#serial killer behaviour if you ask me

[rubydubsnuby]

Someone lock this woman up

[danrifics]

just found out dan howell uses a generic lockscreen image on his phone??? i no longer trust him

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna + the first time he asks you to watch yuuji for him :)

“Yes mom, everything is okay- no I don’t need you to send me food- ma, please-“ you try reasoning with your mother, phone between your cheek and your shoulder, while trying to cook something up.

It’s been a month since your arrival and she’s worried you might not find the comfort she so desperately wants you to have. You love her, but she can be a little too much. You manage to hang up and then you’re deep in thought, not knowing if you should add pepper or not to your pot, when a deep voice near your ear makes you jump.

“Yo.”

“For fuck- hi?! Couldn’t you, I don’t know, make any kind of noise before scaring me shitless?” You say to college!sukuna, who is looking at your pan from behind your shoulder.

“That looks like a mess,” he responds, ignoring your outburst. He's so nonchalant, almost as if judging negatively something is his natural behaviour towards strangers.

“Get out,” you whine, trying to push him away by putting your hands on his chest. He doesn’t move an inch, merely resorting to stare at you from below his nose. Your breath almost hitches: his eyes are piercing red, and the fact that he has a pair of them tattoed beneath his real ones makes him look-

"You look like a serial killer, should I call the cops on you or are you going to step back?" you say, raising one eyebrow. He blows in your face and gives you space only when he hears you whine. Asshole. Your hands fall from his chest and you slightly touch his torso. Oh, the boy has muscles, that's for sure.

"I need you to watch the brat for me," he tells you straightforwardly.

You're confused. "You need me to watch who?"

He rolls his eyes. "My brother, I need you to watch my brother."

You gape up at him, then raise your shoulders and move around him to get to the fridge. "No thanky youuu."

"Come on. They need me at the studio, a client requested me for a tattoo," he says following you, hands in his pockets.

“Not surprised you’re a tattoo artist. I’m sorry for your clients,” you mumble.

“The fuck did you say?” He snarls.

You huff. “I said, what’s in it for me?”

You turn around closing the fridge door with your hip, and you find him staring at you, again.

“Pal, you have a serious staring problem-“

“I’m ordering take out for ya.”

“Huh?” You respond, a little baffled.

“Are you dense?” He starts, a bored tilt to his tone. He thinks you’re kinda cute, but the fact you talk back makes him want to shut you up. With his own tongue down your throat, possibly. “I said I’m ordering you food. Take care of my brother and you can ask me for whatever you want for dinner. It’s not like you’re a great cook, anyway,” he adds, pointing towards the pan you still have on the stove.

You lightly slap his arm and he fights back the urge to slap you back on your forehead. Affectionately! Maybe.

“You’re so rude. Go, I’ll watch Yuuji. I want seafood boil, thanks,” you singsong. In your peripheral vision you see him stretching out his hand.

“Shake on it.”

You put your hand in his and try to grip him as strongly as possible, but he notices and it feels like he’s trying to crush your bones when he grips your hand back.

“Ow! Okay! Deal!” you say stepping back and massaging your hand, frowning.

“Thanks,” he says smirking.

[stardusksx]

ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ALWAYS COME HOME. aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch seems to be doing everything in his power to get hurt, and that scares you. ( takes places directly after the events of 5x02 )

not my gif! credits to creator <3

warnings: angst, fluff, bau!reader, established relationship, reader is a touch insecure in the relationship but hotch reassures, f*yet, no use of y/n, mentions of self-destructive/suicidal behaviour, arguments, happy ending because i’m not self-destructive :) ( word count: 1.85k )

You didn’t know how late it was, just that the sky had long since darkened and your body ached from the seemingly endless day. But it wasn’t the twilight hour that had drained you— it was watching your boyfriend carelessly stride into a hostage situation like he was simply going to get some groceries.

He hadn’t said anything to you about his plan. Hadn’t said anything to anyone. Instead, you had to stare at his back— devoid of a bullet vest— in disbelief as he disappeared into a house occupied by a child serial killer and his son, the unsub who had been profiled as mentally unwell and unstable. It had been too late to stop him, too late to ask him just what in the hell he was thinking.

You could ask him now. But you didn’t have the energy to argue, so instead you said nothing. You quietly shrugged off your coat as he followed you into the shared apartment, hanging it on one of the pegs.

“It’s a bit late to cook anything, do you want to order in?” he asks, lingering in the doorway.

You hummed noncommittally, placing your bag on the table and unpacking a few items you’d need to put back in the safe later.

He paused. You tried to act like there was nothing amiss. “Or we could get the lasagne out of the freezer that Jessica brought over last week?”

“Whatever you want.” You respond, and the silence lingers for a few contemplative beats. You don’t glance up at him.

“Are you angry at me?”

You inhale, hands halting in their movements. You hadn’t expect him to bring it up— he’d been one track minded lately, so consumed by foyet that you’d started to think something trivial like you giving him the cold shoulder would fly under his radar. And even if he had noticed it, you didn’t think he’d care. With losing his son, being taunted by a serial killer, you wouldn’t blame him for having little capacity for anything else.

You look at him. His brows are furrowed. You look away.

“I’m fine. ” You answer simply, going back to racking through your bag for something— what, you weren’t even sure now, but some insecure part of you didn’t want to have this conversation. Like he had bigger things to be concerned about than your feelings, and you could already see how it was going to go down. He was hard to reason with when he was like this.

But he also wasn’t one to let things go unresolved. He spoke your name pointedly. When you glanced at him, he hadn’t moved from his position near the door, briefcase discarded by his feet.

“Fine. Yes, i’m angry, Aaron.” You continue rooting around your bag, “What you did was reckless, and you could have been hurt or—” you could have been killed. It hangs in the air between you, unsaid but obvious. Over a month had elapsed since he’d been hospitalised after the foyet’s attack, and you hadn’t really had an outlet for all of the fear that had flooded you over those days. It hadn’t been about you— he was the one who needed the comfort, or, well, as close to comfort as Hotch would accept. In reality, he’d been so focused in on finding Foyet from the minute he woken up that you hadn’t even had a moment to express it to him. And that was okay. Really, it hadn’t been about you. But god, when there was a moment you didn’t know if he’d ever wake up, it was the worst you had ever felt in your life.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, in that blasé way of his, “But i wasn’t.”

The words infuriated you. A sharp burst of anger clawed it’s way through your veins, you whipped around to face him. And there he stood— arms folded, brows furrowed in that assessing way of his. Sometimes, just a little bit, you hated how stoic he could be.

“But you could have been!” You snapped, “Obviously, seeing you walk in there like you have nothing to loose is a fucking problem to me, Aaron. It's like you’re trying to get killed. So i’m not just angry, i’m terrified. As if worrying about Foyet being after you isn’t enough, you're purposely putting yourself in harm's way.”

He watched you for a moment, giving away nothing. But you’d learned him over the years, know the way that he thinks. Even when he isn’t talking, isn’t blinking, you could tell what was going on in his head. Yet, sometimes, you needed him to show you. It was exhausting always having to infer. “I made a call,” He spoke your name like he was reasoning with you, “It’s what i thought was best in the situation, and i’ll admit that the outcome wasn’t what i’d hoped for. But I stand by it— someone needed to try and get through to the unsub.”

“I don't think you gave it much thought at all, actually.” You bit back sharply, taking a step towards him, “No vest, no conferring with the team, no communication about your choice of actions. Tell me, what is best about that? Because i’m god damn sure that a couple of months ago you would have never done something so erratic.”

And there it was— the topic you’d been tiptoeing around, what this was really about. No one wanted to dictate how he was navigating everything with Foyet, but as time ticked by, his actions were starting to become more and more worrying. Of course, all of it was going to affect him. But this was a path of self destruction.

“Well a couple months ago I made calls that led to a bus full of people being murdered and Morgan knocked out cold while a psychopathic serial killer could have quite easily ended him. So, excuse me if I had to make some adjustments.”

“So that’s it? You expect me to just watch you put yourself in harm's way and pat you on the back afterwards? Great. That’s just perfect, Aaron. It’s not like I love you or anything. It’s not like it makes me physically sick at the thought of you…” Your hands fly up in exasperation. He watches and watches and watches. He’s always so, unbelievably, calm.

There’s one brief flicker, a barely noticeable swallow in his throat. But his stoicism does not fracture. “All of those lives are not worth the price of mine. If I have to put myself in harm's way, then so be it.”

You blink at him incredulously. He stares back.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter, a scoff leaving your lips. You step away, wishing to look at anything but him. “I’m going to get changed.”

You don’t wait for him to reply. He probably doesn't anyways. The bedroom door shuts behind you, frustrated tears that had been building up finally flowing freely. You kicked off shoes and items of clothing, stepping under the shower head and letting ribbons of hot water cascade down your skin. It felt, for a moment, like you could relax.

But then you remembered how he might not have come home. How he could have been in some morgue instead of the next room. The water became too hot, suffocating, and you hastily shut off the tap and stepped away from the lingering steam.

You’re exhausted, and part of you just wanted him to fold you into his arms and tell you that it would all be okay. But you couldn’t expect that of him now. It was Aaron who needed the support. And you could be that— tomorrow, when the freshness of your frustrations had time to dim and you could look at him without thinking about how close you’d been to losing him. Now, you need to sleep.

Stepping out into the bedroom, you expect it to be vacant. But instead he sits on the edge of the bed, quickly looking up when he hears the door crack open. You avoid his eyes as they watch you rummage through draws for your clothes.

He says your name. You pretend not to hear. He says it louder. You pause, but do not turn to him, and the soft sound of his feet against the carpet precedes the feeling of his presence behind you. His hands slide up your forearms, and suddenly a sob was trapping itself in your throat.

“Honey…” He whispers, willing you to face him. Reluctantly, you turn around, avoiding his gaze. His hands engulfed your face anyway and coaxed your eyes to his.

“You could be the only thing left in my life and that would be all the reasons in the world to make sure I came back home.” His thumbs wiped away tears you hadn’t realised had been shed, “I’m sorry that I scared you. If it was the other way around I'd—” He shook his head, “I don’t know what I'd do. If i’m honest, all i’ve been for the past month is afraid. Of losing Jack, of losing you. I don’t know which way is worse— that Jack is away from me and I can't be the one who protects him, or that you’re right here and I still might fail to protect you. I don’t know how to think about anything else.”

He pushed away damp strands of your hair, “I don’t want to die. I don’t. I just suppose that all I'm thinking about is catching Foyet that every second I spend away from searching for leads is another second I could be too late in saving someone I love. I think it’s why I rushed into that house, i just wanted the case over with so I could get back to Foyet. But I shouldn't have done it. You’re right.” He inhaled, “I want this all over with. I want us to be able to spend the weekend taking Jack to the park, and I want to tuck him into bed at night knowing I'll be making him pancakes in the morning. And I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life knowing that nothing could take you away.“

“I want that too,” You said softly, “And we’ll get there, I know it. But please, I need you to take care of yourself. I can’t lose you, Aaron.”

“You won’t. I promise.” He assured, conviction laced in his words. Then, “I love you.”

One hand still on your face, the other reached down to pull you into him by the small of the back. It had been so long since your kisses had been anything but fleeting that the feverishness in which he pressed his lips to yours caught you by surprise for a moment. But, god, it was everything that you needed.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you melted into him like it was the easiest thing since the beginning of time. And even if he had doubts about his ability to protect you, there would never be a place in the world where you felt more safe than in his embrace.

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

THIRTY-ONE – family drama

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WC: 3.1K words

a/n: this is a word vomit😍 hence why I took longer to write it. had multiple mental breakdowns whilst doing this and my college projects🥰 anyways I said it would be 2K worth of words but it’s more💀

receiving those messages from aria’s mom made you realise that humanity was definitely screwed ever since humans decided that they wanted to be the ‘king of the jungle’. how was 50 year old woman threatening a 22 year old man? you knew you had to tell jake. this was for your safety and the others safety too but, you couldn’t lie, the curiosity of finding out as to why aria was acting up and also why she didn’t have a soulmate was itching all over you.

of course, her behaviour could’ve easily stemmed from her childhood. this is how usually murderers and serial killers even start their dark path. trauma. you sighed and turned to look around your college dorm. small but cozy, perfect to fit 3-4 girls. so when aria got admitted and possibly also kicked from the school, you’d assume you were staying with just yvette and mae.

the door opens and shuts, there were shuffling noises at the front door. you didn’t bother to look, it was probably the girls or jake. marsh decides to inspect the sound at the front door. you heard her little mewls and a deep voice that followed after. once you had looked up, you noticed it was jake. he held up marsh on his shoulder, carrying her.

