#{ He's just... more in control of himself. Probably because the experiment to turn him dulled pretty much all his emotions but anger. }

[estrellami-1]

I got a challenge for you with the writing prompts 👀 use 16, 17 AND 18 together. (Steddie, obviously)

16. "Excuse you?"

17. "This is all your fault!"

18. "I shouldn't be in love with you."

You’re choice on who says what 😌 (also doesn’t have to end happy, but we do love our angst w/happy endings)

Ooh I love this!!! I hope you didn’t necessarily mean in order, because, well… you’ll see. 😉

Dustin’s face is red. There are tears streaking down his face. Steve’s heart breaks as he reaches for Dustin and gets pushed away.

“This is all your fault!” Dustin screams, and Steve feels his fractured heart break irreparably.

“What?” He whispers, unable to believe he had heard correctly.

“It’s your fault!” Dustin insists, still crying. “If you hadn’t said what you did, Eddie would still be alive!”

Somehow, Steve’s heart breaks more. “Dustin-”

“No!” Dustin yells, pushing Steve away once more. “Just- just leave me alone!” He turns away, and no amount of pleading makes him turn back.

Steve leaves. Doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s at the cemetery, sitting in front of Eddie’s headstone. His body isn’t here; it’s still in the Upside Down somewhere. Steve will never forgive himself for that. He thinks, distantly, that he’s numb, in shock.

A dull laugh tears its way out of his throat. “He said it’s my fault,” he says. “Dustin, that is.” His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. “Said if I hadn’t said what I did, you’d still be alive. I hope- God, I hope that isn’t true. I don’t know what I’d do if it is. And I know he’s just looking for someone to blame, he’s grieving, I get that, but… it hurt. Y’know? Cause I thought we were past all that… that bullshit. Of thinking I’m still King Steve. Of thinking I’m not good enough, no matter what I do. Of thinking it’s not tearing me apart.” He shakes his head. Vaguely realizes he’s crying. “I just… God, I feel so stupid saying this, but… if there’s any way… just. Give me some sort of sign. Let me move on, at least. Let me be strong for everyone else still grieving you.”

He waits a few minutes, not terribly hopeful, but waxing more disappointed as the time passes. “I’m, uh. I’m choosing to believe there’s nothing you can do, instead of thinking you can’t hear me or something. I’m gonna come back, I swear. I dunno about the kids, but I know you love- um. You loved them. And you’d want to know how they’re doing. So I’ll at least tell you about them.”

Another minute passes as he wrestles his emotions under control, wiping the last errant tears from his eyes. “Same time next week?” He asks, imagining Eddie would grin and wink at him, say something like, “As long as you’re paying!”

With that thought, Steve stands and leaves.

He’s back next week. Says, as soon as he sits down, “Dustin’s not mad at me anymore, so that’s something. I think Claudia probably talked some sense into him. He’s just kinda… listless, now. Will too. I think, uh. I think he was hoping to talk to you. I dunno…” he sighs, tries to organize his thoughts. “I’m safe. That’s first of all. So if you are… it’s fine. Robin showed me a zine she brought back from a trip to Indy. Apparently the handkerchief means something. I didn’t know that until, like, three days ago. And it’s not that Will’s gonna start putting a hanky in one of his back pockets, but… I’ve seen the way he looks at Mike, y’know? And I wish I could help but I’ve got no experience with guys. Robin would be willing, but…” he chuckles. “She’s strictly into boobies. Which is kind of an inside joke, for us. Y’know she came out to me in a Starcourt bathroom while we were high off our asses with Russian truth serum? That’s one of the apocalypses we helped avert. Well, the Russians themselves weren’t the apocalypse. There was… well. It’s a whole thing. Billy Hargrove, remember him? He got mind-controlled. I hit him with a car because he was gonna kill Nance and them. He was fine, it wasn’t really him, y’know? Then he sacrificed himself. I’ve seen Max cry twice in the time that I’ve known her. She didn’t even cry when she sprained her ankle trying to land a flip. But she cried then. God, she was inconsolable. And he sacrificed himself for her. I think, for a while, she wished it had been her, instead of him.” He sighs, stands, smiles wanly at Eddie’s name. “Edmund, huh?”

He imagines Eddie’s smirk. “No relation to the Pevensies,” he’d say with a wink and a bow, “though I, too, came out of a closet.”

So it goes, week after week, month after month. The days get shorter and colder, then longer and warmer.

“Will came to me a few days ago,” he whispers one spring day. “Scared outta his mind. But he did it, and he was so brave, and I told him what I could.” He manages a smirk. “And it turns out we’re not too different after all. I’ve been… thinking, recently. And talking to Robin, and man, that was a trip. Turns out the normal, straight amount of flirting with the guys is zero. I don’t think I’m the only one to blame, though, because thinking back on it, Tommy got really close sometimes, before we fell out, and Billy had that whole… thing going on, which I honestly figured was just California bully, but it turns out no, they probably weren’t straight either. Which. That took me a few days to digest. So I’ve been thinking about it and I think I just… never let myself like guys? But I definitely like both. I just always went with girls ‘cause that’s what was expected, y’know? So that was a lot to process. It’s still a lot to process, honestly. But I’m getting there? Or I think I am. I at least had something to tell Will, so. There’s that.” He chuckles. “Y’know you’re the third person I told? Will was second. Robin was first, though she kinda told me, instead of the other way around. Sometimes I dunno what I’d do without her. Most times, actually, I dunno what I’d do without her.”

He thinks about Eddie’s grin, the tilt of his jaw. “Welcome to the club.” He’d probably bow. It feels like something he’d bow about. “We have nothing for you because America is a capitalist pigsty and we are all naught but its pawns.”

Steve leaves.

The weeks pass. He returns faithfully, like clockwork.

“It’s been a year,” he whispers one day. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to make it. You were supposed to run, goddammit, why didn’t you run?” He bends in half as the tears come, burying his face in his knees. “Damn you,” he hisses. “This is all your fault, y’know that? I don’t even know how, but I’m in love with a dead man. Do you hear me, Eddie Munson? A dead man! I shouldn’t be in love with you!” He sobs for a few minutes, then forces himself upright. “And the worst part is I’m not even mad at you. Not really. I just- God, why can’t you be here? Why didn’t you run?”

Footsteps behind him. He stiffens, but doesn’t move until he hears the voice, vaguely amused. “Excuse you,” he says, and Steve whips around to find Eddie Munson staring back at him. “I did run. Or I tried. Those fuckers are fast, man.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, drying his tears. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating.”

Hallucination-Eddie kneels beside him, wipes tears from Steve’s cheeks. “Could a hallucination touch you?” He whispers.

Steve stares for a minute before the dam breaks and he’s falling into Eddie, sobbing. “I know,” Eddie murmurs. “I know. I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation, I definitely did die. I just… didn’t stay dead.” He runs a hand over Steve’s back. “And if it’s any consolation, I was able to hear every one-sided conversation. I appreciate the updates on the kids. And, uh.” He swallows. “I’m pretty sure somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, too.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

#hope this is angst enough for you #honestly? #I hope you cry #that means I did my job right #stranger things #eventual steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #briefly #writing prompts #prompt 16 #prompt 17 #prompt 18 #this was a lot of fun!!! #thank you friend ❤️ #starambles

[thisfairytalegonebad]

Flare - Whumptober day 14

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Character: Noctis Lucis Caelum Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

Noct got lucky, all things considered. Lucky he was born as the Crown Prince, with immediate access to medical attention from the best doctors in the country. Lucky his father shied away from neither cost nor effort to ensure that in addition to the scientific approach, he also got treated by the Oracle, Queen Sylva of Tenebrae herself.

If he were anyone else, he would have never walked again.

This is what he’s been told many times, by doctors, politicians, journalists, even his own father. Lucky, they call him, and he supposes he sees where they’re coming from, but it’s still kind of a stupid thing to say - it’s not like he’s had any control over any of it.

Right now, he doesn’t feel very lucky at all.

Waking up is always a chore, his internal clock’s factory settings are just running a few hours behind and he’s used to that. He hates getting up in the morning, hates how tired he is all day, and hates that this is the case no matter how early he goes to bed.

Today, the moment he sluggishly blinks his eyes open, it’s not tiredness that makes him want to curl up and die. No, it’s the dull ache in his back that spikes into blinding agony the moment he tries to move, and in his half-awake state, he can’t hold back a high-pitched whine.

Even if he wanted to get up, he’s not sure he could. If he had to guess, he’d say probably not, and that’s speaking from experience. It’s far from the first time this has happened, but it’s been months, nearly a year since the last time so he’s almost forgotten how much it hurts.

It’s a Wednesday, he’s supposed to get up for school, and even though he woke up before his alarm this morning - which in itself should’ve made him suspicious - it’s already light out so it’s probably almost time.

He knows he should get his phone, check the time, turn off his alarm and maybe call Ignis, tell him he doesn’t need to bother picking him up for school today - there’s no way he can go like this, he can’t even move - but he simply can’t work up the willpower to twist enough to actually grab it.

So he just lies there for a while, simply existing, and when his alarm finally does go off he tries to turn it off, but moving sends sharp bolts of pain down his spine, and his phone’s all the way on the nightstand and it hurts so much he can’t manage to reach it.

The alarm blares for what feels like hours while Noct grits his teeth and resigns himself to the fact that he’s going to find out how long it’ll go on before turning off automatically.

He doesn’t get to find out, because it’s still blaring next to his ear when his door opens and Ignis steps inside, clearly intending to wake him up.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when Noct makes eye contact, which is fair, Noct usually doesn’t even see as far as the door yet when Ignis comes to kick him out of bed.

“Your alarm is going off,” Ignis points out helpfully, then frowns and comes to stand next to the bed when he realises Noct isn’t making any move to turn it off. “Is everything alright?”

“Back hurts,” Noct tells him curtly. Pain makes him crabby and he isn’t in the mood for pleasantries. Ignis will understand, he always does.

“I see,” Ignis says, bending down to turn off the alarm himself. “I’ll call the school, let them know. Do you wish to sleep some more?”

He does, but he doesn’t think he can with his current levels of pain. The dull ache he felt right after waking up has been slowly increasing to the point where it’s impossible to ignore, even without moving.

“Painkillers first, I think.”

“Of course.” Ignis saunters out of the room and returns within a minute with a glass of water and the painkillers.

“No water,” Noct quickly says, because he’s not sitting up enough to not spill water all over himself and he’s definitely not about to get into a position where he can comfortably drink.

He takes the pills from Ignis and swallows them dry, then closes his eyes and waits for them to kick in so he can go back to sleep.

----

When he wakes again, his curtains are drawn - Ignis’ doing, Noct always leaves them open at night so he can see the moon and stars when it’s clear out - and his back still hurts, but the painkillers haven’t quite worn off yet so he’s actually able to sit up somewhat and grab his phone.

It’s late morning and he’s got a bunch of texts from Prompto, concerned but not panicked, so apparently Ignis filled him in. He quickly answers them then puts his phone away and faces an uncomfortable truth: he really, really needs to pee.

Slowly, painstakingly, he turns in bed until his legs hang over the edge, and then he has to stop and take a few deep breaths in anticipation of the pain before he actually pushes himself to his feet.

Even when it’s expected, the pain is enough to take his breath away for a moment, but when it subsides to a more bearable level, he thinks he might be able to make it to the bathroom that’s attached to his bedroom, but when he goes to take the first step, his confidence falters.

If it were just the pain in his back, he thinks he could power through it long enough to shuffle to the bathroom, but his leg feels weak and unstable and he doesn’t really want to risk falling, so after a moment of hesitation, he sucks it up and calls for Ignis.

Ignis, of course, shows up within seconds and is by his side even faster than that.

