent.

None of this is correct, because this isn’t what Rhaegar asked him to do, at all. Rhaegar did not know, could not know, could not possibly conceive or imagine or suspect that a sack was about to happen at the orders of Tywin no less and that his family was in immediate danger in.the.very.capital. Nobody.knew. That is why this sack is so horrifying. Also he may have been well aware that his father was insane but not to the point that he could expect him to literally want to blow up his own city. That is a whole other level of insanity he very legitimately didn’t expect. Thirdly, Rhaegar had no power to take Jaime or his family away at this point (« I dare not » is not an epheumism. He literally dares not. We’re talking about Aerys here).

All he asked Jaime to do is wait for Rhaegar to come back and in the meantime try to keep his father at bay. That.is.literally.it. Rhaegar said : « Give me some time, I’ll come back and fix this » And Jaime did wait and he did hope that Rhaegar would come back, but Rhaegar didn’t come back not because he decided to go on vacation with his new chick but because he got killed. Nothing went according to plan, and Jaime had to take matters in his own hands.

So :

Rhaegar did not leave """""all that responsibility""""" to a """"literal child"""".  He left his father the king with the one member of the Kingsguard the king specifically wanted with him, and he told that member of the Kingsguard to literally, wait it out and be a KG. Apart from the fact that Rhaegar couldn’t take Jaime away because Aerys wanted him there, Jaime was not a random child, he was a member of the KG. Him staying with Aerys is technically what he was supposed to do as a member of the KG anyway, there is nothing abnormal or particularly stupid or outrageous or naive in this """"thought process"""", despite Jaime’s age. That order seemed both inevitable (it was Aerys’ order) and reasonable (Jaime was a KINGSguard after all), at the time.

Likewise, Rhaegar did not reasonably expect Jaime to go all Superman on both his father and Tywin’s men and save like the entire population of KL including his own family, all by himself. Again, what he actually told Jaime to do was literally wait for him to come back and try to keep his father at bay. He hoped Jaime’s presence would satiate his father until he comes back. That’s all. He did not know that Aerys would want to blow up KL, he did not know what Jaime would be forced to do and he did not expect the sack and the fact that his family would be murdered in the capital. He didn’t entrust Jaime with all these things simply because he wasn’t expecting these things. All these things were definitely not part of """the job""" Rhaegar gave him. Rhaegar’s GHOST saying to Jaime in his dreams "I left my wife and children in your hands" is manifesting Jaime’s guilt for not being able to save the family. It is a ghost in Jaime’s dream. This doesn’t mean that Rhaegar literally expected Jaime to prevent his father from blowing up the city and simultaneously protect his family from an entirely different threat that wasn’t even remotely a possibility then. Jaime failing to do all of the above by himself doesn’t make him a traitor, an incompetent loser or a coward.

The distortion of their actual convo led the entire fandom to engage in a strawman argument ad nauseam. Lannister stans are attacking Rhaegar for leaving "all this responsibility" to Jaime and Targ stans are attacking Jaime for failing to honor this responsibility, while "all this responsibility" was never part of their actual conversation to begin with because none them had the slightest idea of what was about to happen in the first place.

It is such a pity because this last convo between these two men is so tragic and haunting and beautiful, Jaime (grrm) describes his last visual memory of Rhaegar in an unusually poetic manner, and the fact that deep down he is still waiting and hoping for Rhaegar to come back makes me insane. « The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate ». « So the Prince of Dragonstone mounted up and donned his tall black helm, and rode forth to his doom ». « It is not Aerys I rue, it is Robert ». « I almost mistook you for Aegon the Conqueror ». « How much can a crown be worth when a crow can feast on a king? ». And instead of focusing on that and the symbolism of it all and that fact that it’s literally foreshadowing Dany’s or Jon’s « return » and their meeting with Jaime (Rhaegar will come back in the end in some form or another, all hope is not lost) we’re reiterating bad takes about a supposed conflict between them ad infinitum. It is boring, reductive and uninspired.

Be serious, read the text and stop spreading misinformation about either side. This is not a football game. We all love a fandom fight occasionally but it is important to actually engage with the themes of the story from time to time.