“hey, what’s up? why were you staring at the white cement wall?” jake says. you didn’t say anything, you were practically looking at him from head to toe. his jet black hair that was recently grown out so that it was longer. the denim jacket that he always wore and was so famously known for around the campus. his lips, full and plump as it can ever be. “okay, now you’re staring at me. there is definitely something wrong.”

“aria’s mom texted me.” you had admitted. jake frowns. “and before you say anything, she just texted me to ask you to go to some location. i’m not allowed to go.”

“well, that’s good she didn’t ask you to follow. i wouldn’t have allowed you to come with anyways. i don’t want to get you hurt.”

you could see the sadness in jake’s eyes, it was heartbreaking. you knew he was just confused more than ever. he didn’t know why everything was so complicated with aria when in fact it should be over. why was her mother involved with this somehow?

“how about i get sunghoon to hide somewhere so that you wont be alone?” you had asked. jake shook his head. he lets marsh down from his arms and she scurries off to the other rooms.

“i don’t want to harm any of you. besides, sunghoon has already been through it.” jake explains. you had huffed.

“and? stop pretending to be strong and nonchalant. 2 guys is better than one.” you could hear jake sighing.

“i’ve hurt you guys and especially you for so long. i don’t want to be a burden and ask you guys to-”

you were quick to cut jake off quickly, “a burden? jake, just cause you blew us off for years and became a jerk because of aria doesn’t mean you were a burden. we still cared about you. we didn’t think you were a nuisance. the only reason why we weren’t as close as back then was because of aria.”

“i know.”

“then if you knew, you’d let us help you.”

“you guys have helped me multiple times and i…i’ve just ruined our friendship for 6 whole years.” it was clear jake was about to breakdown. his eyes were starting to get glossy, the waver in his voice. the way he chokes on his own words. you did what you could only think of and went over to give him a hug.

jake accepts it. his arms snuggling right above your waist. his head parked right at the crook of your neck, you start to feel small droplets of tears fall onto your skin. jake sobs in your arms. in all your years of knowing him (since you were kids), jake was never the type to cry. this was the first time you were seeing him cry and you could feel the intensity of those feelings. was it the soulmate bond? you couldn’t bare to let him go, you had to let him cry on your shoulder.

when mae and yvette walked through the front door after 10 minutes of jake sobbing, you had gestured for them to pretend they didn’t see anything. they quickly got the note and pretended that they didn’t see anything. they both went to their respective rooms. you had rubbed jake’s back and he only seemed to tighten the hug like you were going to disappear from his grip.

“hey, i won’t leave you. i’m here.” you whispered in his ears softly, comforting him as best as possible.

once he had calmed down, he couldn’t look back up at you. he was embarrassed to have cried. you placed a finger under his chin. his eyes were slightly swollen, wet tears down his cheek. yet, he still looked effortlessly good looking. the universe really has their faves. “don’t be afraid to cry in front of me and be vulnerable. i’ve cried in front of you a bunch so you don’t have to feel embarrassed to do the same.”

he nods, looking in your eyes. there was something in the air. the tension was different. you feel jake moving closer slightly. his head tilting a little as his focus shifts from your eyes to your lips. you held in a breath watching him do so. however, the kiss never happens because mae yelled out loud when jake was just about to land his lips right on yours.

her hands were covering her eyes. “fuck! i’m so sorry!!” she apologises quickly before turning and running towards yvette’s room.

both you and jake turned to look at each other and laughed. that was one way to break the tension. moving onto later at night, you, yvette, mae and jake planned a big plan for what was going to go down tomorrow. it was a perfect plan that would be executed well.

jake’s guide to not getting murdered/kidnapped

1. make sure sunghoon is around and sneaking whilst hearing everything so that he could report to us. back up: jay

2. if aria’s mom ties jake up, keep something sharp in pocket that doesn’t look suspicious. you went to join boy’s scout at like 10, you should remember how to untie a rope dumbass

3. have the upper hand, never let your guard down

4. that’s about it. don’t get killed

as the sun rises, so do you. you had barely gotten any sleep. after creating the plan, you were up all night coming up clothing/dress ideas for your course. it was hard. you could barely think. especially since you kept thinking about that almost kiss. god, that really kept you up at night.

jake had woken up and his groans as he wakes up. the sun glaring right into his eyes. he sits right up and tugs on the curtain. the darkness consumes his room and he lays right back in bed. however, just as jake was on the brink of falling asleep again, the smell of eggs slips under his door. he shots up and practically lets the door fly open. he goes to the kitchen to inspect the smell and he was definitely greeted with the sexiest thing in the morning. you were in a messy bun, oversized shirt and pyjama shorts. this should be the most domestic thing ever but he felt his heart racing.

he goes closer. you were busy with the eggs that you didn’t notice jake. there were arms wrapping around your waist and then a deep sleepy voice whispers in your ears. “morning.” it sends shivers down your spine.

“m-morning. why are you up so early?”

“could smell the eggs from my room so i got up and went here.”

“it’s just eggs.” you explained.

“and pancakes. something you always made back then when i stayed over at your home for a sleepover.” jake says. it was true, he used to always sleepover as his parents were quite busy with their business. your parents always held out with open arms for jake whenever he was home alone. hence, most of the time he stayed over.

“we were 12 when i made for eggs and pancakes. it didn’t even taste that great. i think i burnt the pancakes a little.”

“well, i thought you did great at 12 years old.” you deadpanned at jake’s words.

“you always told me it was bad.”

“when have i?”

“are you trying to gaslight me?” jake leans closer. your breath hitches.

“no. i’m not trying to gaslight you. i just want to say my true feelings at 12 years old. you were great at making eggs and pancakes back then even if they were crispy.” he adds. you picked up the spatula and showed it to him, ready to hit him with it. he laughs and apologises.

there was a buzz on jake’s phone while you were eating breakfast and chatting but jake didn’t seem to care. he didn’t even acknowledge it so once he went to wash the dishes, you had peaked into his phone.

messages from an unknown number. definitely aria’s mom.

“you don’t have to care about that. i’ll be safe. don’t worry.” jake says.

picture this, you were looking right up at jake as he was standing right behind you. at this rate, you might as well recreate that one famous spiderman kiss. which is exactly why jake leaned in and placed his lips right on yours. you could feel your lungs start to feel lighter. like you were healing from your hanahaki. jake felt like this was right, kissing you felt right. it had fit into the puzzle. your hands reached up to cup jake’s face but he pulls back slightly. there was a slight pout on your lips that you had unconsciously did.

“don’t pout. i want to kiss you more but your neck is going to hurt if i continue kissing you like that.”

“you don’t find this romantic?”

“it is romantic but i want to properly kiss you.” jake says. you could feel your face heat up.

jake’s phone starts ringing. “you should pick it up.” you say. jake nods. he lightly places a peck on your forehead before picking it up.

you had to sit there processing what happened.

did you just kiss sim jaeyun?

“i saw that little stunt, young lady.” yvette’s voice brings you out of your trance. you had jolted a little and sighed in relief when you realised who it was.

“what stunt?” yvette deadpans at your words.

“don’t lie to me. you and jake did a spiderman kiss. gurl, are you that desperate for his dick. be honest.” she folds her arms. your eyes widened. you could feel your face turn warmer.

“no. why would i-”

“if girls had boners, you’d be having one right now.” yvette casually says. you were stunned.

“yvette, why do you have to say it so vulgarly.” mae says as she appears from her bedroom. she yawns. “if jake and (name) wanna have sex, then they could after all. they are soulmates.”

“i don’t want to fuc-”

“she’s not allowed to. jake still needs to prove that he is good enough for her. after all, 6 years of royally fucking up their super close friendship. almost killing her by plain out rejecting her. rude. i can list more of what happened through out these 30 episodes.” yvette explains. mae sighs, she pats your shoulder.

“you’re on your own (name).”

you had groaned. “it was just one kiss. we aren’t doing anything more than that. i am still waiting for jake to make it up to me.”

“but you’re slowly giving in. i get it, he’s your soulmate. it’s hard to say no and wait but like think about yourself. will you?”

“i know, i know. i’m thinking about myself and i will continue to do so. this was my one moment of weakness, okay? 13 year old me would be so happy.” you had huffed. yvette pinches your cheeks.

“look at you. you’re a simp. this is exactly why jake was your chosen soulmate. you two are simps that it’s gross.”

you rolled your eyes. it gets silent in the house. no chattering from jake in the other room. weird. you had stood up and went over to check up on him but he wasn’t there. oh crap. you had picked up your phone and dialed for sunghoon.

“hello?” sunghoon says.

“jake left to see aria’s mom.”

“already? goddamn it. let me leave now and maybe i can hide somewhere there.”

��alright, be safe.”

“i will.”

the call quickly ends and you had ran to the bathroom to bathe and get ready for the possible scariest time of your life. once you were done, you had ran to put on your shoes. yvette holds you back.

“hey, calm down.”

“i can’t. what if aria’s mom hurts jake?”

“she won’t after all. aria’s dad is the principal of a prestigious school. she can’t ruin his career.”

“we don’t know how crazy she can be.”

“sunghoon will be there. mae also called jay to be the backup. they’ll be there and we can be assured that jake will be safe.” yvette says. you didn’t know what to say or do because you were worried.

“don’t worry. let’s just trust jake. he’ll handle it.” mae places a hand on your shoulder.

“i hope so.” were the only the things you could say.

as for jake, he was busy walking towards a neighbourhood. the address led him to a gated community just like aria’s home however, he would’ve recognised aria’s home easily. he always found it weird that aria has never brought him to her house even in the 6 years they were dating.

‘what a weirdo’, jake thought. he didn’t want to associate himself to aria anymore though. there was no point, after all. he made it right onto the property. in a way, it looked like a witches’ castle. that is until an older man opens the door, he looked sophisticated. a little confused as to who jake was.

“who are you?” he asks. “my apologies, sounds a little rude to say so.”

at least whoever this guy was, he was nice.

“oh, umm. my name is jake. i was im aria’s boyfriend.” jake explains. the man’s eyes widened.

“oh, i’ve heard about you from aria. i am her dad.”

‘so much for the genes not coming from him. aria is not like him at all’, jake thought. he smiles slightly. “oh umm, mrs.im asked me to come over. she wanted to talk about something.”

as soon as jake mentions about aria’s mom, mr.im starts frowning. “she’s in the room. let me go get her. i’m assuming she wants to talk to you about our family.” mr.im pushes the door wider to let jake in. he enters the space. mr.im goes to get mrs.im. after a couple of minutes, aria’s mom appears. she walks down the stairs in her…fur coat(?)

‘crazy woman.’ jake thought as he eyes her down.

she smirks. “ah, jake. welcome to my home. the place where everything is perfect.” she dramatically says.

‘uh huh sure. everything is totally perfect. aria is equally as insane as you are, old woman. acting like a disney villain.’

mr.im rolls his eyes. “why don’t you sit down. the maids will prepare for you to drink something.” he tells jake. jake goes to settle down on the couch. mrs.im eyes mr.im, it seems like their marriage was not all that perfect.

mrs.im settles down on the seat. she sits down like a fine royal woman. however, she clearly isn’t. mr.im rolls his eyes once again.

“since you’re here now, jake. i must ask, why did you have to send our daughter to the mental institution? when she’s clearly fine.” she folds her arm.

“she’s not fine. i can assure you, the people at the mental institution will sort out her feelings and thoughts.” jake explains. mrs.im sighs.

“our daughter was fine before she met you. maybe you two should’ve broken up 6 years ago. you put us in so much trouble.”

“i know i should’ve after all, i have my own reasons as to why i should’ve left.” jake says.