“Do you want to lean on me?” he asks without preamble, bless him. For all his fussiness, Noct is really glad Ignis knows him well enough to figure out what he needs right now without panicking over him or asking him loads of stupid questions.

“Yeah,” he says and lets Ignis take most of his weight as he slowly, painstakingly limps to the bathroom.

While he’s in there, he also uses the opportunity to quickly brush his teeth because he is not getting up again after this.

When he comes back out, Ignis is there to support him back to the bed, and by the time he’s lying back down he kind of wants to cry with pain and exhaustion and just general misery.

“Do you need anything else?” Ignis asks, hovering by the door.

Noct is about to decline when he reconsiders. “My tablet?”

Might as well entertain himself if he's going to be stuck in bed all day.

----

The day passes in an uncomfortable blur of pain and sleep and boredom, with Noct alternating between dozing and watching mindless videos on his tablet, but by late afternoon, he can’t stand it anymore.

It’s been long enough for him to safely take another dose of painkillers, so he pops some pills into his mouth, and when Ignis comes to check on him the next time, he asks to be taken to the living room.

“Can we watch a movie?” he half-begs as Ignis helps him make his way out of his room and onto the couch.

Ignis hesitates for a moment, long enough for familiar guilt to well up in Noct’s chest - Ignis is so busy all the time, of course he doesn’t have time to watch a movie with Noct, it’s bad enough he’s been stuck babysitting him all day - but then smiles at him, soft and gentle, and says, “Of course, Noct.”

His back is on fire by the time he’s deposited on the couch, legs across Ignis’ lap, but the change of scenery is worth it.

Ignis lets him pick the movie because of course he does, so he picks a childhood favourite of his. It's an animated movie that he remembers Specs liking too when they were kids, hoping that it'll make up for his now messed up schedule a little

At first, Ignis has his laptop on Noct’s legs, working quietly while glancing at the TV screen and occasionally making a comment about the movie, but by the time the movie reaches its climax, he shuts the laptop and just watches.

It’s nice, in a way. Noct’s still hurting and he knows from experience that he’ll be out of commission for the rest of the week, he’s still in for a few days of agony, and after that, he’ll have to take up physical therapy with Gladio again, but he also gets to spend some downtime with Ignis for the first time in forever, and that, at least, makes it all bearable.

----

Read all of my Whumptober prompt fills here.

#whumptober2023 #no.14 #flare #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fic #thisfairytalegonebad's writing #noctis lucis caelum

[realhankmccoy]

the most interesting thing about Christina has become that i've realised she's more of a Christcuck than i ever knew. That's why she's on this projection kick about how she fears the Christcuck is me...

but it's so evident that it's projection and that her use of language when 'sexually' excited is Christcuck stuff. Christ is widely advertised to be The King of Kings too, which is what she likes to see herself as when she gets in her royalist modes.

huh.

i guess the most interesting things about her are always what she's oblivious to. it's just funny to me that somebody wouldn't know how they themselves tick. none of the Trump 5 do, though. I know them far better than they know themselves,

and they know almost nothing about me because they are only able to think of me in Trumpian bias and Trumpian anxieties about what 'left of center' does to people.

my dad at this point thinks being left of center just totally fried me and turned me into an utterly useless turd. he really cucked himself that hard to my brother (who wants him dead) and my brother cucked himself to Trump

it really is a lot of idiots like that improvising as part of

well,

as part of Trump's toejam

which is what they reduced themselves to and you'd better believe i don't want to be tastin' that with my tongue

but it is good for a sort of surreal laugh and strange experience to observe. it's gotten to be much like observing Hieronymous Bosch's visions of hell to me -- these people's lives and these people's agendas and these people's prescriptions for trying to cuck us all for their Gawddaddy Trump, who is actually the Master of the Seven Deadly Sins in the way they'll never be, quite actually the closest thing America has ever had to Satan as a president. I don't say that with a scream... to me it's dull, though I probably should be feeling a scream. I don't though, I dunno

is my inability to scream at Trump being Satan and having cucked America a sign of

1 ) me being a pretty brave and stalwart hero (not *the hero* but just one of many) 2) me being somewhat cucked by Trump myself?

i think it's number 1, but i think just as Frodo had those moments in which the One Ring would control him, so do most people and myself as well

it is, after all, Biblical that one needs to say 'and lead us not into temptation' and Trump, i suppose, is a temptation --

the temptation of easy answers. when i'm susceptible to Trump is when i'm feeble, i know that much. of course, the Trump 4 are 100x more feeble than me and that is why they're 100x more susceptible.

#trump #hieronymous bosch #mommie dearest #bosch

[squadrah]

From My CuriousCat

"I'm kinda confused. Where can I read the Illegally Blond AU? I'm interested!"

Unfortunately you cannot find this one anywhere except for the private chats between a good friend and I... Basically I pitched the idea to them one day and we have been talking about it ever since and are deeply in love with it, but have not written a single word for it. It's one of those things that is so developed by now through countless discussions and musings that I wish God would just beam it out of our heads straight onto Ao3.

I will attempt a summary here of the most important aspects:

It starts with pre-transition, so far in the closet he has no idea this is indeed the closet Prosciutto and your regular Illuso, meeting each other in university as different majors (Prosciutto studies law, Illuso studies marketing). It's young love, each seeing the best or most desirable side of the other and not knowing about some major issues (both have Stands but never reveal this to the other for reasons), so they marry after graduation, and soon they have their first child together, Ghiaccio.

The marriage and raising their baby starts out well enough, but over time the Illuso/Prosciutto relationship starts souring. Illuso has some more insecurities and issues that Prosciutto doesn't know about, and because Illuso is anxious about being more successful, more prominent, more on top in the relationship, he starts leaving his already stressed and burdened spouse to his own devices in everything, and playing 5d chess for the title of best parent while often only joining in the spoiling of Ghiaccio and leaving Prosciutto with the harder work of nursing and unpleasant experiences. His stress is starting to leave Prosciutto impaired via The Grateful Dead (he is losing his sense of taste due to his nerves often getting dulled by his Stand on purpose so he doesn't just choke out his husband instead, so his cooking skill plummet, etc.) And on top of this, Ghiaccio gets his Stand very early, so these two are also staring each other down like "Holy shit, it must be from my side, does he realize that... what do I do?"

Eventually it is getting really out of control with Ghiaccio having to go to a child psychologist while still in elementary school, and Prosciutto likewise going to therapy but in secret because he doesn't want Ghiaccio to feel alone in this, and then discovers he himself has issues he never considered. He suggests transitioning to Illuso, who then panics because this is something he himself didn't consider as a possibility and he doesn't know how to feel about it, so to gain time he pitches the idea that he'd like to have one more child, in the hopes that this will somehow fix the marriage and Prosciutto, etc. So they have one more... except it's such a rough pregnancy that Prosciutto spends about half of it in the hospital, apparently slowly dying from a severe iron deficiency complicating things, and it's a miracle that Risotto is delivered safely and Prosciutto survives. It's probably the roughest period they had so far, but because Illuso is panicking about losing his spouse, he is actually putting a lot of effort in, and it turns into almost like a second honeymoon when the danger is finally over.

Except Risotto also gains his Stand very early, and Illuso is not over any of his issues, and Prosciutto is equally steeped in his, and Ghiaccio is almost at his limit, and then a freak accident occurs. One day, unguarded, little Risotto finds his dad's secret laptop where Illuso has been typing up a bajillion AITA posts over the years trying to convince himself that he is not, in fact, the asshole - all of his marriage and child rearing has been on that thing through stories, 100% of those stories had him receive the title of asshole. He is so infamous that he has his own bestowed nickname and if he ever defends someone on the forum, that person is almost certain to see the error of their way and apologize. This is Illuso's one outlet, and little Risotto's magnetism sticks the secret laptop on his back, ruining it. Prosciutto then comes home to Illuso ranting and raving about their hellspawn in his fit of rage, and Prosciutto, who has no idea what is going on, finally fucking snaps, decks Illuso, and tells him to get out. He even packs for his husband and tosses the suitcase at him, and for the first time Illuso's Stand comes out like, "Hey, this is my apartment too! I'm not going anywhere!" ...At least until Prosciutto's like "You wanna bet...?" and brings out his own Stand. Illuso leaves immediately, and Prosciutto is left to console himself and his kids as best he can while Illuso crashes at Melone's place, who is an old acquaintance and half intrigued, half entertained by Illuso's regular brand of bullshit.

A divorce soon follows, and Prosciutto starts frequenting the café Formaggio works at as a barista, because Prosciutto as a lawyer has been doing a lot of paperwork for the owners - Doppio/Diavolo, and his daughter Trish. Formaggio had seen him before, coming in to do paperwork pre-transition and all, and has been crushing on Prosciutto for a while, but being a fuckboy and feeling he was out of the other's league anyway, he never made a move, and then managed to cheer up Prosciutto one time after a divorce hearing, and that started things rolling. They later start dating and eventually get married as Formaggio works himself into the esteem and the tenderness of Prosciutto and his children, and Illuso eventually marries Melone, who manages to iron him out some and channel his energies in better directions... and while all this is going on, Sorbet and Gelato were also there, Sorbet working at the company Illuso works for, and Gelato working at the law firm Prosciutto is at, so they are also interwoven as colleagues and friends and unofficial grandparents to Ghiaccio and Risotto. They never married, but after they see two marriages in a row, with all the buildup they know to exist, they finally tie the knot and retire to just take it easy for the rest of their lives, hehe. Oh, and Pesci also works at the café under Formaggio, and has been rooting for everyone's happiness. In turn he is a cherished family friend. There are also others about, but that is even more on the sidelines.

Basically it is a fun parents and kids slice of life AU has everything: fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, trans!Prosciutto, so much character analysis and development, babies and toddles with Stands, slow burn, second springs, all the good stuff in the world. Mannn, I still wish God would just beam it out of our heads. I tried downloading the chats from Twitter but Twitter sucks at making DMs accessible, so I probably didn't get all of it...

#risotto nero #formaggio #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #illuso #sorbet #gelato #squadrah AUs #squadrah original

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

Long ramble about an alter under cut, mentions some violent things in dreams but I really tried to hold back on details

I'm pretty sure most of my dreams are just a special dream alter at this point. Like. He's so separate from us (the waking Maws). He even has like a separate character development. But there are some dreams where it's not him. Those are the dreams when we don't know we're dreaming, usually. He always knows. He doesn't discover it and often doesn't think about it. He just knows the same way I know I'm on Earth. It's assumed, it goes without saying, he doesn't think about it, it just is and he knows.

One traumatic experience in our childhood was the near constant nightmares, waking up in fear every night, eventually not trusting real life because What If I'm Dreaming And Any Second The World Could Turn On Me? I guess it would make sense that one of us would end up in the dream world to protect us. He learned to control dreams, he learned to wake us from within dreams, he learned that nothing was ever real and the only harm that could come to him was emotional and that no one he ever knew was real or would exist for more than one night.

I remember early nightmares when we would try to save bystanders. He learned that was impossible and pointless. Nowadays, he is just tired. He is forced to play along with dream plots despite knowing it's all meaningless. He dislikes all other characters in dreams because they either want to kill him or are so beneath him and too dull to recognize his power. He's immortal and can bend reality to his will. sometimes he tries to show someone but they never realize he's more than an ordinary human. He hates when the plot requires him to cooperate with them. He takes any opportunity to ignore the plot to just for a moment catch a break and do something he likes. Usually that involves doing something that would kill any mortal, it's kinda like how humans take drugs that would kill other species.

It took us really long to realize he even knew he lived in dreams. We thought he just assumed he had superpowers without knowing why until one night he hesitated to make out with a random super villain thinking "wait waking Maws wouldn't do this... well good thing I'm not him" and when we remembered that after waking up it started to dawn on us that he knows and he probably knew all along, he just never explicitly thought about it so we couldn't remember.