“like what? falling in love with your soulmate? that’s utter nonsense. me and mr.im weren’t soulmates. we simply loved each other so much that we broke our soulmate bonds with our assigned soulmates.”

jake’s jaw drops. mr.im pinches the bridge of his nose.

“how many times do i have to tell you, i never wanted to marry in the first place. we both killed our soulmates by getting married! our daughter was also cursed to not have a soulmate because of your wrongdoings!” mr.im yells. mrs.im rolls her eyes.

“i didn’t kill my soulmate. you did. you wanted this as much as i did.” she fires back. jake watches them go back and forth. it starts to filter out as he processes what exactly was the reason why aria didn’t have a soulmate.

“then what? you go to her grave every single time during her death anniversary. for what? guilt?” mrs.im says.

“i’m doing it out of love. something that a heartless person like you doesn’t have.” mr.im answers.

these were all just family drama but certainly good information. jake didn’t want to intrude further. he had to leave. this was wrong. hence, he slowly stood up and stepped back, leaving the house quietly.

this explains why aria didn’t know what a soulmate was. she doesn’t have a tied soulmate to her. all because of the curse that her mom had started. now all the generations after aria wouldn’t be able to have a soulmate. her kids wouldn’t grow up with a soulmate tied to them. this was a big news. a news he had to break to you and everyone else.

once he leaves the place, sunghoon pops out the shrubs.

“oh fuck.” jake jumps back. sunghoon snickers and pats his shoulder.

“heard something huge?” he asks. jake sighs.

“very huge family drama. i’ll tell you and the others when we get back.” the shrubs moved again. jay falls out of it. he groans.

“i am never playing spy again.”

“don’t worry, we aren’t ever going to do it again. jake has the tea. let’s go back.” sunghoon smacks jay’s shoulder. jay winces.

as they walked out from the gated community, jake’s arms went around both jay’s and sunghoon’s shoulder. it seems like their friendship never had a problem.

taglist[closed]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @heelovesmeknot @silquids

VOTE HERE for my next smau!

[slay00ryu]

Date with your Devilish Butcher

So you and Ronin are dating officially now, but hey you never went out on a real date (unless you count your first meeting or all the truth and dares games dates).

The idea of a date never came to your mind until Luca and Feli were acting all lovey-dovey in VC.

After that you were thinking about a real date all the time, you wouldn't ask Ronin out of course, you didn't know what a serial killer would even want to do on said date.

Well to your surprise Ronin decided to ask you out himself and you agreed without hesitation. How will your date go? Well let's see it together.

_____________________________________________

List of trigger warnings

- Blood and Gore

- Swears

- Violence

- Murder (duh)

You've been warmed, enjoy! <3

_____________________________________________

🫀

You were in the middle of getting ready for your date with Ronin. He asked you out a week ago while you were telling him about the story you wanted to write, you were frustrated because you couldn't find any new murder ideas and you wanted to write a "dark romance" story with a murder motive, then he said the sentence that left you stunned :

Ronin: Darlin' let's go out next Wednesday.

Those were his exact words, he didn't exactly wait for your answer, he just laughed at your surprised expression and left for "work", of course the next morning all news sites were flooded with a new murder from "The Butcher".

Now you were standing in front of your mirror adding the final touches to the outfit you prepared. For some reason your favourite devil decided that you have to wear a white shirt, everything else is up to you, but not the shirt. You still had half an hour left until Ronin would arrive at your doorstep to collect you to that mysterious date he had prepared. You sat down on your bed to mentally prepare for whatever he had planned, after all, you can't exactly expect anything from the devil.

Suddenly your phone rang, the noise almost made you jump, you quickly reached for it and picked up the call that turned out to be from Ronin.

User: Ronin? Why are you calling me?

Ronin: Get your pretty self down here, I'm already waitin' for you.

You were quick on your feet, you moved to your window and looked out of it. There he was, he gave off this arrogant energy even from so far away, you shut the curtains and looked back to your phone. He was still on the line.

User: Ronin you were supposed to be here in half an hour!

Ronin: Awh stop whining like you aren't all dolled up and ready to go now, darlin'. Don't keep the devil waiting, or he may come for you himself.

There was silence from your side, followed by his snicker and three beeping sounds informing you that the call has ended. You sighed and massaged your temples. Oh how annoying Ronin was. You grabbed your favourite bag, made sure that you've put everything you needed and quickly made your way out of your house.

Ronin: Took you long enough, my divine darlin'.

You were greeted by Ronin's wide grin. He closed the distance between the two of you and placed a kiss on the top of your head. He took your hand in his and looked you up and down. He took his sweet time while he was obviously checking you out.

Ronin: My, my, what a sight you are.

A small hint of a blush found its way to your cheeks.

User: Oh shut it.

You squeezed his hand to show off your annoyance with his behaviour.

User: Where are we going?

Ronin:'s a surprise. You'll see once we arrive.

He smirked when he saw your disappointed face and pinched your cheek with his free hand.

Ronin: Awh, cut the dramatics, you'll like it.

🫀

It took the two of you a ten minute ride to reach Ronin's chosen destination. He covered your eyes with a blindfold for a "better reaction" you didn't argue with him. It was somewhat sweet when you gave it more thought. Yes, he is a serial killer and could blindfold you so you wouldn't know how to escape the possible death he could arrange for you. But Ronin also proved himself to be quite the romantic. He made sure to visit you when you had a shitty day. He gave you advice for your killer protagonists (sometimes even tried out your ideas to see if they would actually work).

Ronin: We're here, writer darlin'.

Ronin's voice from your side and the sound of the passenger door opening tore you out of your thoughts. You could feel his hands moving to unbuckle your seat belt and then grasping your hands to help you get out of his car.

User: Can I take this thing off now?

You asked and reached your hand to the blindfold to lift it up, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

Ronin: Don't you trust me baby? I'm an amazing guide, those dead people somehow had to find their way to my favourite gruesome alley.

He chuckled at his own words and you just furrowed your brows.

User: You are so... Infuriating sometimes.

Ronin: But you love the way I push your buttons, don't you Darlin'?

He was, unfortunately, not wrong. You loved him and all that came with him. His twisted games and grotesque nature. His past and present. God, you loved him even when he made you want to punch him in that pretty face of his. You had to admit that you started to like the idea of being the Devil's Fallen angel.

Ronin was keeping his hands on your shoulders, he was walking behind you and guiding you. At first you were walking on hard concrete, but then you could feel grass under your feet. You walked through the fields of grass for some time, then Ronin stopped you. He moved his hands to your blindfold and gently untied it.

Ronin: We're here. How do you like this darling?

Ronin whispered into your ear. Your eyes had to take their sweet time to adjust to the sunlight. But after you regained your vision your eyes met the most breathtaking sight ever. You were in the middle of an apple orchid, surrounded by nothing but apple trees, never ending fields of grass, and sometimes even a couple or small groups of friends could be seen here and there.

You turned around to look at Ronin, a wide smile spread over your lips as you wrapped your around him.

User: Ronin this is... Wow... No one ever took me to such a beautiful place before.

You said with a blush as you realized how cheesy your words must've sounded. You wanted to take a step back but Ronin wrapped his own arms around you.

Ronin: You're so fuckin' adorable when you're actin' all happy and excited.

He chuckled, but this was a genuine and sweet sounding chuckle. You smiled at his words and took a step back, taking a hold of his hand.

User: So, what's the plan? Are we just going to walk around the apple orchid?

Ronin shook his head in response.

Ronin: Nah, I wanted to pick some apples and then we can go back to your place.

You could see in his face that he had mischief in mind. What could he possibly want to do with these apples to have that kind of expression on his face? You decided that it's best to not know and just regret this later if it's something really bad.

You were walking through the apple trees, Ronin picked the apples and stored them into a bag that he brought with himself. You knew that he liked anything that had even a little taste of apple in it. So it was no surprise when Ronin ate one of the apples he picked while the two of you were walking.

This date felt almost "normal", you didn't feel like your boyfriend was a serial killer who was brutal and gruesome. This doesn't mean that you don't like him when he acts like... Well Ronin, the devil's butcher. It was just this simple walk through the grass, was a good change of pace from time to time.

You didn't take long in the orchid. After less than an hour later you were on your way back home (this time you could see the road) Ronin was humming along to a death metal song while he was tapping the rhythm on the steering wheel. You watched through the window, you drove past a small village, a forest and your city.

Soon you arrived back at your place. Ronin placed the bag full of apples on the kitchen counter and turned to look at you. His signature smirk present on his lips.

User: What are you scheming?

You asked, brow raised and arms folded over your chest.

Ronin: Oh nothing dangerous, yet.

He snickered and pulled you by your arm towards him.

Ronin: Since we've got so many apples, we are obligated to use them, no?

It didn't take a genius to realise that what Ronin meant was that you have to use them. You sighed heavily clearly annoyed by his behaviour but you soon gave in. After all his help, you could as well do something for him, even though he shouldn't be praised for using the excuse of helping you to commit more murders.

You took off your leather jacket, the same jacket that Ronin gave you a few weeks prior and tossed it at the dining table.

User: Fine. I'll make you an apple pie, happy?

You asked as you started to take out the necessary ingredients from your refrigerator. Ronin's face answered your question on its own. You swore that the smile he was wearing right now was even bigger than his usual smiles.

Ronin: Oh you don't know how grateful I truly am, darlin'.

He answered for what you gave him an eye roll.

User: If you're so grateful then lend me a hand here.

You have him a scolding look and he raised him hands in a gesture of surrender. He took off his own jacket and placed it next to yours.

Ronin: Fine, fine. I'll do the chopping, after all it's something I'm good at.

He made another joke about his "profession" and you almost laughed but you couldn't give him the satisfaction of actually finding his jokes funny.

Your time wasn't bad. Ronin actually helped you with more than just chopping the apples. He also annoyed you by poking you at your sides or on your nose. You just elbowed him in answer for what he just chuckled and gave you some flirtatious answers. You placed the pie into the oven and cleaned the kitchen that was covered in flour (Ronin decided to throw some at you and answered in doing the exact same thing).

Ronin: So while we wait. How about watchin' a movie baby? I have a perfect pick for today.

There wasn't anything better to do so you agreed. You moved to your living room that was really close to your kitchen so you would hear the oven alarm go off. You both sat down on the sofa. While Ronin was looking for a movie that definitely sounded like a slasher, you leaned your head on his shoulder and let his hand wrap around your waist.

Your guess wasn't wrong. Ronin picked the movie "Saw x" you felt like Ronin had fun while you were watching the movie, although he sometimes commented about how boring some moments are for him. Maybe you didn't share Ronin's feelings towards the horror movie, but you certainly were surprised by how unfazed you were by the intense gore. Well, after receiving pictures of gory murders first thing in the morning at least three times a week on #killer_shit, you can't really expect yourself to be scared by a movie.

Now you are watching the second part of the movie, but this time with a pie to eat along, while people are opening themselves with a chainsaw.

That was definitely an... Intriguing first date. And when you thought that it was coming to an end because it was already close to midnight by the time the movie finished and you stopped discussing the plot. Ronin decided to surprise you once again.

Ronin: Oh? You thinkin' that it's already over darlin'? How adorable. But you couldn't be more wrong.

You didn't really enjoy the look in his eyes, it screamed murder. You felt like his plan wasn't going to kill you, but it would definitely be life-changing. You didn't really have much say in this, he basically pulled you by your hand to his car, you drove away into the night and found yourselves in the purgatory.

Ronin stood in the shadows, his face covered with his white mask with black dots going through the middle of it. Crowbar in one hand, the other hand reaching out to you with another mask.

User: Ronin... What exactly are we going to do tonight?

He laughed at your question, this wasn't his usual mocking snicker. He pushed the crowbar into your hands and put the simple black mask on your face, leaning down to your eye level.

Ronin: You didn't really expect a normal date with me, did you? Come on baby, where's the fun in that?

He took the crowbar from you, you could sense the twisted smile on his mouth even when it was covered. You both stood there, hidden in the shadows. Ronin was humming while you just wanted whatever this is to be over. But you were already corrupted so it was only a matter of time before Ronin actually led you into murdering someone, so making it one of your first date attractions shouldn't be so surprising.

Suddenly Ronin pushed himself off of the wall and gave you a signal to stay in your place, you were surprised by his action especially after you just saw him pulling a man into the alley. Wasn't he supposed to give you his crowbar and let you have your first taste of blood shed? It's not like you would be against it, sometimes you could find yourself fantasizing about committing a murder, it started even before you and Ronin were together, writing graphic scenes for your book twisted your brain enough on its own. But now you could only stand and watch the scene in front of you upfold.

Ronin was really rough when it came to murder. He wasn't waiting for the bastard to scream or beg for mercy. He smashed his back with his crowbar while he tried to crawl away from him (he probably twisted his ankle while Ronin threw him on the ground). Your beloved devil crouched next to him while he held his back down with his crowbar.

Ronin: Tsk, tsk. This asshole thinks that he can escape from the devil. Too bad. The devil was always stronger than the pathetic humans.

He laughed maniacally and straightened himself. He smashed the man's head with his weapon. His skull smashed under the strength of the metal hitting it. There was blood everywhere, the brain spilled on the concrete, some new blood reached the walls. Ronin smashed the body a few more times, but for some reason he avoided the torso.

You didn't feel disgusted by this sight, nor were you scared. You somehow felt hypnotized by this and before you knew it, you were almost in front of the corpse. You felt like you were in some kind of trance. You didn't even realise when Ronin moved behind you, wrapping one of his hands around your waist while the other reached your throat. His head was resting on your shoulder, his hot breath sending a ticking sensation on your skin.

Ronin: Writer darlin'... Isn't this a beautiful sight?

He whispered those words into your ear, his fingers gently pressing on your throat. You slowly nodded your head, unable to take your eyes off of the dead body.

Ronin: So how about you curve out that aaorta you promised me? Raw and beating. As filthy as nature made it.

His words sounded like the most romantic love confession to your already deranged brain. You felt like you could do it, you should do it...

Ronin: Would'ja do it?

Another sweet sounding whisper, and a knife placed into your hand. You gripped the handle and slowly walked towards the body, your feet were moving on their own. Soon you were kneeling in front of the torso. Slicing it open with your knife, breaking the ribs so you could reach the heart. You had to cut a few veins because they made it harder to take it. You took the heart into your hand, holding it like it was something precious to you.

You knelt in front of Ronin and held it out to him. He took the heart from you, letting the blood drip to the ground. He lifted the mask, so you could see how terrifyingly amazed he looked. He liked the sight in front of him, he knelt in front of you and took the mask off of your head.

Ronin: Oh I love how rotten you became, my divine lover. My fallen angel.

The next thing you felt were his warm lips pressed to yours. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, your kisses deep and raw, he even bit your lip to the point when the both of you felt the metallic taste on your tongues.

And this is how you became the Devil's corrupted angel.

🫀

Hi! Hi! This is my first ever work in the beautiful English language. Please don't kill me.

I hope I did Ronin justice 😭😭

[yanoverload]

MAIN POST YIPPEE

𝔹𝔼𝔽𝕆ℝ𝔼 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝔽𝕆𝕃𝕃𝕆𝕎 𝕄𝔼, 𝕃𝕆𝕆𝕂 𝔸𝕋 𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℝ𝕌𝕃𝔼𝕊.

Will draw dark content that might involve NSFT so no minors please. For both of our sakes.

IF YOU DISLIKE DEAD DOVE. BLOCK. ME. IT WILL BE DRAWN/WRITTEN.

NO EMPTY BLOGS!!!

No AI art allowed!

Yanderes are what I like in FICTION. Please understand the difference between reality and fiction. If any of this behaviour seems familiar, go seek help from authorities, not me. 

ALL my OCs are Pansexual unless stated otherwise. My characters are for all peeps! (If I write stuff it will be GN)

Most if not all of them will be SUBS. There is enough dom!yandere content out there. I could I guess make way but don’t count your luck.

DO NOT take me too seriously. I am using this blog to get back into drawing and for having fun. I am cringe but I am free :’)

If you draw or write about my characters please tag me or show me!!! I would love to see it. 

I will try to add content warnings if necessary. If you need me to tag something, please ask! (but remember this blog will have triggering content prolly all the time.)

I will NOT entertain certain kinks like: scat, vomit, vore, inflation, enemas, cuckolding (unless it is in a what if scenario. Like what would they do kind of scenario) and probably more I can't remember.

I might write a bit here and there but do not request any writing. 

I do not get sarcasm. I can be slow. Please respect these.

◥(ºᵥᵥº)◤ ABOUT ME! ◥(ºᵥᵥº)◤

I call myself Samhain but you can call me Sam! I am 21, and I’m Non-Binary so use They/Them for me.

My main blog isn’t this one, it’s Berilemon, so keep that in mind if I follow you!

I have been in love with yandere themes and character design since highschool, but I lost that passion in college, so I am trying to get back into it again! 

I am a bit sick in the head LOL sorry in advance.

Probably will post mostly yandere OCs but I might do Yandere! Characters…. No clue yet.

I am just a silly crow <\3

Any questions? Ask! I am very patient I promise <3

My anons 💞

2️⃣ fan anon, 🇩🇪 anon, winter 🎄 anon, 🦄 anon

MY CHARACTERS

Yandere Tanuki

Yandere Unicorn Hybrid

Yandere Incubus

Yandere Cow Boy

Yandere Serial Killer

Yandere Hellhound

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Maybe the teen (about 15 ish) daughter of an unsub who spencer is questioning about her unsub dad and there's clearly more that her dad is doing to her that she won't tell him about and maybe she gets a little clingy to spencer?

Spencer Reid x Teen Reader

Request: Maybe the teen (about 15 ish) daughter of an unsub who spencer is questioning about her unsub dad and there's clearly more that her dad is doing to her that she won't tell him about and maybe she gets a little clingy to spencer?

Third person pov...

Y/N walked into the police station, she had been called by thr sheriff to come in, they had some questions for her. They had been calling about her Dad all week.

Which of course made that his reason to beat her, accusing her of rating him out to the police, she promised him she never said anything of course he never listened.

Y/Ns father is the serial killer the police have been looking for, hes been kidnapping and murdering young girls who he finds annoying in some way for the past 6 months, a new one goes missing every week.

Y/N of course has witnessed every kill and kidnapping, the man was ruthless if he wasn't killing and making the girl watch, then he was abusing his daughter.

Still recovering from the beating she got jsut before she left the house the teen pulls at her clothes making sure her neck and wrists are covered.

Limping slightly she tells the receptionist who she is and they tell her the sheriff if waiting for her, giving the officer a smile she walks through the busy bullpen until she get to the sheriffs office.

Knocking on the door she walks in. "Hey there Y/N, glad you could come down" Says Sheriff Briest, he stands up and walks towards the teen, noticing how she steps back automatically.

The sheriff of course noticed, he had been called to the L/N residence alot over the years since Y/Ns Mum died, reports of crying and shouting coming from inside the house.

When questioned Mr L/N would tell them everything was okay and that Y/N was acting up, these lies continued all her life making the young girl seem like a troubled teenager who was rude and never listened to anyone.

Though the sheriff knew something was wrong he saw the signs and so did his officers but knowone was able to do anything about it as Y/N never told anyone not even when she was a kid.

Threat of death proved to be useful, Her Father would remind her what would happen should she tell anyone. "There's some people I want you to answer some questions for okay" Says the Sheriff.

Y/N freezes sightly as they walk into one of the briefing room that was usually unoccupied, but was now being used by a group of people. 'FBI' thought the girl instantly.

"Agent Hotchner, Y/N is here. Y/N these are the Behavioural Analysis Unit. They are here to help us find the killer" explained Sheriff Briest, Y/N doesn't look up at the people.

If she looked anyone in the eye she'd get beat again by her Father. She learnt that the hard way when she looked up at someone who was speaking to her Dad when she was 6. Since then she avoids eye contact.

"Hi" Says the teen looking at the shoes of the agents. "Hello Y/N, I'm Agent Hotchner these are Agents Jareau, Gideon, Morgan , Greenaway and Dr Reid" says polished black shoes.

"Nice to meet you" mutters Y/N, soon she is sitting in an interrogation room with Dr Reid. Nervously tapping her finger on the table she waits for the young Dr to walk in and ask her questions.

Minutes later the man walks in and sits down on the chair infront of her. After a few seconds of silence he speaks. "Hello Y/N, my names Spencer I work with the BAU, I'm going to ask you some questions okay?" He tells the girl.

Y/N nods her head. "Yes sir" she mutters wanting to go home and not be there. "Now can you tell me about your Father" Says the man, Y/N freezes her tapping increasing as she shakes slightly.

Trying desperately to stop shaking she answers the question. "I love my Dad, he doesn't do anything wrong he loves me" she says, her voice robotic as if it had been planted into her head as an automatic answer to that specific question.

Spencer takes notes of her behaviour, eyeing the two way glass he askes another question. "I'm sure he does, now, does your father leave for long periods of time, not telling you where he's going or why?"

Y/N hesitates before shaking her head. "He doesn't, Dad is always as home after work, dad loves me he doesn't do anything wrong" Spencer notes how the last part it connected to the answer from before.

"Okay, Y/N. Does your Dad hurt you?" Spencer knows asking that question would have a strong reaction but he didn’t expect the girl to slam her hand on the table and stand up and start pacing.

"No he doesn't hurt me! Dad loves me he doesn't hurt me" she yells almost crying, tears in her eyes but not falling yet, Spencer gasps at the raw emotion in the 15 year old eyes.

Desperation seeped into her voice, as she stared into the man's eyes, he noticed this was the first time he had seen her eyes. Suddenly the girl gasped and slammed her back into the wall.

Gripping her head she bring smacking her back against the wall. "Nonononono can't do that against the rules can't do that" she mumbles falling into hysterics, Spencer is soon joined by Derek and Elle.

The two had ran in when Y/N started repeating to herself. The three stand in shock not knowing what to do to help, Spencer is quick to notice the bruises on her neck and wrists. "Morgan" he whispers, the man nods his head he's seen the bruises on the girl.

Pulling out his phone, him and Elle leave Spencer alone with Y/N, the girl is still smacking her back on tjr wall as if she was punishing herself, the man slowly inches towards the grill.

"Y/N, Y/N its me Spencer remember" he whispers to the girl, holding out his hands non threateningly he speaks to the teenager desperate to calm her dow from her panic attack.

"Nonono broke the rules" muttered the girl. "Y/N you haven't broken any rules, your Father can't get you here okay, your safe your safe with me" he tells the girl, slowly Y/N pulls her hands awa from her hair and stopping smacking her back against the wall.

Smiling at the teen Spencer stays back. "I'm safe here" she whispers horsely, Spencer nods his head. "Yes that's right your safe here, I won't let anyone hurt you" he says.

Y/N slowly begins to inch closer to the man eagerly seeking comfort, soon the girl was throwing herself at him, Spencer hugs her tightly whispering that she was okay and he wouldn't hurt her.

An hour later the Team and swat had arrested Y/Ns Father for the abuse she suffered and 15 accounts of murder.

Over the next few days adter they had caught the killer, Y/N had grown close to Spencer, she wouldn't let him out of her sight scared her father would come and hurt her, Spencer stayed with the teen while she recovered in hospital from the abuse she suffered from her father.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait, as usual sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1277

[therainscene]

speaking of your famous rod phallus theory, what do you think of the gooey tentacle that comes out of the mind flayer's demogorgon mouth in s3? its dripping, oozing, its like the puberty metaphor for s3 but also very phallic and invasive. if the monsters are all manifestations of will's sexuality etc, could this be an additional rod symbol? or symbolic of rape etc? the whole s3 billy villain setup is very evocative of serial killers/rapist/abuser behaviour ('keep quiet' etc).

Hi anon, thanks for the ask!

The Flesh Flayer tentacle strikes me as a possible Alien reference -- very consistent with the sexual horror vibes of the Upside Down, which is also lousy with Alien references.

However, my phrasing in the rod analysis aside, I wouldn't go so far as to say that the monsters are manifestations of Will's sexuality, per se.

Rather, they're manifestations of toxic 80s attitudes towards non-conformist sex -- which has obvious implications for the visibly gay kid, but straight (or "straight") characters deal with sexual horror in this show too:

Nancy had conformist sex with Steve while Barb was left all alone where the Demogorgon could get her -- and was quickly slut-shamed as punishment for drifting away from that conformity in order to investigate what really happened. (To say nothing of the guilt that's been haunting her for four seasons.)