Dream Maws has really only been happy in two dreams. Many months ago he met Klarion the Witchboy and it was the first time that someone recognized him as more than a mortal. It was still someone trying to kill him, but unlike anything he'd fought before, this one was intrigued when he did not die. Then he was taken to a different dimension to be studied and it was basically discount Hell but like not that bad and they had a festival and ok long story short they ended up kinda homoerotically dancing as everyone was singing a cheerful song about torture and Dream Maws was waiting for Klarion to stab him in the back or something, because nothing was ever good to him, he must be trying to get him to drop his guard. He grew impatient and started dropping his guard just to get it over with, even in the dance falling off a bridge thinking surely he wouldn't be caught, but next he found himself safely in Klarion's arms and the dance continued. For a moment then, Dream Maws let his guard down emotionally too and just let himself enjoy it.

A while later, Klarion returned, now with Dream Maws as his sidekick/henchperson and... I'm pretty sure Dream Maws had a crush on him. He wasn't respected and Klarion seemingly did not remember who he was and kept telling anyone who asked something random like "oh he's my pet octopus I found him in a volcano!" Eventually, Klarion decided to kill Dream Maws for fun by slicing him in half lengthwise and leaving him for dead in space. This of course did not kill him but Klarion forgot about that. He also forgot his important magical sword thingy. Dream Maws very much did not care that Klarion thought so little of him. Dream Maws was out of his mind high on being sliced in half and just euphorically floated in space for a while after Klarion vanished. Eventually, he pulled himself together (literally) and took the sword to bring it back to Klarion, hoping for maybe some recognition of his usefulness in both surviving and bringing the important sword back.

In both dreams, we sadly awoke to cut his joy short. I wish we could give him more, but he's the only one with any power over dreams. I can just try to really shove into our shared memories that the waking Maws think he's cool. No one he ever meets gives him any validation no matter what he does, but hopefully he can remember our message to him. You're valid, your powers are cool, you deserve to play with All the deadly weapons you want, and Klarion should kiss you if you want <3

#tw violence mention #Teeth dream #sfw #personal

[chronosbled]

Random facts about Dickson if he were ever to become a father because @etherux​​ got me rambling about it over Discord! The Resident Evil 8!AU will refer to Serin’s OC, Crystal, and the idea we discussed over both Tumblr and Discord.

- Canon Dickson ( All Resident Evil games // Excludes games where he’s still a child. )

Considering the fact he has a few children of his own with his wife in canon, Dickson is actually rather skilled when it comes to handling children throwing temper tantrums or children who are overly rambunctious during play time since he, himself, acts very much like an overgrown child. He will not hesitate to drop whatever he’s doing to play with them, even if he’s doing important work/research. 

Believe it or not, Dickson actually loves children even though he was never allowed to be around them during his own childhood. Though he does not love children in the same way that most do, instead he views children as being who are easy to manipulate or shape into whatever you like, and thus makes him desire to protect them (especially since he was used by his own grandfather).

Though despite loving children, he cannot handle toddlers and infants to save his life. Due to his inability to comprehend human emotions, he does not understand why infants cry when there is no sign of visible harm nor does he understand why it is that they cannot do most of the things children can do. He is extremely intelligent, but topics like these are beyond him, especially since he was never educated on the topic of infants.

While he is not good with infants, he can be taught how to handle them and how to figure out what it wants whenever it cries. Of course, this will take time, especially since infants actually somewhat scare him due to how unpredictable they are.

If left alone with an infant for too long, and it begins to cry for more than a few minutes, Dickson will do everything in his power to make it feel better. Though if he is unsuccessful, he will begin to somewhat have a breakdown of his own and grow desperate to comfort the infant. This is because of the trauma he has from his childhood after being trapped within a contaminated containment unit filled with his grandfather’s experiments, being left all alone no matter how much he cried and begged for his grandfather to come back — and even though it has nothing to do with said infant, his unstable mentality causes him to believe the infant will feel that same sort of turmoil.

Is very cautious of any of the baby’s needs.

Extremely paranoid of every little sound he hears because he thinks it’s the baby getting into trouble when it’s actually just a pesky little mouse chewing some cheese.

Often stays awake all night watching the baby sleep in case it ever stops moving or breathing, is especially careful if the infant/child rolls onto their stomach due to the fact he’s nervous they’ll suffocate.

He’s gonna totally be the type of dad that carries the baby bag everywhere just in case because he never knows when the baby will have a crisis. Also, did I mention that he’s gonna have the baby strapped to his chest in one of those baby carriers? Gonna be black so it matches his outfit.

Dad jokes.

Somehow doesn’t trip over any of the baby toys but manages to trip over himself when he’s doing literally nothing.

Tries desperately to understand the baby babble because it must mean something. It just has to.

Often passes out before the baby does due to being so tired from work and fatherhood, the baby ends up just contently laying against him before sleeping as well.

Tries the baby food in front of the baby in attempt to make it eat, always backfires. Tastes gross too.

Can’t figure out the mysteries of a child’s mindset, desperately tries to figure it out anyway only to either give himself a headache or confuse himself further.

Gets roped into tea parties sometimes.

Gives child a bubble bath and shows them tricks with the bubbles. Most of the bubbles end up on the floor and on him rather than in the bathtub by the end of it.

He often puts on something for the children to watch to keep them entertained, usually ends up getting distracted by said program as well. He’s got a short attention spam when there’s no other adults around.

Interested in anything children are interested in, especially if he’s never seen it before. Such as certain toys or games. He was never allowed to play with toys or games as a child after all.

Takes it upon himself to build or craft new things for the children to play with, doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll make it regardless.

Will use science to bring his children’s pet(s) back to life. The perks of having a mad scientist for a father.

- Resident Evil 8!AU Dickson ( Based off me and Serin’s discussion. )

At first Dickson would be somewhat against the idea of keeping Rosemary, but at the same time he wouldn’t want to just get rid of her after all of the things that were scarified (by both Ethan and the Four Lords) in trying to obtain her.

Due to the fact Dickson isn’t too fond of infants, mainly because he remembers how he felt about them in his human life, Dickson refuses to touch Rosemary all that often unless absolutely necessary.

In time though, he begins to grow curious about the infant and starts to approach her more often than he used to, usually being caught by Crystal and attempting to make up some kind of excuse as to why he’s giving her attention. Tsundere much?

Eventually, with Crystal’s help and constant reverse psychology, Dickson grows to be more comfortable with Rosemary and actively starts holding her and playing with her (though he’s still careful he doesn’t scratch or drop her).

Often times when he’s in werewolf form, makes sure that Rosemary is laid against his body and wraps his tail around her to make sure that she stays warm in the cold climate. He also doesn’t seem to mind when she decides to eat or pull his fur sometimes.

He’ll usually steal Rosemary away from her crib within the night, if she’s still awake, to play with her or take her for a night time stroll through the village. Just don’t fuck with him while he has her because he’ll fuck you up.

Is VERY protective of Rosemary when people start to show interest in her and they get too close. Often gets scolded by Crystal for killing them and leaving the bodies lying around. Totally doesn’t have one hidden under the table.

He often travels far distances both within and outside of the village to find new things that Rosemary can play with as she gets older. Be it dolls from the (now empty) Beneviento Estate, books from Mother Miranda’s (now abandoned) laboratory, stuffed animals found at other nearby establishments, and will even craft new pieces of furniture or other things via Heisenberg’s Factory. He’ll even go out and try to find her cute little baby clothes since the village doesn’t really have much.

Is very careful when handling Rosemary due to the fact he’s 6′8″/203 cm and she’s oh so tiny in his hands.

Dad Mode™️ is always active now.

Has a tendency to sprawl out on the floor with Rosemary whether or not he’s in werewolf form or his human form. He just wants to play with her already.

Often, carefully, squishes her cheeks because they’re so chubby and soft.

Greatly enjoys seeing Crystal in the garden tending to the flowers with Rosemary nearby, even if he does often have what appears to be a blank expression on his face. That’s just his default look, but Crystal knows when he’s happy.

Closely follows behind Crystal whenever she’s carrying Rosemary over her shoulder because he likes to wiggle his fingers at her to make her laugh only to act like he’s not doing anything when Crystal looks behind herself.

Has a tendency to be extremely loving and affectionate towards Rosemary whenever they’re alone, often blows on her belly and tells her she’s his “beautiful little angel”. Has a complete embarrassed breakdown when he gets caught by Crystal and hides afterwards.

Tries not to be loud when Rosemary is asleep so he doesn’t wake her up, sometimes still wakes her by accident, especially in werewolf form because his tail knocks things off of tables and shelves.

Sings to Rosemary when Crystal isn’t around to care for her. Doesn’t make it known that he can sing, but sometimes joins in when Crystal sings to Rosemary.

Chases after any ball Rosemary throws while in werewolf form, brings it back just for her to throw it again. Cycle repeats.

#☣ [ ' Eʋҽɾყσɳҽ Lσʋҽʂ A Vιʅʅαιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Dιƈƙʂσɳ Gҽɾαʅԃ Rҽɠιɳαʅԃ Sιɱɱσɳʂ ✡ #☣ [ ' Hαυɳƚҽԃ Ⴆყ ƚԋҽ ɯσɾԃʂ ყσυ ʅҽϝƚ υɳʂαιԃ. ' ] - ✡ Hҽαԃƈαɳσɳʂ ✡ #{ I can't believe I can't fully remember how many canon children Dickson has. I SHOULD REMEMBER. } #{ I think he has like... three or four? } #{ MUN OF VICTORIA IF YOU SEE THIS PLEASE FORGIVE ME. } #{ Okay but like... can we appreciate how loveable Dickson is as a dad? } #{ He loves to play with his children. Even if they aren't actually his. } #{ But can we take a moment to look at how RE8!AU Dickson is more affectionate and calm with babies than canon Dickson is? } #{ He's just... more in control of himself. Probably because the experiment to turn him dulled pretty much all his emotions but anger. } #{ Meanwhile canon Dickson can't do that because he can barely understand them to even attempt to do so. } #{ Somehow... RE8!AU Dickson feels more human than canon Dickson which is so strange because he's more of a monster in the RE8!AU. } #{ Regardless though he still does a lot of cute and funny things in both versions. } #{ Someone aside from his canon wife needs to make him a dad already. } #{ Do it. I dare you. } #{ Oh but only the people he's actually close to. } #{ Otherwise it won't work. } #{ Serin I tagged you in this because I figured you'd might like to read it since we gushed about them being parents. } #{ Will possible expand on this some more at some point. } #{ Depends honestly. } #☣ [ ' Tԋҽ σɳҽ ɯԋσ ʅҽαԃʂ Ⴆҽԋιɳԃ ƈʅσʂҽԃ ԃσσɾʂ. ' ] - ✡ Oυƚ σϝ Cԋαɾαƈƚҽɾ ✡

[dameronology]

rescuer {din djarin}

summary: din djarin rescued you - and then you rescued him {for @drinksomecoco !! i hope u enjoy}

warnings: brief mentions of torture, swearing

this is like....4k words?? it got a little out of hand, i won't lie to u.

- jazz xx

It wasn’t often that The Mandalorian found himself becoming attached to bounties.

Twice. He’d done it twice.

The first time, he swore to himself that it would be the last. Adopting his little green surrogate...frog? Son?

Okay, adopting his little green surrogate Grogu had brought enough tension into his life. It had gotten him back onto the radars of both the Empire and the New Republic; thrown him into some weird form of fatherhood that he wasn’t quite ready for and tipped his entire way of life upside down. Despite all that, he never stopped to question if all the exhaustion was more trouble than it was worth, because he loved his kid. Completely and entirely in ways that no parenting book or fairytale could ever quite describe. It was an intense form of love and attachment - and Din knew it was going to hurt when he would eventually have to return the Child to his own people. That was a little far off though, because he couldn’t investigate any further til he had the means to do so. Money and resources weren’t limitless and even The Mandalorian had to find means to an end.