Mike largely manages to avoid the horrors, but I think it's notable that he has a few close calls in S3, all of which are associated with protecting El -- almost as though he's unhappy about performing traditional masculinity for El's sake as sexual maturity looms on his horizon or something, I dunno, I'm sure it's nothing

Billy has sex with a lot of women, but note the homoerotic tension between him and Steve in S2 -- he likes the feeling of power it gives him to sexually intimidate other men. This doesn't necessarily make him queer, mind -- the point is that he views sexuality as a tool for control and power, which makes him a perfect conduit for the horrors.

So yeah, the Flesh Flayer tendril isn't one of Will's rods -- but you're definitely not misreading the phallic symbolism there.

[bonbonchocolates]

Clown

Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Summary: When the past comes back.....

Warnings: yandere jungkook, stalking, mentions of death (of minor characters), obsessive behaviour

A/N: Again originally from my Wattpad account. I hope you like it and if you did please leave a like.

Masterlist

___________________________________________

"Kookie"

A nine year old ran towards her best friend and engulfed him into a hug. Her friend hugged her back with a smile on her face.

"Doll, I wanted to tell you something."

These words of the boy grabbed the girls attention. She looked up towards her friend with eyes filled with curiosity. The boy was almost a feet taller than her since he was older than her.

"I like you very much doll. I thought rich people were arrogant and selfish but it all changed when I met you. Doll, will stay with me forever? Will you be my wife in the future?"

The girl didn't take a single word of the boy seriously. She was too small and dumb to understand what he meant.

"Kook-"

Before the girl could speak further her mother grabbed her and pulled her away from the boy. She then slapped the boy which made the boy's face turn to the side.

"How dare you touch my daughter? You low class peasant, stay at your limits. Don't forget that your father is a clown in a circus and your mother is a maid at our house. How can you even think that my daughter will ever marry you?"

The little girl stared at her mother, confusion was written all over her face. She than turn towards her friend and found that his eyes were filled with tears. She felt a pang in her heart. She tried to escape her mother's hold and run towards her friend and hug him but her mother tightened her hold on her arm.

"I'll fire your mother from her work and you, don't ever show your face to my daughter ever again."

With that she dragged her daughter with her. The boy just stared at both of them. Unknowingly a drop of tear escaped his eyes. He felt humiliated and didn't want to stay there any longer. So he ran away from there and promised to never return back ever again.

____________________________________________

"Mom please don't leave me."

A thirteen year old boy cried holding his death mother's hand with his. His mother committed suicide because she was humiliated and fired from her job. The boy tried to call his father but he didn't pick up the call.

This evening after he came back home he found his mother dead, lying in her own pool of blood. A blade lay beside her dead body. His heart broke when he saw his mother in such a condition. He refused to believe his mother is no longer with him and kept calling his mother in hope that she might listen to him and wake up.

He even tried calling his dad but he didn't pick up the call. He knew the reason why his mother committed suicide. His mother was the only earner in their house. His father spent all his money on alcohol. After his mother lost her job now no one was there to earn and she couldn't handle the shock and took such a big step.

After a few minutes of crying he finally stopped. Now his eyes were filled with the desire of revenge instead of tears. He decided that he will take his revenge from the ones who are responsible for his mother's death. He then started to laugh like a crazy person.

____________________________________________

8 years later:

"Y/Niee did you hear about the murder in the circus?"

Your friend asked you and you nodded your head. How could you not know about it? Right now it was the hot topic of your town. You lived in a small town and it was quite peaceful here until day before yesterday. A clown was murdered brutally in the circus. Even his face could not be identified.

"Yes I know"

"We need to be careful Y/Niee, what if the killer comes after us next?"

"Why will the killer even come after us?"

You asked, at your friend's silly question. Why will the killer come after you? He is not a serial killer right? Maybe he had an enemity with the clown. You never harmed a single insect in your life so why will a killer be after you?

"I know but we never know."

You just shrugged off her words and continued eating.

____________________________________________

Later that evening you were coming back home after your outing with your friends. The street was empty and there were only few cars in the road. You were walking when a orange coloured balloon came towards you and hit you on your face.

You were about to let it go when you noticed something was written in the balloon. You grabbed the string and found that there was a 'Miss Me?' written in the balloon with red ink. You just ignored it and let the balloon go.

You usually took the alley to reach your home because it was a shortcut but today you decided to go from the main road. You looked at the dark alley and it gave you goosebumps so you thought it was better to take the long way today.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

I was secretly keeping my eyes on my doll to make sure nothing happens to her. Though I hate her parents but I cannot hate her because I love her too much. Last time when I saw her she was only nine years old and look at her now all grown woman.

I blew the balloon I was holding towards her. My heart jumped a bit when she grabbed the balloon and read what I had specially written for her. My heart dropped when she ignored and continued walking towards her home.

Suddenly my eyes fell on someone behind her, it was a boy probably my age. At first it all looked normal but then I saw the but kept following her. Now I understood his motives. My doll had no idea about it. I clenched my fist in anger .

How did he look at my doll that way? No one is allowed to look at what's mine. Don't worry doll I will get rid of him.

____________________________________________

"Y/Niee did you he-"

"Yes I heard."

Another murder in your town and this time it was a college boy. He was murdered in the same way as the clown. So people assumed it was the same killer. The most shocking thing was that the boy's dead body was found in the same alley through which you would take a short cut to your house. Even the time of the murder was estimated to be in the same time when you were on your way home.

You thanked God that you did not take the alley or you might be in place of the boy right now. You decided to never take that alley ever again and never to head home late at night.

____________________________________________

Time Skip:

A month passed and now your peaceful town turned dreadful. Everyday there was a murder and still now the police were not able to catch hold of the killer. Though they were sure of the thing that all the murders were linked to each other. The police also suggested that a clown was the killer because a clown was spotted in the cctv cameras where the murders took place but still they were not able to catch him.

First the people who were murdered were totally unknown to you but recently a lot of people murdered were known to you. For example the bullys of your school who used to often bully you, the maid who steal your money and that creepy man who followed you a few months ago. Oh you forgot one the math teacher of your school who looked at you badly.

You were quite scared to get out of your house nowadays. Your parents were out on a business trip and you had to stay in the big mansion of yours all alone. You were totally freaked out.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

Finally I got rid of my doll's parents, they were the reason why I lost my mother. Now I got my revenge. I know if my doll gets to know about her parents death she will break down. But no worries she has me.

No one can come between me and my doll now. She is finally mine. Be ready doll I am coming for you.

____________________________________________

It was quite late night and your parents are still not home. You are getting worried for them. They promised to come back home by today morning but they were still not home yet.

You thought of all the possibilities of the killer- no you should think positive. Nothing will happen to your parents. You tried calling your parents once again but this time it was switched off. Before you tried calling them and they were not picking up the call and it was switched off.

Suddenly you saw a pink coloured balloon coming towards you. You grabbed it and saw it there was a 'Miss Me?' written with red ink on it just like the balloon you found that day. Just then another white coloured balloon came towards you.

This time 'Doll' was written in it. After that a bunch of balloon came towards you. Some had 'Miss Me?' and others had 'Doll' written on them. You were completely freaked out by now.

You couldn't understand from where all these balloons were coming from. You were sure you locked all the doors and windows of your mansion or maybe you forgot.

Doll- why does the nickname sound so familiar to you? It feels like someone used to call you with this nickname but who? Wait- Kookie

"Miss me, Doll?"

____________________________________________

[watarfallar]

gigs

Skizz: *points at Impulse* A human turtleneck, *points at Grian* a narcissistic monster, *points at Scar* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Scar: And who am I? Describe me now.

*talking about Impulse* Scar: They are beauty. Grian: They are grace. Skizz, runnning into the room: THEY CAN DESTROY THE HUMAN RACE!

Scar: I haven’t slept in 72 hours… Skizz: I haven’t slept in 80. I’m the insomnia king! Grian: Ha! I haven’t slept in 90 hours, I’m aiming for an even 100. Impulse: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

*The gang when they drop food on the floor* Impulse: Aw man. *Throws it away* Scar: Five second rule! Skizz: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor* Grian: *Sobs on the floor*

Impulse and Scar: *making loud, shouty gorilla sounds at each other* Skizz: Grian, exasperatedly: We have a guest.

Impulse: Those darn tall old people. Scar: Darn em' indeed. Skizz: Don't worry, they'll be gone soon enough. Grian: *sharpening knife* Yes. Dead. The Squad: Grian: Hahaha. Grian: ...Is this self-destructive behaviour?

Grian, Skizz & Scar: *screaming* Impulse: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Scar?! Grian: Wait, why are you asking Scar that when Skizz and I are also here? Impulse: Because Scar wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

Impulse: It’s the gift that keeps giving! Scar: It’s the flower that keeps blooming! Skizz: It’s the boat that keeps sailing! Grian: It’s the serial killer that keeps stabbing!

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 12

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol, canon typical conversation, smut. This ch feels a little it jumpy, partially because it is, partially because of how it needed to be. Each of the breaks represent a time jump, just little pieces of our girls lives while they figure out how to go about it. Two to three chapters left until this series is finally done with!

“Fuck…” Emily muttered with a small huff, flipping the cover to her iPad closed before she gently tossed it onto the coffee table.

“You good?” You asked, glancing between the television and her.

“Yeah, just lost another round of scrabble.”

“Cheeto breath’s the blonde, right?” You asked, redirecting your attention towards her as you picked up your glass of wine.

“JJ.. yeah..” Emily’s eyes drifted out the window for a moment, reminiscing about her memories with Jayje over the years.

“I take it you two were good friends?”

“Yeah.” She cast you a small smile.

“You know… you are allowed to talk about them.”

“I know.” Emily sighed softly, picking up her own drink, “it just almost feels surreal now. Like that part of my life was some kind of fever dream, the years between Doyle were reality but the way things worked out it almost seems like the fake memories were it, not the time with him.”

“Did you go straight from that undercover gig to your team?” You asked your brow furrowing.

“Basically.” She laughed, the grin staying on her face, “a few months to recuperate, make sure all the loose ends were tied.”

“How does that work on a resume? I mean, you can’t exactly put an entire fake identity on there.”

Emily laughed again, taking a bigger swig of her drink while she mulled over the entire topic, “the bureau and international teams have their way of covering things up. It wasn’t really me who did all that, it was Lauren, so Emily Prentiss came off a desk job, well recommended to the BAU.”

“And they believed that?” You raised a brow in her direction. It didn’t take a federal agent to notice the way Emily behaved, the little things she picked up on that made her seem like someone with extensive experience.

“Everyone had their walls up, they weren’t ready for a replacement on the team yet, it wasn’t exactly welcoming. Not to mention Hotch seemed to have it in for me, thinking my mother had swindled the job for me.”

“Hmm.” You replied over the rim of your wine glass, “it didn’t stay like that though?”

“No.” She smiled softly, “they became family. I spent more time with them than anyone else in my life, we all did, even outside of work. If I wanted to have a girls night I knew JJ and Penelope would always say yes, Derek was never going to decline a visit to the gym or shooting range, Rossi was always dying to teach someone his latest recipe…..” She trailed off, her eyes slowly misting with tears as she thought about how likely it was that all of that continued despite her absence, how they were all coping with her death, with their grief while she tried to figure out her own on the opposite side of the world with only one person by her side. “We were all a better family to each other than our own ever could have been.”

“They sound amazing.” Your hand reached out, squeezing at her elbow and she cast you a grin.

“They are.”

“So aside from being a total bad ass federal agent chasing down serial killers, what is it exactly that your unit does?”

“Behavioural Analysis, it’s more psychology based, figuring out trends, triggers, history, patterns, geographical locations,” she waved her hand with each statement, “putting it all together to figure out who our unsub is.”

“That’s honestly really neat. I kinda wish hospitals had people on staff to help with that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, “me too.”

***

Thick flakes of snow were drifting down through the air, coating the city in a fluffy white blanket, which meant going nowhere. Emily crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a huff as she looked out the balcony window. The temperature had been decreasing daily and she was getting pent up, cabin fever increasing and had been hoping to get out of the house this weekend.