Going back to the Bounty Hunter’s Guild wasn’t ideal, especially not with the kid in tow - but did he have any other way? Din didn’t know any other way of life, let alone another way of earning money. Besides, he figured it would only be a quick few months. A couple jobs here and there until he had enough in savings to travel far enough to find where Grogu really came from.

But it was two bounties; two bounties that he would find himself becoming attached to. Grogu was the only one.

It was through that decision to return to the Guild that Din Djarin would find himself stumbling across the next one. He was offered five pucks - the first four were easy. Standard jobs, really. Runaway criminals and Imps who had crossed people so many times that trying to work out their loyalty was head-ache inducing. He found them all in a matter of days, really. They were good at hiding but it didn’t count for much when The Mandalorian was good at finding.

Then there was you; the fifth puck. The one he thought was going to be the easiest.

Finding you wasn’t a problem. Tucked away in a corner of rural Tatooine - maybe twenty, twenty five minutes shy of Mos Eisley - you were hiding in plain sight. It would have been enough to protect you from anyone else but Din was an unrelenting expert in finding those who didn’t want to be found.

He never quite knew what to expect when he closed in on a bounty. Sometimes they ran and sometimes they hid. A few of them had tried to appeal to his humanity; to try and connect with the man they hoped was behind the mask. Because aside from the husky voice that occasionally escaped the helmet, there was no proof that The Mandalorian was anything other than a very convincing droid. That was, until, someone would lay a hand on his son or ship and suddenly, a wave of pure human rage would burst out from beneath the beskar.

You couldn’t have hidden from him or run away, even if you wanted to. Not because you were scared, but because you were chained up; wrists and ankles in shackles, keeping you tied to the walls of a filthy docking bay. From the sand piled around your feet, it was clear that you had tried to kick up a fuss at some point.

But based on the way that you looked at him - with tired eyes and a hopeless expression - that made Din realise: you’d lost the will to fight. He knew that you weren’t going to wriggle away or try to engage in combat.

“Are you…” The Mandalorian trailed off. “Are you alone?”

“Probably,” your eyes flicked up from the ground, unknowingly capturing his gaze. “I think I’ve been left for dead.”

He sighed. “I’m looking for a...Kan Durant. Is he here?”

“No,” you shot back. “He left me here for dead about a week ago. Probably knew that a bounty hunter was going to come after him at some point.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“I’m chained up,” you said. “Isn’t the answer to your question a little axiomatic?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “But if you know anything, it might be helpful.”

“Try Corellia,” you muttered.

Corellia. That was...doable. Not too far and not too hard to search. That would be his fifth and final puck and then Din could set off for the sunset in search of his kid’s home planet. That’s what this whole thing had been about.

But...you. You’d been left for dead - and based on the bruises around your eyes and on your limbs, that was the least of what you’d gone through recently. What kind of man would it make him if he left you? A fucking awful one, obviously, but what was he supposed to do?

Din slowly leant down, pulling a thin tool from his belt. He fiddled around with your cuffs for a moment, until there was a low hiss. They fell from your hands and onto the sandy ground - he expected you to get up, or to run, or do anything but sit there and stare at him with gaunt eyes. Maybe it was foolish of him to think that merely freeing you of your restraints was doing his part for the greater good.

“Is there anywhere around here where you can go?” he asked. “An inn? A cantina?”

You snorted. “No. I’ll die.”

“You can get food and medicine out there.”

“Mos Eisley is swarming with Durant’s men,” you explained. “The minute I step foot in any town or port here, they’ll know.”

Maybe being with Grogu had softened him, or maybe The Mandalorian genuinely couldn’t find it himself to leave you. But, he found himself doing the unthinkable: sticking his hand out to you, lifting you up, and leading you out of the docking bay and back towards his ship. He didn’t know what he was going to do or how he was going to do it but really, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. His main focus had been on keeping you alive until you were within the safety of the Crest.

You stumbled slightly when he put you down, tripping and falling towards the control panel to shut the loading bay doors. At least you were intuitive.

With that, you fell back to the ground. It was becoming clearer and clearer that you were in a bit of a state - how long did you say it had been? A week since Durant had left - so that was at least seven days without proper food or water. It was a miracle you were alive. Din had got there just in time.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked. “What do you want?”

He glanced over in your direction. “I don’t want anything.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you shot back.

“I wasn’t going to leave you there,” Din replied. He paused for a moment, before turning to face you. “I’ve heard Durant’s name before. I know what he does to people.”

“Aren’t you more worried about finding him and getting the bounty?” you pushed.

Truth be told, Din wasn’t that bothered. He had enough money from the last four pucks to get him where he needed to be. The fifth had just been a little extra, so he had an easier time letting go of it. He certainly wasn’t the only hunter going after Durant’s ass and worst case scenario, Karga would give him a little bit of shit for not completing the job. All of that was a lot more manageable than living with the guilt of leaving you in the dark to die.

“Someone else will get him. I’m sure.” Din muttered. He reached for a ration pack stored away on a shelf and tossed it in your direction. “You should eat this. I’ll get us in the air and find some bacta-”

“- you really don’t need to,” you cut him off.

“Eat,” he pushed again. “You’re weak. You’ll need it.”

--

Over the next few days, you would come to find that forceful-but-caring demands were The Mandalorian’s main language.

He didn’t talk much - or at all really. He didn’t need to, not when you kept to yourself on the lower deck of the ship whilst he dealt with everything else. He didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t helping; after all, you’d been in a weak state when Din had found you and standing up had been hard, let alone maneuvering around the flying hunk of metal. You were beginning to feel a little more spry, thanks to the food, water and bactaspray. The combination was hardly an elixir of life but you’d found yourself feeling a little more human.

Sleep was the hard one. A combination of confusion - at the situation, at Din, at where you were going - and nightmares made it hard. Every time you closed your eyes, you found yourself hurtling back in time to when Durant had first captured you. You’d been a test dummy for all his weapons and experiments and really, you were just lucky to be alive and in one piece. It didn’t count for much though, not when you couldn’t get a single fucking second of shut eye.

You would have been a fool to think that Din hadn’t picked up on it.

He was observational by nature and even more so by craft. A man who was constantly looking over his shoulder and straight ahead; a warrior who had been raised to keep a weapon by his side at all times. Of course he was going to notice your insomnia, and the way your eyes seemed even more sunken and dull than when he’d first found you.

You were sitting in the hull when he approached you. Not a lot had been said, other than the occasional eat this or put this on your bruises. Again - all a little forceful, but with a sense of genuinity behind the words. You still had a hard time believing that he was legitimately just a man who wanted to help you.

“I find that noise helps.”

You glanced up at him. “I’m sorry?”

He cleared his throat. “When I can’t sleep, and when I have nightmares, I find that being in a room with white noise helps distract my brain.”

“Oh, right,” you gave him a small nod. “I s’pose it is pretty quiet down here.”

“It’s noisier up there in the cockpit,” he replied. “We’re going to be in hyperspace for a while so if you want to get some sleep, I’ll stay down here.”

“Thank you.”

For the first time in days, you finally showed a glimmer of emotion. It was just a smile - and one he figured was a forced one - but still, it was a good sign.

Din’s eyes followed you as you stood up, heading for the ladder up to the cockpit. You stopped in front of it for a moment, palms wrapping around one of the rungs. At first, he thought you were just pondering, or taking a moment to rethink your actions, but then a light bulb went off in his head. You were too weak.

Moving slowly, The Mandalorian positioned himself behind you.

“Is it okay if I put them here?” he quietly asked, large, gloved hands hovering over the side of your hips.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied. “Thank you.”

With Din’s support, you were able to grab onto the hatch above and pull yourself up, boots hitting the ground of the cockpit. He followed you up, guiding you over to one of the pilot’s chairs. The lights of hyperspace were flashing by, illuminating the entire room in a white-gold glow. It felt odd to be up here after so many days of confining yourself just to the hull - forbidden, even with the invite from The Mandalorian himself.

“How did you know that I get nightmares?” you asked, turning around to face him.

The helmet tilted slightly. “I get them too.”

“I’m sorry,” you softly sighed. “Thank you again for your help.”

“It’s okay,” Din brushed it off as though it were nothing. “We have about four hours til our next stop. I’ll wake you up before we get there.”

“Is that where I get off?” you asked.

“No,” he firmly replied. “It’s not safe there either.”

You had more questions that you wanted to ask - now more than ever that he was finally talking - but you were far too exhausted to even try. Once you’d fallen back against the chair and been handed a blanket out of nowhere, the noise of the surrounding machines practically dragged you out of consciousness.

---

One question you had wanted to ask Din had been about the duration of your stay.

How long were you supposed to stay on board? How long did he want you there?

You were almost scared to ask, for fear of the answer. After all, you barely knew him. He could get up at any moment and demand that you left, and you wouldn’t have been able to argue. All of this - this looking after you, this roof over your head, this care - felt too good to be true. Like it was all part of some elaborate ruse.

But it was funny, because you were even more scared that it wasn’t. If Din - or The Mandalorian, as you knew him - was truly just a nice person with pure intentions, then that was about to be dangerous territory for you. The minute that you started trusting him, and the minute you started to see him as someone who could protect you, would spell trouble. You had never intended to become attached, but it was only natural. You hadn’t had a single person look out for you - not once in your life.

Every time he made you food, or helped you up into the cockpit, you felt yourself slipping that way. A six-foot pile of beskar should not have been a sign of comfort, but the helmet came to symbolise...something. You didn’t know what. Attachment, maybe? A little inkling of affection for whoever the hell was below those inches of steel?

A few weeks passed and the tension slowly began to falter. It was probably the proximity more than anything, but the time proved to you more than anything that Din was genuine. He was helping you because he wanted to - there was no personal gain for him, nor monetary. He actually, honestly just wanted to do good.

And doing good, he was. Whilst he still kept his distance, he looked after you. He made sure that you ate enough to recover from your periods of deprivation and once a day, he would clear out of the cockpit for you to get some rest. He still helped you up the ladder every time -and even when you told him you were strong enough, he still stood back and watched just to make sure.

Because, truthfully, The Mandalorian was beginning to see something in you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but he was intrigued by the way you were slowly beginning to show him parts of yourself. Where your eyes had once been gaunt and lifeless, they now had a spark in them. You were quiet when you’d met, but now you spoke to the kid and you hummed to yourself. It was like the life that was sucked out of you was slowly being breathed back in, day by day and bit by bit.

“Do you wanna get some sleep?” Din asked you one day.

“Yeah, sure,” you glanced up at the Child, giving him a small smile. “When did you last sleep, Mando?”

Another helmet tilt. “I get enough sleep.”

“I don’t believe you,” you thinned your eyes at him.

The Mandalorian sighed slightly - normally, that would have been a sign to literally anyone else to drop it. But with you? Nope. You saw that as a sign of progress; that the little, tiny display of emotion meant you were beginning to chip past those godforsaken layers of beskar.

“I get nightmares about Durant,” you continued. “Every time I panic and wake up in a cold sweat, I remind myself that I’m safe, because I know that you and the kid are here.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “You can tell me anything and I promise I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me.”

He pondered for a moment, before releasing another deep breath. “I can’t sleep alone.”

“Really?”

“Last time I did, I woke up and my parents were gone,” Din explained. “So I wait til the kid wants to go to sleep and I just go with him, so that I’m not alone.”

Your heart dropped a little at that - partially because he’d opened up to you, but also because the Child rarely ever slept. If Din only ever waited around for their exhaustion to coincide, it must have been months since he’d last got a decent night’s rest. It was the least he deserved.

Nodding, you stuck your hand out towards him. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna sleep and so are you,” you replied. “You need it and if I’ve done everything that you’ve instructed so far, I think I should have the same in return.”

--

Din didn’t want to admit it to himself at first.

It being multiple things: the fact you were helping him, the fact your presence on his ship had made the place seem better, the fact that his heart skipped a beat every time you brushed past him.

Bar his surrogate son, Din had never been close with anyone before. He’d never even slept in the same goddamn room as anyone else, even. That was a fucking mammoth step for him, but when you took his hand? It felt like a baby step. Just a tiny hop from A to B. Not a massive milestone, or a moment of personal progress. You had made it seem so simple.

Maybe that was it.

You never over-complicated anything. Your intentions were always clear and simple - there was no moral ambiguity, no moments where Din had to question whether or not he could well and truly trust you. He just knew. It was funny, because it was the exact same situation you’d had with him - questioning why he was helping you, trying to work out what he wanted. This whole time, Din had been helping you solely because he thought it was the right thing and it’s what you were doing for him too.

Din liked when you sat close to him. There was a little wave of warmth he felt every time you shuffled a bit nearer to him when you both crashed on the floor of the cockpit, and a tiny swarm of butterflies that flew through him when you stuck by his side in busy towns and cities. It was clear that you found comfort in him after so many years of going without it.

In turn, he found comfort in you. Not just in the way you unintentionally looked after him, but just...everything. Your presence had been a little odd on the Crest at first, but now it felt weird to be without it. Hearing you single quietly in the shower and have one-sided conversations with the Child filled a hole in his life that he hadn’t even realised had been there.

It was as though he’d had a missing puzzle piece his entire life; a gap between all the interconnected parts that hadn’t been integral, but certainly inconvenient. And now that it was filled, he could take a step back and finally look at the bigger picture that had been forming. All the pieces were finally there - you and the kid and whatever odd family unit that made you - and the galaxy didn’t seem so nonsensical anymore.

A little over two months after he first found you, word got around that Durant had finally been captured. Not by Din, but that hadn’t mattered - because killing the man who had hurt you, even after everything, would never amount to everything he’d done for you.

The relief didn’t last long for you, though - because as soon as you realised you no longer had a reason to hide, it dawned on you that you no longer had a reason to stay with Din. Or, at least not one you were willing to share with Din. Begging to let you stay just for the sake of being near him didn’t seem like a very convincing argument - at least not from where you were standing.

But from where Din was standing, it was a little different. You were part of his life now, even if you had no idea. That wasn’t your fault, though. He wasn’t exactly the best at vocalising it. Admitting it to himself had been hard enough, let alone to you.

“So,” you spoke softly, clearing your throat. “I suppose you’ll drop me off at the next planet?”

You were both sitting in the cock-pit; the Child was asleep downstairs and the Crest was soaring through the last stretch of hyperspace before Nevarro.

Din didn’t want to drop you off. He didn’t want his ship to be silent all over again or to sleep without you by his side. The thought alone of not having you around anymore was enough to make him a little watery-eyed beneath his beskar barrier. You’d grown on him, and in return, he’d kind of, accidentally fallen in love with you.

“You don’t have to go,” he said.

You peered over at him. “If you can think of a reason for me to stay aboard, please do let me know.”

“I want you to stay,” Din replied. He gently reached out a hand and took it in his - it was the first time that he’d given you such a vast gesture. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “It is.”

--

Staying aboard the Razor Crest was one of the best decisions you’d ever made.

Not only because it meant you were well and truly safe, but because Din’s direct request was a sign to you that you weren’t imagining things. Whatever attachment you felt to him, he felt it too - but it ran deeper than that. There was a mutual concern and respect for one another. Something born of two lifetimes spent on their own, finally coming together in one.

Things had been a little slow before then; the way that you danced around each other, like two magnets that were meant to come together - just with a little hesitancy. There had been a lot of late nights and long trains of thought about the signals that the other was giving off; about whether you’d misinterpreted the way his hands lingered over yours, or the way you’d practically passed out on his shoulder.

But, after that - after Din had openly asked you to stay, and you’d happily agreed, things began to move a little faster. Where you’d once been slowly walking down that hill and towards each other, you were now slipping, tripping and falling.

With each passing night, you inched closer towards each other. God forbid you ever found out, but Din even found himself pushing the pilot’s chairs closer to each other when you weren’t in the room, just so he could properly feel you next to him when you dozed off. He enjoyed your presence at the best of times but it was those dark, quiet moments when he genuinely and fully needed you.

It came to a head one night when you’d laid down with the Child beside you - not upstairs in the cockpit, but in the tiny cot in the hull of the ship.

There wasn’t room for one person, let alone one person and a tiny creature. Even worse, for two people - one in a beskar suit - and the creature. It just didn’t work. It shouldn’t have worked.

But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and the moment that Din saw you dead to the world with the Child in your arms, he was certain that he was going to make it work. Maybe with a bit of reshuffling there, and if he just moved the kid here - and that was when Grogu bit him pretty hard on the finger.

Disregarding his reshuffling plan, he knew there was only one option left.

It was something he’d never dreamt of doing before, simply for how terrifying and exposing it was - but he took one glance at you, and once glance at his kid, and he knew it was going to be worth it in the long run. It was merely a necessary step to getting closer to you - physically, mentally emotionally.

You stirred slightly at the sound of metal clattering to the floor - not enough to wake up, but enough to be a little more aware of the room around you. A moment later, there was a quiet hiss, and then everything went black.

In your sleepy state, your brain reacted a little slowly - but then the mattress beneath you dipped, and you felt someone’s skin against yours. Not just skin, but stubble against the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to it, and warm fingers tangling with yours.

“The armour,” you murmured. “You took it off.”

“It was the only way,” he softly replied. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” you let out a sleepy hum. “Good night…”

“Din,” he quietly said.

“Good night, Din.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin reader insert #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian reader insert #mandalorian imagines #star wars reader insert #star wars fan fiction #star wars x you #star wars imagines

[redrobin-detective]

Side Effects of ghost powers

Hey all! I’m writing a DP fic called Side Effects exploring the physical and later mental/emotional impact of Danny initially getting his ghost powers. As an ICU stepdown nurse for 3 years, I wanted to view Danny’s accident through a slightly more realistic, medical lens. 

Note: I had to fudge a good amount because Danny really should have fucking died and there’s no getting around that.

I do recommend you read the fic first before reading this as there’s some spoilers. Or if you don’t care you can read on. So! The two factors we are looking at regarding the accident are: ecto-contamination secondary to electrocution. 

Electrocution

I was forced to downplay a lot of the severe symptoms of electrocution because, again, a bad enough shock will kill someone. My hand-wavey explanation is simply that the portal didn’t activate at a deadly voltage so he got a good shock but not enough to be fatal. I guess.

Muscle weakness/spasms: intermittent muscle spasms are common from shocks, muscles being activated by electricity and reacting to the lingering impulses. Danny’s is transient but quite annoying for a time. But his muscles are gonna be weak and achy af for days if not weeks after from the massive contractions caused by the shock and the after effects. Sensory issues: lots of things can cause nerve damage, including electrocution so Danny is experiencing some pretty severe neuropathy primarily manifesting with numbness and tingling throughout his body. His entire skin and peripheral nervous system got fried so while its mostly numb it’s also super sensitive for a bit of time causing massive pain and discomfort from your body tingling like a thousand bee stings. It’s worst in the hours after the accident but is something that never quite really goes back to normal both from the electrocution and his ghost half taking over and generally dulling his sense of touch.

Hearing/Vision loss: Like skin/nerves, your sensory organs in your eyes and ears would be affected by such a severe and allover electric shock. Danny has some blurred and occasionally double vision from his eyes not properly receiving/understanding input. Hearing loss is common following electricity given how delicate the inner ear is but I just give Danny some nasty tinnitus (ear ringing) for a bit. This inner ear problem also massively throws off his balance when he’s trying to move post accident. These factors are exacerbated by the ecto-contamination and mostly fade in the days following the accident before going away as his superhuman healing kicks in.

Heart Arrhythmia: an irregular heartbeat caused by the electrical impulses that control basal heartrate not coordinating they they should for a variety of reasons, in this case, massive electric shock. Danny would be somewhat aware of it, its not exactly painful exactly but you can just feel that your heart isn’t beating right. Secondary side effects are dizziness, chest pain, fatigue and shortness of breath. This resolves almost entirely when Danny stabilizes

Cognitive issues: Danny got his brains a little scrambled in addition to his molecules being rearranged. The first third of the story Danny is very clearly NOT thinking straight and Tucker/Sam should not have left him alone. Shocks can cause things like irrational emotional behaviors from hormone release along with memory loss and depression. He constantly waxes and wanes in mood and opinions on what to do in the story and never comes to a true decision that, damn lucky for him, worked out on its own.

Ecto-Contamination

Alright so Danny got massively shocked, sucks right but people live through that all the time. Ecto-contamination is more tricky (not only cause its made up and I had to think about what symptoms it would theoretically produce) but because the effects are more life threatening. It’s also irreversible, once he was contaminated it was only something that could be survived not cured. 

So I theorized that Danny got shocked by the accident and was slowly dying of ecto-contamination and was pretty much clinically dead for a brief moment there, the death was enough for the large quantity of ectoplasm in him to immediately coalesce into a ghost (Phantom). So Danny was mostly dead but not quite, I’ve coded and brought back enough people to know it can be reversed somewhat. Danny becomes Phantom but the sudden stable formation of the ectoplasm into what its supposed to be, a ghost, caused his body to stop fighting the ectoplasm as a foreign invader and become part of the self. His core finished forming in his chest and his body started back up again, his ghost safely nestled in his once again living body as he slowly comes to grips with his actual death experience. 

Nausea/Vomiting: I likened the idea of ecto-contamination to radiation poisoning, something that is essentially the antithesis to life. One of the first symptoms of radiation is n/v which is also why it’s one of the first overt symptoms Danny has. He was heavily electrocuted/irradiated and his body wants to expunge it all. As for the ectoplasm/blood he vomits, that’s the next section. 

Gastrointestinal (GI) Bleed: So I was a little mean here. When one vomits up blood (or in this case ectoplasm/blood mix) it has to come from somewhere and a lot of the times it’s a GI Bleed. These are nasty, they need to be either cauterized or surgically repaired not to mention replenishing the blood lost. Fanon says that ectoplasm is at least mildly corrosive to humans so it is here, as it’s bonding to him, it’s literally eating him very slowly from the inside out which is causing a great deal of his internal pain. It’s not enough to be immediately life threatening but would kill him eventually. He developed some nasty bleeding ulcers in his stomach which let in blood and ectoplasm which were expunged. Danny’s core formed overnight and began healing the damage it had previously been causing but Dan is still gonna be vomiting excess blood/ectoplasm not to mention having black, tarry stools for at least a few days afterwards.

Hypothermia/Tremors: Hypothermia is when the body hits 95F/35C which Danny is just above at the start of the chapter. Danny initially starts shaking really bad (rigors) but as his body temperature cools further his shaking slows and eventually stops, a sure sign that the body is rapidly losing the fight to hypothermia and will likely die soon without immediate intervention. This is caused not only by the ectoplasm but his ice core shakily starting to form inside of him. Once he fully turns half ghost his hypothermia doesn’t change but it just no longer negatively affects him (I say Danny hovers naturally around 96-95F/35-33C getting much colder as Phantom at baseline. His body still can be damaged by going too cold but that’s a whole other post.) 