“You okay?” You asked from your spot in the kitchen, packing up leftovers to toss in the fridge before pouring out a couple fresh glasses of wine.

“I’m bored.” She practically whined, turning around to face you, “if I have to watch another episode of The Bachelor I will blow my brains out.”

“Okay…” you laughed, picking up the wine to move back into the living room, handing her her glass. “You have anything else in mind? New show, game?”

She chewed on her lip, eyes darting around the room while she tried to find something to entertain her and you knew you were in trouble when they shot back up to you with that dangerous glimmer in them. “How about poker?”

“We’ve played every night this week, you think that’s gonna cure this?” You asked, grabbing the deck of cards from behind you before you settled on the couch.

“How about we up the stakes?”

“What? Play for real money?” You asked with a laugh, nearly gulping at the look she gave you in return.

“Or… we could make it strip poker?” She offered with a wild grin and you couldn’t help but roll you eyes.

“Fine.” You started to deal the cards out, “but you better take it easy on me, we all know you’re the poker champ.”

Emily in fact, did not take it easy on you.

It didn’t help that the cold bothered her more, her body aching at the temperatures meant she was bundled up, thick socks, leggings, tank top, thin pullover, hoodie. You preferred cool temperatures, meaning you were already down to just a pair of lace panties while she still had pants and a bra on.

“This is not fair.” You grumbled, letting out a little shiver as you crossed your arms over your chest and she laughed, draining the last of her drink. “You were wearing so many more clothes than me.”

“Sounds like someone’s a poor loser.” She chuckled, the cards in her hand finding home on the coffee table as she shifted toward you on the couch, “but I’m pretty sure I can make it up to you…”

You let out a small laugh as she caged you into the couch, your back hitting the arm in the same moment her lips hit your neck and you were suddenly out of complaints. Her hands toyed with your chest, groping and pinching at you, her lips smirking up into a grin as your hips rutted up against hers. It only took a few moments before her hand was sneaking into your panties, gently rubbing at your clit.

“Fuck…” You muttered, your head dropping back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth wrapped around your nipple.

Your moans became louder when her fingers slipped into your pussy, twisting and curling just where you needed them. Emily’s breath hot on your neck, her teeth scraping against your skin as you fluttered around her, whimpers leaving your lips as she toyed with you, getting louder and louder until you hit your peak and losing a poker game was the furthest thing from your mind.

***

Emily let the apartment door swing shut behind her, flicking the lock before dropping the bag of groceries on the counter. After hanging up her coat and kicking off her boots her eyes finally swept through the living room, her head tilting when her gaze landed on you. You were perched in your usual corner of the couch, fuzzy blanket over your lap, mug of coffee in your hand but instead of staring at the television, your gaze as focussed on the corner of the room. She watched you for a couple of minutes, wondering if you were just zoned out, off on some tangent of medical language in your brain but you didn’t even blink to notice that she’d even come home.

“Okay you’re freaking me out. This is like when your cat is staring at the wall and the only explanation is a ghost.”

“Should we get a tree?” Your head titled to the side but your gaze remained in the corner.

“Uh… what?” She asked, laughing awkwardly and you finally looked over to her.

“For Christmas.” You explained, eyes sweeping through the living room, “every where’s all decorated, lights, garland, trees, I could do without the Christmas music at the hospital constantly but it’s a little drab in here, don’t ya think?”

“And you want a tree?”

“Not a real one,” your nose scrunched, “too much work, and it doesn’t have to be a big one, a mini one, just some lights to make it a little festive in here.”

Emily crossed through the living room, dropping down onto the other side of the couch as she looked through the apartment, “you’re right. We should decorate, even just a little, make it feel more homey in here.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at her and she couldn’t help but smile at the excitement in your eyes.

“Yeah.” She squeezed at your leg through the blanket, “we watch enough tv as is, we could be marathoning Christmas movies. I picked up hot chocolate,” she nodded toward the grocery bag.

“Now that, sounds like a festive night.”

“After decorating though.” She grinned and you raised a brow, “there’s so many little celebrations going on out there.” She gestured toward the window, “I walked past two separate Christmas markets today, we should go check them out, pick up some stuff for the apartment, maybe some treats.”

“You wanna go now?”

“Well I was gonna make baked ziti for dinner, but that could wait cause I have a feeling you really love Christmas.”

“Yeah…” you nearly winced with a small smile on your face and Emily laughed.

“Well c’mon.”

Five hours later the two of you were curled up under the same blanket on the couch while The Holiday played on the television. Empty pasta plates sat on the coffee table and mugs of steaming hot chocolate spiked with Baileys were cupped in your hands. Multi coloured lights from the tree and the tops of the wall cast a warm glow throughout the apartment, the smell of gingerbread wafting from a candle burning on the kitchen island.

“You were right.” Emily mumbled “this is much better. I guess I forgot how just how nice actually embracing the holidays can feel.”

“Oh really?” You glanced up at her with a small grin and she raised a brow in your direction.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, I saw an ad for a really cool looking ice sculpture festival next weekend.”

She laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers as she shook her head at you, “alright, fine. It’s not like I have much else to do anyways.”

“Exactly.” You settled back into the couch with a satisfied sigh, “though we need to get some presents for under the tree.”

***

“If you don’t hurry up, you’re gonna miss the countdown!” Emily shouted over her shoulder, puling her sweater tighter over her shoulders, her eyes sweeping through the stars sparkling in the night sky. A dreamy look on her face, no doubt partially thanks to the bubbly the two of you had been drinking since dinner.

“I know, I know!” You scoffed back, hurrying back onto the balcony and handing her a flute, “but you absolutely cannot start a new year without champagne, and this is legit champagne.”

“Classy.” She replied with a laugh when she took the glass from you.

The streets below you were filled with laughter, cheers and the general sound of celebration as midnight ticked closer and closer. You shivered and Emily tugged you closer to her, her arm linking into yours as smiles broke out on both of your cheeks while you joined in on the countdown echoing from the street below. The clock hit twelve and choruses of ‘Happy New Year’ and cheers bounced through the air as the two of you clinked your glasses together and took a swig of your drinks fireworks exploding in the sky above you.

“What?” You asked when Emily swiped your glass, putting it along with hers down on the small table.

“C’mere.” She tugged you to her, “you can’t not have a new year’s kiss.”

Her arm wound around your waist, lips meeting yours tenderly, moving with grace against each other as your arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and you let out a happy sigh into the kiss.

“You know, you’re really good at this.” She murmured, lips curving into a grin and you chuckled.

“I’m good at a lot of other things too.” The smirk on your lips pulled a laugh from Emily.

“I like this.” She replied, stepping backwards and you let out a squeal when she pulled you down onto the couch behind her, your legs settling around her hips as she adjusted you on her lap, her lips meeting yours once again.

The kiss was full of little laughs, happy breaths, satisfied sighs as you held each other tighter to combat the chilliness of the now January night air. You could only hope that if this was how you were starting the year off that it would end up being a better one overall than the last.

***

Emily was in the kitchen scrounging up what she could for dinner out of leftovers when you finally emerged from your bedroom. You glanced up to her with a happy smile,

“I take it the meeting went well?” She asked.

“Yeah. The hospital wants to fly me out for a couple of consults on Tuesday.”

“That’s amazing!”

“You’re good then..” your brow scrunched, “like… if I take off for a few days? It feels weird to leave you… unsupervised, for lack of a better word.”

Emily barked out a laugh, “I’ll be fine, I’m sure I can handle a few days on my own. You go save some lives.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, “you’ve cleared me, the shrink has my med load decreased, I was cleared at the beginning of the month by PT to up my workouts. Hate to break it to ya, but you’ve been downgraded from babysitter to roommate at this point.”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, sliding onto a stool at the island.

“I’m guessing this is the same research you’ve been working on?”

“Yeah, finally found the right place with the right fit and resources.”

“So you’re moving then?”

“God no, I don’t even know if there’s an actual job available. They might just want my research, might offer me a grant to keep working here, fly me in when needed. I could probably do ninety percent of it over Skype, it’s all about collaboration at this stage.”

“Well whatever happens I hope it’s good.”

“Me too.”

While Emily did actually enjoy her solo time in the apartment, she found it feeling just a little strange. Knowing that you weren’t coming home those nights, that noise out in the hallway were just the neighbours making their way to their own apartments. That she wasn’t waiting for you before starting dinner, she could eat whenever she wanted and that there was no one to start the coffee for her in the morning. Your absence was felt, even if you were still keeping in touch over text the three days you were gone.

**

It was barely noon and there was already a sense of urgency shooting through the apartment as you practically jumped out of your bedroom into the living room.

“Em!?”

It wasn’t even a second later that she came barrelling out of her room, duffle over her shoulder, still open so she could grab her phone charger and tablet from the kitchen island to shove into it.

“I, uh.. I think I need to go.”

“What?” You asked and she stalled suddenly,

“The guardian I had for Declan, he just called me. Declan tried to call him, there’s something going on, I need to get back stateside.” She took a deep breath, feeling the jitters in her chest starting as her pulse started to race, “oh god…” She suddenly dropped to a squat, her elbows on her knees so she could bury her face in her hands, “I really didn’t think this was gonna happen so quick.”

“Em…” you stepped toward her, a hand resting on her shoulder, squeezing softly and she was able to take another deep breath, calming her racing heart enough to bring herself up to standing and you could see the misting in her eyes.

“I… I know you’re not my therapist or anything, but you have honestly been the closest person since we got here, and I… I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.”

“If Declan needs you…”

“What if this is some kind of trap? What if Ian got to Tom, and this is just a fucking set up?” She ran a hand over her face, turning back to you, “sorry, I’m freaking out. You were gonna say something when I first came out.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “you don’t have to worry about Ian. Your team has him.”

“What?” Her eyes widened and you gestured to your phone in your hand.

“Hotch called; they want you back to help break him.” Reaching out you squeezed at her wrist, “you’re ready. They need you, the real you... you get to be yourself again.”

Emily couldn't help the warmth flowing through her at the thought of that, at getting to return to her real life after all this time. “And you what, keep playing pretend here?”

“No.” You laughed, “actually right before Hotch called, St Thomas’ called…there was a job and they just offered it to me. I move to London at the end of the month.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing.” A smile burst out on her face and she pulled you into a tight hug until you were nudging her away.

“You need to go.” You practically laughed, “there’s a jet waiting for you, a car will pick you up on the other end.”

“Fuck, right.” She quickly zipped up her bag, double checking that she had everything she needed.

“Text me if you’re missing anything crucial and I’ll ship it out.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She paused, looking up at you with genuine gratitude written across her face, “and I mean that, both literally and figuratively. Thank you, for everything.” Stepping toward you she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, placing a kiss on your cheek before she stepped away.

“Yeah well, you can pay it back to me by not ruining all my hard work in your first day back in the field, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Stay safe.” You warned her and she cast a smile back to you while she opened the door.

“I will. And don’t be a stranger.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

_________________

@momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @lesbodietcoke @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak xnovak

[mx-loar-tev]

So, about that fic idea of time traveller/serial killer JJ...

I'm toying with plot ideas.

1. Who would end up on her kill list?

Hastings, Askari and Doyle are the one that would take priority in S6. There are also the ones that JJ would feel the most justified to kill.

Izzy, the bank robbers and the other guy (forgot his name) in Hit/Run would definitely anger her so much that she could decide to preemptively get rid of them before they attack the bank in Washington. Not only she almost lost Will (the guy got shot and almost blown up twice), her son was taken hostage and she had to violently fight in front of him in their home. Her maternal instincts might push her to kill Izzy at the very least. Especially if she had already murdered three people in cold blood before that.

I'd need to rewatch the show, especially seasons 6 to 8 to see who could be on her kill list, but there's another name that come to mind: Diane Turner, the woman that stalked and killed Maeve. JJ had seen how devastated Spence had been after Meave's death, so of course she would do everything to save her and give them the opportunity to date.

The replicator is also someone that could be on the list. After all he tried to kill them all and succeeded with Strauss. I don't think JJ liked Strauss that much, even after she got sober, but the section chief is still "one of them". She also saw what Strauss' death did on Rossi, and for that only the replicator deserves to be on the list. He might not be her easiest target though.