Incoherency/Hallucinations: I mentioned in the electrocution section that Danny is more than a little addled and the contamination didn’t help in that regard. Not only is he not thinking clearly but he’s also getting a little delirious and seeing things. Common hallucinations I see are: someone in the room watching you, things crawling on the walls, creeping shadows, you’re in the wrong place. I think its a solid 50/50 as far as Danny straight up hallucinating but also becoming more aware of natural ectoplasm that hangs around in the atmosphere. (And before anyone asks, yes Clockwork did come and visit, Danny just doesn’t remember)

Pain: Being electrocuted, irradiated, being dissolved slowly on the inside is enough to cause massive amounts of pain. Danny is 14, he doesn’t understand true pain and probably underestimated how much it would hurt. Once it got bad, it was almost paralyzing so it got to the point where even when he wanted to call for help, he couldn’t move or think past the horrible pain of his every molecule slowly dying and rearranging itself.

Weakness/Fatigue: I don’t really have anything much to add for this section that hasn’t been said in the others. Just the combination of all of the above meant Danny is so incredibly weak and fatigued, this will be problematic in the days and weeks following the accident as his body heals from the stress put on it. Poor boy was probably just getting past the worst of his symptoms by the time of the Lunch lady attack one month in.

Ghost instinct: Going off the medical rant for a minute to go into another aspect of the contamination present in the story, the idea of ectoplasm adding inherent ghostiness to Danny. Its common fanon that all ghosts (through ectoplasm) have their own unique code and language that is just omnipresent and instinctive. Such a massive, body altering dose of ectoplasm saw those things start to leech into Danny even before he became half ghost. The biggest is his fear of being seen, majority of ghosts are completely invisible and don’t want to be seen by the living. As Danny’s suffering and literally dying, he can’t bring himself to confess to his loved ones for very understandable reasons but also this ghostly instinct in the back of his head telling him to hide and get away. Other instincts are a strong attraction to the portal/Ghost Zone, lowkey being able to sense living people around him and a bit of an emotional dampener when Phantom. 

#danny phantom #danny phantom meta #danny not only got his skinny ass electrocuted #but also the ghost equivalent of radiation poisoning #kid is lucky af he survived #this fic took so long to write bc!!! I kept adding in more symptoms and details #and I just do not have enough words to convey how horrible Danny would have felt at the height of his contamination #poor baby #he's a little better next chapter

[yououui]

" i'm trying so hard, but... i can't stop myself from falling in love with you. " - but it's kurogane saying it! because you know he tried to stop himself before deciding this was just his lot in life and it was time to wife that boy

I accidentally wrote a 5 page fic of Kurogane just being a lovesick idiot enjoy

They sit in silence after Tomoyo leaves them. Kurogane wants to yell at her a bit because what the hell is she playing at dressing the mage like that?! but it turns out that cutting off an arm is exhausting and he doesn’t have the energy to fight her. He does give her a glare as she exits the room and she winks back at him.

Tea is brought for them eventually and Fai carefully pours them each a warm glass. “How are you feeling?” Fai asks while handing Kurogane his cup, the first words spoken since he socked Kurogane upside the head.

Kurogane shrugs, a natural instinct that proves to be a mistake as pain shoots across his left side. Fai notices his wince and moves closer in concern, like he thinks Kurogane will need to be caught before fainting, but Kurogane waves him off. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“And in pain,” Fai says. He almost sounds angry, but the sad look on his face betrays his tone.

“It’s not that bad,” Kurogane tells him instead. “As long as I don’t move too much.”

Fai regards the empty sleeve hanging at Kurogane’s side and the white bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. “You’re such… an idiot,” He says eventually. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Thought I made it clear a while ago,” Kurogane responds, as easily as ever. “I’ll do anything to protect the people I love.”

Fai laughs, though it sounds more like a sob, and shakes his head. “If you love me then you’re even more of an idiot.”

“Trust me, I know,” Kurogane says. When Fai lifts his eye, Kurogane offers him a small smile just so the idiot doesn’t get the idea in his head that Kurogane is serious. Somehow, even for as upset as he is, it gets Fai to smile weakly as well. That gives Kurogane the encouragement he needs to continue. “Y’know mage, I’m trying so hard—I’ve been trying for a while, but…”

But…?

When did it start exactly? When did the annoyance towards the insufferable man sitting beside him turn into curiosity? When did he begin finding himself wanting to know more about him—when did he begin to care?

He can’t be certain but Outo springs to mind first. The moment Fai’s casual admittance that he wanted to die spiked anger in Kurogane. Anger not towards Fai, as Fai believed, but towards the mere idea of him going through with it. And the moment he saw the mage’s ribbon on the ground, no body to be seen as demons surrounded him and that anger returned like a tsunami wave engulfing him until he could barely see or breathe.

And the relief when he saw the idiot was actually alive. And the frustration at himself for feeling so relieved for someone that didn’t care about Kurogane or himself. Kurogane knew that it was pointless to let himself be interested in the mage; Fai was a liar that carefully kept them all at arms length and Kurogane had no idea who he would see when the mask finally fell.

But he didn’t want Fai to die. As grating as Fai could be, Kurogane wanted him to stick around. He didn’t care about Fai’s past, but he wanted to understand him more. He wanted to know what he liked—liquor, music, cooking, annoying Kurogane, cats, dogs?—and what he disliked—hangovers, waking up early, pickles, personal questions, green tea. He wanted to understand what had Fai so guarded, what had him so afraid, and he wanted Fai to understand that he could let the walls down every now and then, that Kurogane would protect him from whatever he was running from.

And then Yama, Piffle, Lecourt, seeing those walls break down brick by careful brick. Feeling the strength of Fai’s magic for the first time as it engulfed them, the sheer power of it suffocating and brilliant. And Kurogane felt a brief spark of hope that maybe, maybe, Fai was beginning to learn that caring wasn’t such a bad thing.

And then the fear that came with the weight of Fai’s limp body in his arms, the way his blood fell like morbid tears and stained usually flawless skin. Kurogane had felt that once before as a child, the night his life was burned to ruins but he still refused to let his mother go. Kurogane also refused to let Fai go; he needed to feel the mage’s breath and heartbeat, no matter how weak. He needed to know with certainty that Fai was still alive.

It may have began earlier, but it was then that he realized that his minor curiosity had grown into something he couldn’t control or bury or pretend not to notice. In that moment, his worldview narrowed down until he could only see Fai, the noises around them dulled except for Fai’s wavering breath and weak voice, and suddenly anything else he’d ever wanted didn’t seem to matter. He made the wish and paid the price and bound himself to Fai, a man who would keep running seemingly forever.

Well then, to hell with Nihon—he could find a new home or wander around new worlds with Fai until the day he died. He could give up his own life, tear out his own heart, anything it would take to keep that idiot alive for one more day.

It was only after it was over and the price paid that Kurogane reminisced about his parents and realized that there was a word for what he was feeling.

“But I can’t stop myself from falling in love with you.”

Fai says nothing but the breath he takes is sharp enough to cut the stillness around them. Because sure, Kurogane loved him, he cared, they were friends after all. But to fall in love…

It was something he knew he shouldn’t feel as soon as he realized it. He knew he should avoid it. If he tried to pursue someone who did not want to be chased, it would only end in disaster.

And gods did he try to stop it before it reached that point. Kurogane had heard of heartbreak of course, through others lamenting the loss of their beloved or reading about it in books, but he’d never experienced it himself. He didn’t understand how such a feeling could overwhelm someone completely and scoffed at characters in stories that threw themselves from high windows or drank poison rather than live a day without their love.

But then he felt it, that hot knife of rejection stabbing him straight through the chest. Each cold word and hostile glare twisted the blade until he was certain his heart had been crushed to a gruesome, mangled mess, and yet there were still tender bits of it left for Fai to sink his claws into. And then Kurogane understood the windows and the poison and honestly, he’d rather cut off his other arm than ever experience that again.

But at least Fai was alive. At least he was there, and Kurogane would take the bitter pain and more for Fai. Only for Fai.

Kurogane chuckles to himself now, the entire thing so miserable it’s almost humorous. If the person he was before Tomoyo cast him away could see him now, he’d probably call himself a moron, just like those characters in the stories. Kurogane never knew one person could change him so much. “Even when you hated me, I couldn’t help it.”

Fai’s head falls forward and he digs the heel of his palm into his eye as if it could shove his tears back inside. His other hand trembles and fists his kimono so tightly, Kurogane is worried he’ll tear right through the silk.

“I never—hated you,” Fai gasps, shoulders trembling. Kurogane feels bad for making Fai cry—Fai’s cried a lot recently. It comforts Kurogane to hear the truth, though, and he thinks the mage needs it. He has about five lifetimes of tears built up. “I couldn’t. So I tried to make you hate me but—gods, even after all I did... how I treated you…! You still wouldn’t...”

Kurogane turns his body a bit so that he can reach Fai with his right hand. He ruffles Fai’s hair and the indignant squeak Fai lets out as his head is pushed down feels entirely worth it. “Guess we’re both idiots then,” Kurogane tells him quietly.

Fai peers up at him through his hair that Kurogane has made a mess of. His face is shining with tears, his cheeks splotched red and his eye swollen and Kurogane marvels that such a beautiful person could ever exist in the mortal world.

Fai weakly—playfully—swats Kurogane’s hand away and wipes his sleeve against his cheeks. Kurogane snorts, humored that the outfit Tomoyo carefully picked for Fai to wear for a very specific reason has been reduced down to a rag to dry his face. “I think Kuro-sama must be on all kinds of strange medicine,” Fai says with a fragile but honest smile. “He’s in such a good mood and saying all kinds of weird things.”

“Mm. Don’t expect to hear this shit when I wake up tomorrow,” Kurogane tells him with a nod. He’s still smiling though, smiling like a lovesick idiot with hearts in his eyes but damn it he’s been through too much and has almost lost Fai too many times to care about it now. Hearing the slightly teasing tone in the mage’s voice and seeing him here, alive and at Kurogane’s side, soothes his torn up heart and begins stitching the pieces back together.

Fai’s smile grows as well, the fragile edges chipping away and leaving behind a look of pure happiness Kurogane has never seen on him before. Fai reaches over, letting go of his own kimono to grab the empty sleeve of Kurogane’s. “I’m sorry,” He says. “And thank you. But never do something like this again.”

“Don’t almost get yourself killed again and I won’t have to,” Kurogane tells him, grinning.

Fai nods, still smiling. “Fine. You’ll live a long, long life with me by your side, Kuro-sama. I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

It’s probably the strangest proposal in the history of any world, but it’s one Kurogane is happy to accept.

#kurofai

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Call 911

GIF by lostinsantacarla

Paul x Reader

Word Count: 2,550

Summary: Reader is out on patrol as part of the Santa Carla PD when they respond to a call out at the wharf. 

Amid the riotous flare of fireworks and fire crackers, it was difficult to make out the quickly approaching cop car but Marko prided himself on being observative.

Paul, Paulie, P-Man, his forever partner on the other hand…

Grabbing Paul by the front of his tank, he pulled the other vampire down to hiss in his ear. “We got company. We bail on my signal, got it?”

The honey blonde nodded distractedly, mesmerized by the bright bursts of colors overhead. The reds and blues and whites and pinks mixed with the curtain of smoke, creating a kaleidoscope against the inky night sky. 

He only heard part of what Marko was gripping about—something about a signal—but it wasn’t his fault he was having so much fun.

Another of their fireworks went off from behind Max’s Video, making him laugh even harder when some empty pallets became collateral. They splintered into pieces, the crunching sound of the wood masked by the other explosions.

Nothing said summer time fun like launching some Big Boys at the video store. It was a rockin’ light show and piss-off-Max scheme all wrapped in one. The crochety, old douche in question would no doubt have some choice words for them later but Paul wasn’t thinking about that; the only thing on his mind was blowing shit up.