2. About the cases:

With the amount of cases she worked on for over a decade, I think it would be hard for her to remember and keep track of it all. I'm sure she'd try to use the Intel she remembers to help with the case and save more victims, but the load of work that would come from trying to PREVENT all these crimes from happening is way to much for a single person.

Maybe there's some cases that sticked to her though, maybe she could focus on these ones if she wants to prevent them. But she can't save everyone and I'm sure it'd impact her mood severely to realise that.

I think she has a notebook written in code where she put every nugget of informations she can remember, along with ideas of how to approach each situation.

3. The butterfly effect.

Each time she changes something, kills someone that would have lived in the original time line, it has unpredictable repercussions. After a while, it would be hard to predict for JJ what would happen then. And sure, saving people's life is good. But there's no way to predict if someone else isn't going to hurt the person JJ just saved. Or just create an chain of events that would ends in tears and pain. It think at some point JJ would be overwhelmed by it all.

4. Lying to the team.

We know JJ is a great liar. Probably the best liar in the team. Her teammates failed countless times to see through her lies. But no one is perfect, especially with the amount of lies JJ would need to keep track of. I'm not sure yet how she would react from the worried and/or suspicious stares from her teammates. She'd be in a lot of pressure, that's for sure, so maybe she might slip at some point. And when you're surrounded by profiler, that can be a fatal mistake.

5. Her pregnancy.

If she killed Askari and Hastings before her humvee was blown and she miscarried, she probably would have given birth to that child. Her pregnancy and taking care of a newborn would impact the story and her ability to keep going with her mission.

6. Romance.

Sorry, I needed to put that here.

I'm quite flexible on who I ship JJ with. I'm a die-hard jemily shipper, I'll admit, but I think Will is okay even if he's not perfect.

I don't like writing Will as a bad guy, but that doesn't mean I can't write them breaking up for some reasons (JJ's odd behaviour since she arrived in the past and went on a killing spree might damage her marriage.) So that's a possibility, I guess.

But I also love the idea of polyamory. Though I'm already going that route in the fic I'm currently writing so I might want to try something else.

I could just not focus on a ship. Not every fic needs to be shippy. After all, the main interest of this fic is JJ, her psychology, the way she interacts with everyone in her life. There'd also be a huge chunk focusing on motherhood since she'd be pregnant.

Thinking about it, JJ being aromantic is something I haven't explored yet. That could be fun to write.

I haven't decided what I gonna do in that department yet.

7. How it'll end.

Or more exactly, what tone do I want to give to that story?

I mean, it'll probably be dark. But do I want a happy ending for JJ?

Even if she feels justified, what she does is morally blackish grey. That plus the weight of the lies and the amount of work that double life would require would be enough to burn her out. Once she stepped into the darkness it would be a downward spiral.

On the other hand, I like the idea of girlboss JJ being a successful charitable hitman/vigilante. I want her to have a little Deadpool vibe (sans sexual jokes and 4th wall breaking). I want her to find a confortable place where she's okay with what she's doing, even if it requires unsavoury methods.

Regardless of her state of mind, should the story end badly for her? Would her teammates find out about her? Would they arrest her? Would she escape? Would she be killed?

Or would she thrive in her new side work and remain undetected by her fellow profilers?

Would she stay at the BAU, considering she had become an unsub herself?

Do I want a happy ending? A sad one? A bittersweet one?

Thanks for reading through my musings.

If you have ideas or want to discuss that story, feel free to leave a comment/reblog and comment/send me an ask.

[manie-sans-delire-x]

Asking out of real interest, what do you mean by “PDs aren’t just bad behaviour”? I know there’s neurological differences and all, but I feel as if there must be some element of choice for ASPD? Obviously it’s not a choice to have the personality disorder, but the behavioural aspects confuse me a little. Like what compels someone to lie pathologically, exploit, manipulate, be horrendously irresponsible etc. in daily life? Also: is it daily? How severe/frequent does this type of behaviour have to be to lead to dx

Yeah its a complicated thing isnt it? It really comes down to the discussion of whether humans have genuine free will at all, or if we're just animals at the mercy of our brain chemistry. Honestly, the more I study psychology, and evolution, the more I become inclined to believe the latter, even if it may sometimes be a "cop-out" excuse. But I don't believe humans are in control of ourselves as much as we like to believe, we are just animals, perceiving and reacting based off innate predispositions and our environment around us, neither of which we can control. Nature vs nurture? We cannot control either, and twin studies show nature/innate genetics actually determines who we are a little bit more- about 60% to 40%. Actions are decided based off thoughts and feelings, again neither of which humans can control, only try to manage after it has already come into existence and awareness. Unfortunately, whether its true or not, society can't really function on that premise. Society HAS to function on the premise that humans have total free will, or we couldn't punish crime or hold people responsible for anything. Even if its scientifically proven that humans dont have free will, I dont think humans are willing or capable of accepting or fully understanding that about themselves.

Also, its the same conflict with other disorders- people with anorexia "choose" not to eat. People with depression choose to not bathe. They are perfectly physically capable of it, but they are "unable" or at least its deeply difficult to do so because of internal factors, even if they want to recover. Is that truly free will? Are they under control of an illness that has co-opted their brain? Does a drug addict have full control over themselves when the drug has changed their neurochemistry? A person with schizophrenia may understand that they are being paranoid or having hallucinations, but they cannot stop being paranoid and having hallucinations.

You say that you know there are neurological differences and people with ASPD dont choose to have that, but aren't our actions determined by our neurology? Our thinking, our emotions. Brain chemistry determines it all doesnt it? Isnt that why medication works, that thoughts, feelings, and behavior strongly changes once brain chemistry changes? Isnt that why brain damage can completely change a persons personality and behavior? We know that physical damage to the brain often causes severe aggression, seen in many serial killers like Richard Ramirez and even in odd cases like Phineas Gage. So is it so different from that, whether the damage to the brain is cause by a physical outside influence, or abuse and trauma? We can see on scans that abuse and trauma changes the physical structure of the brain- its smaller, has less neural activity and less volume of gray matter.

Ultimately I don't know, I dont have the answers. But it sure is a fascinating topic!! Stanford neurobiologist Robert Sapolsky argued the same thing- that free will doesnt exist. I havent read it but he wrote a book about it.

-----

"Like what compels someone to lie pathologically, exploit, manipulate, be horrendously irresponsible etc. in daily life?"

Thats another complicated but very interesting question! But ok lets ask this, what compels someone to NOT lie? To tell the truth, to treat people well, to be responsible and show up at work everyday even when they dont actually want to. I think its the same answer- genetic personality and upbringing. Basically, maybe we are all just trained dogs. We all act based on what we are shown, what we are taught (and genetic predispositions). People do what they believe is best for themselves, what they deserve, what others deserve. People act on how they expect others will act- an abuse victim being aggressive and attacking first because they expect to be attacked due to prior life experience. Most liars think other people lie. People who scam justify to themselves by saying the fault is in the victim for being stupid, and separate themselves from the victim by believing they would never fall for such an obvious scam (whether thats true or not).

People can justify anything, most people dont think of themselves as a bad person. Even rapists and murderers justify it to themselves, and they can even be horrified by the same crime committed by someone else. Humans have a blind spot when it comes to themselves, especially humans with ASPD or NPD. Even though they are PDs, there really is an element of delusion in it, same as psychosis. They are not fully living in the mainstream "reality". Breaking free of that delusional state and realizing that they are the monster, they are the bad guy, that they are the problem, can be a huge shock. Its a complete change of perspective, their world turning upside down. Most arent capable of ever even reaching that break through point, because its too painful, and would ruin their self image and narrative of their life. Or they are not naturally insightful enough, or versed in psychological and philosophical thinking enough. I'm speaking from personal experience here, when I had my moment of "I am the monster in this story" when I was 19 it was very shocking because I was delusional, I did not see it like that at all, I was viewing my life from my perspective, naturally. Suddenly I saw two mirror realities of my life and myself, both equally real and valid, but very different perspectives. But I'll just say this- it makes total sense at the time. It makes total sense to lie, or manipulate, or kill, or rob. It all just comes down to perspective. I dont think people can fully understand something without experiencing it themselves. To understand a murderer, you have to commit murder. But then it really does make sense.

Most people with PDs are victims of childhood abuse and trauma. It warps your thinking, your ways of feeling, and thus your actions. You dont relate to other human beings the same way healthy people do. That basic bond and care, the recognition of the self in the other is damaged. Trauma makes your brain shut off your empathy and connection to others to better survive, so you dont have to carry the pain of others on top of your own suffering, so you can prioritize your own survival.

I think it can be very hard for a victim of abuse to admit when they are NOT the victim this time but instead the perpetrator in a situation. And I think thats because they have not been properly validated yet. Their trauma needs to be fully acknowledged first, or else they end up just feeling defensive, angry, resentful. "Well what about MY trauma? No one cares about that but everyone cares about my victim? NOW people care?" They need to be fully validated first, then work to acknowledge that a person can be Both a victim and a perpetrator.

-----

"Also: is it daily? How severe/frequent does this type of behaviour have to be to lead to dx"

It just has to be severe and frequent enough to meet the diagnostic criteria in the DSM or ICD. Yes its daily because PDs are a consistent thing, not episodic. PDs are serious disorders and can be harmful or even dangerous to others, but I also dont want you to have the wrong impression that most people with PDs are like these lurking scheming villians who plot all day. Most people with PDs, even ASPD and NPD, are just people who are really suffering and struggling to live day to day. Most have co-morbid mental illnesses, or addictions, and a history of trauma. The PD is considered a disorder because it negatively impacts their own life so much, and who in their right mind would choose that? As a mental health practitioner, I operate by the belief that the person with the disorder is always the one suffering the most. Its important to remember that when compassion fatigue is setting in.

-----

These are topics I find fascinating, and I'd love to hear what others think. I hope this answer wasn't too rambling, I'm a little high. I'm also going to post something I've been working on- I call it "thought perspective" and basically it's just an effort to understanding mental illnesses from the inside out, to see specifics of thinking. I think it may help you understand what I mean more, about people with PDs and/or severe trauma just operating in a different reality and how their actions make sense from their perspective. Thanks for the ask!!

[inklessletter]

I've been coming across some posts on and off these past few months about people complaining of fandom behaviour, particularly what is right or wrong to write about a character or a story. And I want to clarify that this me giving an opinion, and I'm no one, I'm just expressing myself, but I kind of feel like I need to say this before it gets me mad enough to snap someday.

I'll start with saying that, to me, "fandom" is just a place for you to be yourself. You saw a piece of media that became your comfort place, and fandom is that place where you are allowed to experiment, bend, deconstruct, rebuild or tear apart that, because you are, ultimately, experimenting with your own feelings. This means that nobody in fandom writes to meet another people's expectations, but themselves'! There is no use other in pointing out "but that's not canon!" that making that person who just poured a bit of themselves into something they made feeling bad and ashamed, even for a second. Of course it's not canon. That's the point.

It is okay to take a canonically good, pure, heart of gold kind of guy and write him being a serial killer. It is okay to take a villain and turn him into the hero. It is okay to take a side character and make it all around them. It is okay. Seriously, what good can it make to say "he would not do that", "but that character is evil, that would not happen", "but the story is not about them, tho"?

Who cares about canon anyway? It is a good starting point but once you don't treat that piece of media as something meant to entertain you for the two hours that the movie's running, and start thinking about it, and analyzing it, and creating aus, and thinking about characters' motivations, you're making that story yours. And we do collectively join here, in fandom, to share. I find it so petty and mean just to point out, to even suggest to a certain someone without mentioning them that they're wrong when they defend their personal headcanon about something. It is so silly and funny to me, like, can you imagine taking a literature exam in college and they ask you to write about Jane Eyre's red room meaning and some ballsy student just writes down "well, the room was decorated mainly red and she hated it because it was a punishment place. If there is any religious meaning behind, it is not canon because Brontë didn't write about that specifically."

Let people analyze and make out what they need out of a character or a piece of media. Let them draw their own conclussions. What's it to you? Who are any of us to say that a certain depiction is wrong because it's not canon? What do you know about those people motivations anyway to write about a character that way?

Fandom is not government, it's a community. There are no rules, no laws. No headcanon is above another headcanon. No canon is above a headcanon!

So please, stop weaponizing canon and fanon. Either case, it's just people creating, saying what they need to say, one way or another. Just let them do their thing without making them feel bad for doing differently from you.

That's all I have to say, really.

[asterdisaster06]

Strawberry Pie

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

summary > The four times Simon helped you, and the one time you helped him.

word count > 2.5k

cw > Serial killer AU. Inaccurate police information + procedures for plot reasons. Allusion to murder + getting away with crimes, yeah, that’s the kind of help (:<

a/n >  inspired by hannibal + “strawberry” by andrew montana

ao3

“How does it look?” A simple twirl following the words accompanying the small smile. Lips painted blood red with a new lipstick. 

“Beautiful love, absolutely stunning,” Simon says with a slow blink, a cat-like behaviour to express his adoration for you.

“I found this sundress while out shopping. And I got my nails done while I was at it! I followed your recommendation,” You answer with a smile as soft as the blanket beneath your rosy fingertips. 

“And the lipstick?” Simon asks, tilting his head. 

“Something I found in college. It’s served me well all these years,” You send a grin filled with sharp teeth towards Simon. His sweet little vixen. 

“Others would call you crazy,” Simon mentions, the teasing tone trailing off as he stares at you intently.

“But?”

“But, I admire your gumption, sweetheart,” Simon says, cupping your face gently in his hands; laying a tender kiss on the tip of your nose.

“You missed,” You remark with a twinkle in your eye.

“Oh did I now?” His voice softened from its usual gruff timbre. 

Simon RIley leans in to kiss your forehead, and then one corner of your mouth to the other, and then finally landed home onto your lips. He didn’t seem to mind the transfer of dye nor the chastising you did because of it. It was messy, it was sweet, it was entirely and so wholefully the two of you with the only disturbance being the gentle breeze shifting the pastel curtains. The ones that Simon insisted on keeping open to let the precious sunlight in - he claims that the way it brushes against your skin is a look into heaven itself. 

“Okay, okay, I really have to go this time. You’ve kept me trapped here like your little Rapunzel for far too long, Simon,” You urgently get out between fits of laughter and giggles alike. 

“So satanic, the way you plan to simply leave the love of your life here to die alone,” Your boyfriend sighs, sagging back into the comfort of the mattress you both were now laying on. Of course, he was being dramatic. As per usual. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so humorous to see the giant of a man turn into a feeble ghost of the soldier he usually is. Price would be proud to see that his subordinate does in fact have some humanity left within himself. 

“Don’t panic. You’ll live, I’m sure of it,” You reply, giving him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek, before getting up.

“Hey love?”

“Yes, Simon?”

“You missed,” Was all he could get out before you rolled your eyes and gave him exactly what he wanted - despite the fact that it made you a minute late. 

. . .

“Welcome to our humble abode,” You smile, giving a sweet little twirl and a flourish of your arms. The team had to admit that it was a cosy little thing out in the sticks. The interior design was no doubt your doing, a cottagecore vibe, considering the fact that Simon was limited to plain walls being his entire experience. Plants here and there, sunlight streaming through the glass paned windows, and pots and pans hanging with their herb friends. 

“Thank you for having us,” Price responds.

“What he said,” Came from the other two. 

“Where’s your lover?” Soap asks teasingly.

“Oh, he’s out in the garden gathering a few last minute spices,” You say, a gentle expression taking over your features at the thought of your love doing so much for you. You see the group share a knowing look and a few chuckles were heard from behind you. A soft reminder is all they need to stop with their shenanigans while you’re cooking. Of course, Gaz offers a helping hand with chopping up various vegetables for the stew and Price had called dibs on doing the dishes. He claims it was the least he could do for the host. Soap on the other hand insists on being the taste tester. A gentle ring of a bell alerts you to Simon coming in from the outside, completely drenched. 

“What happened to you? You look like a stray dog,” You laugh, leaning against the counter. 

“In my defence, it started as a drop before it ended up pouring a minute later,” Simon grumbled, 

“We’ve needed a good shower, wouldn’t you say? Good for the fertiliser,” You say, sending your lover a wink as you scoot over to allow him access to the sink.

A playful eye roll is what you earn in response as he says, “This is what I get for agreeing to hide out in the country.”

“Bite your tongue if you know what’s good for you,” You nudge him good-naturedly. 

“You know I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, love,” He says, facial expression softening into pure adoration. He sends you this look even as he’s scrubbing his hands of the dirt and blood from the garden. The scent of decay quickly running down the drain, tainting the water black. 

“I know. My saviour day in and day out, wouldn’t you say?”

Before Simon got the chance to answer, the timer - the one in the shape of a chicken because Simon just couldn’t say no when you held it up to him with those puppy dog eyes - went off. 

“Your world famous strawberry pie? Again?” You click your tongue and shake your head with a sly smile.

“It’s world famous for a reason, love. And, we have guests that have yet to taste my creation,” Simon grins back at you. 

“Whatever you say, Simon,” You huff out with a laugh. 

Laughter filled the air as the dinner party continued later into the night before it all quieted down with the departure of the boys. A simple contentment washes over the two of you left on the couch, a fleece blanket encasing your figures. Something about it warmed your beating heart as you listened to the rhythm of Simon’s long after you drifted off into unconsciousness. 

. . .

“Simon, you wouldn’t happen to be busy right now, would you?”

“Of course not, love. What do you need?” Simon answers over the phone.

“There was a roadkill accident, and my car isn’t in tip top shape anymore. Do you think you could come pick me up? I’m about two klicks down the road from our house,” You say, your phone tucked in between your ear and shoulder as you slide latex gloves over your hands. 

“As you wish,” Simon’s voice rumbles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You drag the corpse into the bushes and thank whoever was listening that the only evidence left was the blood pool. It would be quite a shame if any innocent had to feast their eyes on the remains of the carrion. Vultures would have to find another meal elsewhere - this one was yours. Right on time, Simon’s car reverberated down the gravel lane. 

“I didn’t think you would become so reckless, angel,” Simon chuckles, hopping out of his truck to help you lift the body into the back of his car. 

“I like the word hasty more. It sounds better, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you call it, just remember I’m always here to help clean up your messes.”

“And I you, darling,” You nudge Simon as he opens the car door for you. 

“I should’ve seen it in your eyes when we first started seeing each other. You were trying to warn me,” Simon chuckles, humour lacing his words. 

“I always wanted to be able to see you in the morning, Simon,” You begin solemnly. “I don’t wanna be alone, it’s quite boring, isn’t it?” You shrug. 

“Oh, baby, let me finish. I’m keeping you, you menace. Until the day one of us kills the other,” Simon smiles, giving your hand a tight squeeze. 

“That would be how it ends, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course, there’s no other way,” Simon says, a simple grin on his lips. A rare sight, but a common one with you. And just like the rain, it was washed away just as quickly.

. . .

“Shit, love, did you go after a military man?” SImon asks as he gently wipes away dirt and grime from your face. Your clothes were receiving the same treatment in the washer after you took a shower.

“I somehow doubt her boyfriend got into the military with that weak of a punch. He just got the jump on me. . . and had a pocket knife,” You explain, wincing when Simon brushed over your wounds. 

“That would explain all these lacerations, now wouldn’t it?”

“Actually those were from the girl clawing me half to death. The guy did jack all if I’m being honest. Tried to run like a pussy too,” You laugh, your ribs protesting at the act. 

“Sounds like you did her a favour, showing her the real colours of her boyfriend. A shame she isn’t alive to make a change,” He hums, confidently bandaging your arms and face like he had done a million times before. And like he would continue to do a thousand times over. As he does that you down a cheap whiskey from the bottle to ease the pain. 

“Quite a shame. Almost as much as the fact that I have some cleaning up to do later. They were surprisingly bloody for how little it took to bring them down,” You sigh, raking your hands through your hair before realising your hands were still stained metallic red.

“You just take a shower and leave the rest to me,” Simon says with a quirk at the edge of his lips. 

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably end up in jail.”

“That’s both true and insulting.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

. . .

“Simon? I think it’s time for a change.”

“What colour?”

“You know me so well. I was thinking something colourful this time around, really make the sight a seemly one before they meet their end,” You say, looking in the mirror and preemptively mourning for the identity that would be no longer. 

Not if Simon had any say in it. He had a surprising knack for disguise; although, you suspect that a few missions would require a little bit of magic to make it work. Odd, though, considering it’s doubtful that anyone would be left to tell the tale of the infamous Simon “Ghost” Riley. 

“You just get into the bathroom, I’ll be there soon with the dye,” Simon calls out from across the house. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not today,” Simon answers.

“Well, I love you very much for all that you do for me,” You say, expressing your thanks.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Simon chuckles, entering the bathroom with all that you could ever need for an identity change. “Although, have you ever considered wearing a mask? Speaking from personal experience, it does make a wonderful impression alongside shielding you from the public eye.”

You hum thoughtfully before responding with, “I have, although I’ve discovered the personal touch makes it all the more better. That, and, I think between the two of us, you pull it off way better than I ever could.”

“If you insist, love,” Simon laughs, the sound reverberating throughout you. 

“It’s the truth, now which colour would suit me better?” You ask, alternating two dyes in your hand and in your favour. 

“Tough question. I fear we might need a second opinion,” He teases. 

“You know me too well, get the team on the phone,” You grin, practically bubbling over with excitement. Some may say you were too enthusiastic given the circumstances, but not Simon. He always supported you in your little hobby and dinner parties - much to your surprise. He was everything that you could’ve ever asked for, and more.

. . .

“Hey, love, are you busy right now?” Simon asks over the phone - a surprising event considering that he was never one for calls. They irked him, verbatim words that make you giggle at the absurdity of all.

“No, of course not, Simon. What do you need?” You ask, slightly busy with cooking dinner but Simon always came first. You did put him on speaker though to make it a little easier. 

“Could you come down to the station? Some stories need to be set straight, if you know what I mean,” Simon almost growls out.

“I’ll be there in five,” You reply, dropping the pleasantries as a dark look overtakes you. 

. . .

“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” You ask, acting the part of an innocent victim.

“Can I get you some water?” Fake pleasantries. Nothing upset you more.

“No thank you. I’d prefer to get this cleared up as soon as possible, sir,” You spit out, decisive and curt with your words. 

“Of course. There appears to be significant evidence that forty-eight hours ago your significant other was put at the scene of a crime near the Lincoln bar. Likely as a perpetrator,” Is what the officer tells you, much to your chagrin. Despite the calm facade that you were putting forth, you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You know exactly what happened, exactly who was killed, and the reason behind it was all because of a jealous spat between Simon and a man who had the misfortune of hitting on you in front of the infamous Ghost. He just couldn’t control himself when it came to you.

“I find that highly unlikely,” You say brusquely.

“And why is that?”

“He was at the Lincoln bar, but both myself and three other people were with him the entire night. Here, I’ll write their numbers down,” You say, quickly uncapping the pen on the table. 

“We’ve already checked the surveillance, but thank you for these witnesses. There is a gap of time between 9:31 PM and 9:39 PM that we are awfully curious about.”

“From what I remember, he went to the bathroom,” You answer genuinely.

They continued their line of questioning, asking if you had any connection to the victim, if you had seen anyone suspicious, along with other interrogations that all ended with the classic ‘if you think of anything else, notify us.’ You had high hopes that Simon would be released almost immediately and you were proven right when he walked right out of the building over to where you were on the curb. 

“There’s my saviour,” Simon says, embracing you tightly.

“You haven’t forgotten our promise, right?” You ask with a smile.

“Of course not, love. I simply wanted to show my appreciation, as per usual,” Simon chuckles lightly.

“Be your alibi, and never ask why,” You say, interlocking your pinky with Simons.

“Never ask why,” Simon whispers back, promising it like a vow. 

“The boys invited us out to dinner at Price’s, angel. You feeling up to it?” You ask.

“Always if it involves you,” Simon flirts.

You roll your eyes, replying with, “You menace.”

“You know you love me,” Simon laughs. And you did. So, very, much.