In fact, he was so into it that he wasn’t prepared for the sharp punch to his ribs. He flew into the wall as Marko ran past, scampering to get airborne. “Go, go, go!”

The back door to the store opened with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud crack. Paul could sympathize. Two officers came through and before he could even think to pick himself up and run, they were on him.

The rounder of the two sat on his back, putting all his pounds into pinning Paul down. Normally, he would’ve thrown him off and maybe, probably, killed him, no sweat.

But.

There were too many people around that could catch him in the act. There’s no way Max would step in and not even Paul was stupid enough to slaughter that many people in plain sight.

Marko, he whined through the bond. A little help, bud? I’m kinda stuck.

All he got back was a manic cackle.

Paul squawked in outrage, knowing that the other would not be lending an assist. That traitor was all too content to sit back and laugh at him.

Whatever.

Screw him then.

It’s not like Paul had never been hauled in before anyhow.

“You know,” he grunted to the cop on his back, “It’s a good thing you’re not fat or anything, otherwise this would be more difficult.”

The knee dug into his back even harder and his head was pulled back by his hair. It didn’t hurt that much but still! He worked for hours to make his hair look good!

“Police brutality! I have rights, you know!” he yelled. The cop was starting to get on his nerves.

His face was shoved back into the ground and he ate gravel, sputtering to get the pebbles and grime out of his mouth with mixed success. The taste lingered and the only way to get rid of it would be to wash it down with something—

Hmm. He hadn’t planned on feeding that night but some pig blood would take care of it nicely.

He attempted to at least think of an isolated spot to rip out his throat without getting caught. Maybe in the cop car. Maybe he could drag him to the bushes outside of the station.

Oh! If the guy stopped for doughnuts, he could steal the car—doughnuts sounded good though. A nice chocolate glaze with sprinkles or something filled with strawberry jelly! The corner store on the boulevard had the best selection this time of night. He needed more hairspray, too, as long as he was at it, a magazine or three—he shook his head.

Come on, self, get it together!

“I’m going to find the one that ran. Officer Y/LN, you take this idiot back to the car and sit tight until I get back.”

Roughly, he was hauled to his feet and he had been so focused on the tub of lard that had him on the ground that he forgot two cops had burst through the door.

He planted his feet and refused to be moved as he glanced at the second one. It was like pushing at a stone wall, the other at his back unable to shove him into motion.

Immediately, Paul realized his mistake.

Why was he so occupied with that other asshole when he could’ve been looking at you, been pressed up against you the entire time?

The saying was that everyone loved a person in uniform and Paul was no exception. You made the normally dull standard navy uniform look good, the short sleeves showing off your arms and the pants managed to cup your ass in the tastiest way.

He’d cup your ass even better, if you gave him the chance.

Even the serious, disapproving scowl on your face was hot. What he wouldn’t do to get you to make that face with you on top of him, manhandling him any which way you wanted.

Screw his little feeding plan. He was willing to spare your partner in exchange for getting to know you better.

A big happy smile stretching across his face, he finally moved, dragging your partner rather than being forced forward.

“Hey, sexy,” he said with his signature wink, the one that always got him what he wanted with people. “Name’s Paul.”

To his disappointment, you didn’t respond and merely took control of his handcuffed hands as they were passed over.

As you lead him back through the video store, he pulled his arms to the left, acting like he was trying to resist. Just like he expected, you corrected him with a strong, tight grip that sent a rush down his spine.

“Ouch, babe, not so rough,” he purred. “I’m very sensitive.”

He glanced back quick to see your reaction and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. You still wore a straight face that gave nothing away. No clenched jaw, no embarrassed tightening of your eyes. Definitely no hint of an amused smile.  

Gods, babe. You were really testing him.

Guess he’d have to try harder.

*** 

You were new to the Santa Carla Police Department. Very new. New as in it was your first incident on your first night on patrol.

It was just your luck that you’d ended up with airhead who’d set off a whole fireworks display right outside of a crowded store, which could have serious injury, and was now trying to flirt his way out of it.

Hell—was he pouting?

For a city of its size, Santa Carla PD had a surprising number of job openings. You were new to the area, having moved because it seemed like a nice, sunny California beach town and you were in need of a change.

You didn’t have any prior experience but you’d passed all the screenings and tests and expected the job offer they made. It had benefits, the pay was good, and, importantly, it was legal which seemed to be in short supply around these parts.

That last part was a surprise, especially with the high number of missing people’s cases; you’d think that more places would be desperate to fill jobs, too.

Steering the suspect towards the check out counter, you flagged down the owner who had been the called in to the station.

He turned towards you with a smile on his face and greeted you politely. “Hello, officer.”

“We caught one suspect, sir. The other fled the scene and my partner went after him. I’ll get started on the report—are you planning to press charges?”

The smile was suddenly no where to be seen and he casted a glare at the handcuffed blonde.

“But of course. I’ve told this degenerate and the others in this gang to stay out of here a hundred times before. They’ve gone too far this time.”

The suspect merely shrugged his shoulders and winked at you which set the owner off further.

“That! That right there is what I’m talking about. No respect, no conduct. How is a father supposed to parent if he gets no respect? Maybe they’re missing a motherly influence,” he trailed off.

A motherly influence? Okaaay, then.

Clearing your throat, you tried to bring the conversation back to topic. “Yeah…Well let me put him in the car and then we can get started on the report. Have a good night, sir.”

That should’ve been the end of it but of course the blonde had to open his big mouth. “Bye daddy!”

Max’s hand came down heavy on the counter and you jostled the boy away before he managed to start a full-blown confrontation.

“You surely have a big mouth for someone who’s being arrested. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

His head perked up and you had to really plant your weight to keep him from turning around and sending you flying into a display in the process. Definitely stronger than he looked.

You noted that piece of information just in case he tried anything else.

“Aww. Are you worried about me?” he cooed. “Don’t be. I trust you to protect me, officer.”

“Any one ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?”

“All the time,” he nodded happily.

The profile of the suspect was coming together in your mind. Clearly, he was simple.

Happy and excitable, and yes, even pretty, but simple.

There’s no way he had been the mastermind behind the firework plot; that honor was likely saved for the one who escaped. He probably hadn’t agreed to do it with malicious intent either. Unfortunately, his inability to think things through had landed him in trouble and he was your problem now.

When you got to the entryway he even tried to the door open. “After you, officer.”

With a resigned sigh, you prodded him forward. Again. Really, this guy was worse than a puppy. A puppy could eventually be trained to listen but seeing as how he was late teens/early twenties, it was doubtful he ever would.

“You said your name was Paul?”

The p in his ‘yep’ popped.

“Last name?”

“Just Paul. I wouldn’t mind getting your name though.”

There’s no way you were telling him that. He would be that much more insufferable if he knew. And try as he might to hide his full name, that would come out when you booked him at the station.

“Well, Paul. You’re being charged with public endangerment and vandalism. Under California law, those are both misdemeanor crimes so most likely—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved away your words with a flick of his head. Annoyed, you yanked on the cuffs, causing him to moan. “I do appreciate a good pair of handcuffs.”

“You—!” You had to stop yourself from calling him a little shit out loud. No one would’ve stopped you, but you felt weird about it, almost like it would come off as being unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to bring your voice back down. “Saying crazy things is only going to make things worse for you.”

“Promise to punish me if I don’t?” Another wink was flashed at you.

It was at that point you noticed he had long lashes for a male. They fluttered like butterfly wings whenever he blinked. Except you had a job to do and really shouldn’t care about how pretty he was.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took you by surprise when he leaned in close. Acting on tactical instinct, you threw him against the police vehicle, his torso pressed against the hood with legs spread wide.

The position was designed to be as uncomfortable as it looked so that there was little to no chance of him bucking you off. Good.

“Need I remind you,” you said gruffly, “That you are under arrest. Don’t test me.” 

“You should most definitely frisk me,” he panted.

You sincerely hoped it was pain, and not from pleasure, but from your brief encounter with Paul, it honestly could be the latter. Your own heart was pounding in your chest as well but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through your system.

Or so you maintained.

Still, he had a point. Frisking was standard procedure to make sure the suspect was carrying anything potentially dangerous, or illegal. Hell. You were going to have to give into this particular demand, weren’t you?

Wanting to get it over with, you tried to be as fast as possible while still be thorough.

His muscles were surprisingly cold as you felt up his arms and then his back. It was summertime and when most people had problems overheating, it didn’t seem to be an issue for him.

You dreaded going anywhere near his ass but it had to be done. He even insisted on ‘helping’ by pushing his cheeks further into your hands by curving his lower back as you patted down his pants pockets.

“Check the front too. I could have anything down my pants, ya know.”

That didn’t sound suggestive at all. His flirtations were so over the top is was near comical at that point. You couldn’t let him know that though. You were the authority figure in this situation.

“Alright smart guy, the frisking is over with. And surprise, surprise there was exactly nothing in your pants.”

“You wound me, babe.” If he had use of his arms, his hand would’ve definitely been placed over his heart.  

Standing him upright, you opened the door to seat him in the back. That had been the plan any way.

One second you held his metal clad wrists firmly in your grip and in the next, he twisted himself away effortlessly.

He spread his hands apart and although they each had a shiny steel band around them, the chain that had connected them broke off with a metallic clink.

Just like that he was completely mobile and he wasted no time.

In another imperceptible move, he covered your back with his front, his breath tickling you.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“It’s been a pleasure, officer, but I really should get going. I’m just too cute for jail.” He rolled his head and his nose traced the shell of your ear with a deep inhale. “This was fun though. Let’s do it again, hmm?”

He shoved you into the back seat and luckily your reflexes were fast enough to catch yourself before you face planted into the leather seat. Thrashing like mad, you spun around as fast as you could but it was no use: Paul was already gone.

Stumbling out, you looked back and forth hoping to catch a glimpse of what direction he went but it was useless. Not only was that little shit stronger than he seemed, he was also faster.

Noted.

With a sinking realization, you knew you were going to have to explain this to your partner.

Oh, you were not looking forward to this…

Worst first night on a job ever.

_______________

Hope you enjoyed Paul! I feel like this is goofy and over the top but I guess that’s basically Paul’s vibes in a nutshell. Marko has definitely gotten Paul arrested before and Max has definitely called the cops on them before too haha. Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye special — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Walking through the dark halls of permanently stained apartment building, Jungkook finally stood in front of a familiar number written on the text. He rapped at the wooden door a few times hearing a couple of grunts and rummaging from the other side. He sighed. “It’s me, Hoseok, you don’t have to hide the weed.”

“ Oh! ”

A few locks clicked here and there before the door swung open to welcome a light air of smoke mixed with the stench alone that could make Jungkook high. Hoseok gave him a loose smile, holding onto his arm as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You finally made it!”

Jungkook hummed trying not to grimace too much at the smell as the older male closed the door behind them.

“Come on, tell me…” Hoseok patted his back, prancing towards the couch where the coffee table was exuding smoke.

The apartment was miniscule with one bedroom door open on the left and a tiny kitchen on the right with a window next to the fridge. Another one near the dining table. Walls were a gross green tint and the floors a dull brown with black velvet couches that were ripped a little at the edges. But Jungkook could not complain.

“Tell you what?” The younger male dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to him, burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Hoseok picked his joint back up and hovered it near his lips. “What was prison like?” He sucked in his cheeks causing the ambers to light up at the end before he blew the thick smoke away from Jungkook.

“Like living with a bunch of criminals. What else?”

“So just like old times then.” Hoseok smirked.

Jungkook glanced at the male for a moment before scoffing out a chuckle. “Yeah…pretty much.” Except there was one difference. Every time he pranced with criminals like himself in the past, he was a leader. In prison, he was young, fresh meat. Before he would also come back home to a warm embrace in bed instead of a steel bed alone with a stinky roommate.

“Well it’s all over now.” He blew out another puff of smoke, shifting to rest his head back against the couch. “You can start doing something else with your life. Something different. Not a lot of people like us get that chance.”

For the first time, he noticed a slight sadness in Hoseok’s tone despite being pumped with artificial endorphins.

His eyes flickered down to the coffee table, noticing the burger wrappers and scattered newspapers. One of them immediately caught his eye. Jungkook sat up again, pulling one of them out of the pile, the right corner of his lips twitched seeing the familiar face.

‘ FAMED DESIGNER KIM BELLE RULES TOKYO FASHION WEEK ’

A side by side picture of a model wearing violet and gold ensemble which almost resembled the traditional kimono with a modern, royal twist. The picture on the right showed her. Belle wearing a simple black dress with her gorgeous waves out and a gracious smile spread across her lips.

‘ Twenty seven year old fashion designer Kim Belle takes all the popularity and buzz with her winter designs for Tokyo Fashion Week. Showing her long love for traditional Japanese fashion culture along with an inspiring movement for domestic violence and trafficking victims by showcasing broken chains and kimono style gowns. An elegant mix of grace and fight for personal freedom. Truly an impressive successor to the legend that was Madame Saito and we are definitely going to keep an eye out for more of her daring projects. ’

“She made a big damn name of herself.” Hoseok broke through the thick coat of silence Jungkook had around him.

“She deserves it.” More than I ever did.

The older male searched his expression for a moment, scoffing a little. “Dude, I have to ask.”

Jungkook met his gaze as he leaned back onto the couch again with the newspaper still in his hands. “What?”

“Why her?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you—literally could’ve had anyone in the entire country to pose as your fake wife or whatever. But you chose a fashion designer who barely knew anything about you to begin with…” Hoseok shook his head with a light wince. “What was your angle?” Some part of him did not want to believe Jungkook simply blackmailed someone for his own amusement because he knew the man was better than that.

Jungkook wished he had a decent reason to blurt out to him. Maybe he was just inherently evil and wanted to hurt Belle for his own pleasure. Maybe he wanted to fuck her one time just for kicks before dragging her out a little further until it was too much. Maybe he was just sick in the head, wanting to claim a girl who could not say a word against him because her and her brother’s life were wrapped around his finger. Except none of them felt like the truth. “I honestly thought she’d say no.”

“Oh fuck off—”

“Seriously I…” He shrugged a little. “I really thought she was going to punch me and storm out of there with her brother.”

“But the guards wouldn’t let her. I mean—no offense, buddy but you would’ve probably killed her. Knowing you from back then.” Hoseok scrunched his nose lightly.

“She did something ten times more dangerous though.” Jungkook couldn’t resist the jolt of pride bursting in him. “I destroyed her—so she waited until she destroyed me.”

Hoseok chortled a little, voice incredibly raspy. “I wouldn’t call going to jail for your crimes destroying you but sure…”

Jungkook shared a small laugh, nodding as he looked at her picture again. He could almost still feel her soft skin underneath his palm. How her hair smelled when he would hug her from behind as they slept, the way it soothed him to a calmer sleep.

“It’s a thing of the past though…” He tilted his head as his expression turned a little more serious. “…right? No more pulling her into shit she doesn’t deserve?”

“Yeah—yeah, of course.”

“Good…cause Belle’s the star of the city now. One wrong move towards her, you’re back in jail or worse.” Hoseok raised his brow a little making sure there was not a hint of determination on that young face of doing anything stupid. “You don’t have guards or power by your side and Taehyung isn’t addicted anymore. Has a wife and kid…he’s got the dad anger. So he will beat the living shit out of you if you give him the motivation.”

“I know, Hobi.” Jungkook chuckled, patting his thigh gently. “I don’t want her to go through it again either.”

Hoseok hummed a little taking another waft from his joint as he looked out the window, the sky tinted purple. “Alright. I’m gonna go and eat my girlfriend out.” He patted his shoulder, walking up to his bedroom.

“You had to look at the time for that?” Jungkook winced despite the grin on his face.

“Brother, when you’re together for this long, things need schedules.” He walked out of the bedroom with a black duffel bag putting out the joint onto the ashtray. “Food’s in the fridge and there’s Netflix open on the laptop.”

Jungkook waved him off before the door clicked close leaving him in his thoughts. For some reason, all he could do was look back at the newspaper and try to salvage that warm feeling again. The feeling of a true home that could never be.

-

Purple faded into a deep blue across the skies as Jungkook paced around the apartment in his bare torso, scattered with more imperfect tattoos. One cellmate liked doing tattoos because it calmed him down so the younger male did not hesitate much to let him use his skin. He was a nice man who had been thrown in jail for being a drug mule all his life and Jungkook could not help but have a nauseating guilt in his stomach.

Drug mules were essentially trafficked human slaves from Jungkooks’ experience. Their owners use their lives and bodies to transport goods without being detected and usually they start off terrifyingly young or desperate or both. All this service was done for almost little to no money. They were more abused victims than criminals but the legal system were not good at telling the difference sometimes.

Jungkook allowed his body to be used as if giving himself some kind of cathartic relief allowing the broken soul to control something else for a while instead of being controlled. Thus his skin now littered with designs of devil horns, tiger flowers and his own personal request was a tiny print font ‘B’ on his collarbone. No one could truly see it up close but he wanted to feel it there.

Chugging a generous sip from his beer bottle, he quietly observed the night sky glimmering with stars while the city shone in neon. The one thing his mansion lacked was the clear view of how alive everything looked at night.

A knock sounded on the door causing his head to shoot to the side.

Hoseok should not have been home at this hour. Even if he was, the man would not knock in his own apartment.

Jungkook opened the kitchen drawer and brandished a knife before making his way over to the door. Another knock sounded again. It was a gentle knock. Almost shy. But he knew better than soften up so easily. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole trying not to make too much of a sound even though the wooden floors creaked far too much.

His heart jumped right up to his throat seeing the familiar face on the other side. Jungkook almost dropped the knife on the floor trying to focus as best as he could. Was he drunk already? Was he dreaming? Gulping down, he placed the knife on the side table along with the beer bottle and opened the door.

When the view became clear to him, Jungkook let out a sharp breath. “Belle.”

Her hair was shorter up to her shoulders compared to the length in the newspaper picture except she still always kept her natural waves. Eyes a little glazed while her flushed lips spread into a weak smile before pressing them together again. “I-I don’t–I don’t know why I’m here.” Belle’s furrowed her brows a little.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiled even though a small tinge of sadness shone in his eyes.

He opened the door further for her to enter before closing it behind him. Eyes flickered down to her grey sweatpants and frilly white socks paired with a thick sweater like she just woke up from a nap.

Belle kept her back to him for a few minutes, pretending to observe the apartment even though she was really just trying to figure out why she was here. Questions muddled her mind over and over again. Any valid or logical answer. There was nothing. No reason to be standing here when she tried so hard to walk away from him. She did everything to get away. Now she walked right back without any coercion.

Jungkook tilted his head attempting to meet her gaze but decided not to force it too much. “You cut your hair.” A smile twitched on his lips. “It looks nice.”

She absentmindedly touched her waves, breathing out a small chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Uh—how did you know I was here?”

“Namjoon helped me track you down.” Belle mumbled, guilt pooling in the pit of her belly going behind Yoongi’s back like this. She still remembered what Namjoon said when he gave her the address.

‘I’m only giving you this because I know you’re tough as nails…no matter what people say to you…but the second anything goes wrong, you call me.’ Namjoon had become a close friend in the last few years. He had been escorting her back and forth from home to work.

Yoongi had been disallowed to see her after being undercover so he could get a proper therapy before doing field work again. So Namjoon seemed the next obvious choice to take care of her.

Finally Belle turned around to face him, eyes raking down his torso and seeing new designs etched on his skin. Not as precise as the phoenix but still beautiful. “The tattoos look good.”

Jungkook glanced down at his torso with a soft grin. “A friend did them for me.” He met her gaze again even though she quickly averted it, plunging silence back into the room as they waited for it to be filled. “Belle…why are you here?”

Her body deflated as the question lingered in the air, lump growing in her throat while her knees kept trembling. “I—” Belle closed her eyes. “I mis—I missed you.” She smiled sadly before trailing her glossy gaze away again. “It sounds stupid when I say after so long.” Her voice kept getting constricted from the lump, tears filling at the brim of her eyes. “But I still think about you…I still kept that—stupid letter after all these years.”

A familiar warmth seeped through his veins knowing she missed him but it still mixed with dread and guilt. Jungkook scarred her memories forever with his presence and she was so confused on what it meant. He could see the way she shifted and looked away as if trying to push reality away but face it all the same. “I hurt you a lot. I’m so sorry—if I—if I could do it all over again, I’d do it better.”

“How could it have been better?” Belle shook her head. “We met when my brother owed you a debt.”

Jungkook raised his shoulders. “Maybe we’d have met at your boutique.” He attempted to smile a little at the thought of just walking into that boutique and falling in love the normal way. The happy way. “I’d have flirted with you a lot and you’d roll your eyes at me. We’d travel together to Paris or Tokyo, explore the things we love and eat ice-cream until our stomachs ached.” A tiny chuckle passed through his lips.

Belle had to suck in her trembling bottom lip as tears began escaping down her cheeks. “And?”

“We’d get married…properly. Away from my family, we’d relax somewhere at a beach.” The visions in his mind played without any effort causing his eyes to flood knowing it was all an impossible dream now. “We’d have children…we’d love them so much, Belle—”

She couldn’t hold in the sobs that shook through her body. At the very mention of children, Belle felt a tingle under the skin of her belly, memories of the aches still lingering. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”

“What?” He whispered.

“Why didn’t you just take the money? And don’t tell me it was because of business or keeping up appearances. Why? Why me?”

The ever burning question. Even the interrogators asked them the question. What was the motive to taking in Miss Kim? A lot of people owed you debts. Jungkook only answered with a vague, menial answer that had no real connection to his deeds as a boss.

“It was—it was just an impulse…”

Belle’s expression hardened even though her eyes still looked so vulnerable and broken. “An impulse?” Her voice was small and meek. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t think you’d—say yes.”

Saying it to Hoseok was easy. Saying it to Belle felt evil. Jungkook noticed the darkness clouding over her beautiful features, a mixture of heartbreak and pure rage.

“You put my brother’s life on the line and you thought I wasn’t going to say yes?” Belle winced, tone rising back to its original power. A harsh slap of reality learning that one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life happened because one man had an impulse decision to use his power over her.

“Belle, it was years ago—”

“So why am I still getting nightmares about it?!” She shrieked leaving a tense silence to plunge into the room while her voice still echoed through the walls a little. “W-why h-haven’t I stopped seeing t-that mansion every time I close my eyes? Wh-why do I wake u-up scared that I’m still in that room w-while they watch—” Belle let out a loud, trembling breath closing her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to her chest from her jawline as she hugged herself tightly.

Jungkook stammered, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat as he attempted to keep his composure. “You didn’t have to come and see me.” He whispered.

“I wanted you to see me.” Belle sniffled shakily. “Staying away from you doesn’t help because you could always push it out. I can’t—I can’t push it out because it’s inside me.”

“You think all this has been easy for me? That I just pushed it out?” Jungkook shook his head with a pained expression as their gazes met again. “Yeah our first meeting was an impulse but that didn’t mean it was always like that. I stopped a lot of contact with my family when you told me you were pregnant. That letter was meant to be the last thing I said to my parents before we left.”

Belle wanted to argue that he just started getting sympathetic after her pregnancy but she would be a hypocrite. Even she felt softened knowing a child was growing inside her. “You wanted to kill the mayor too, Jungkook, how long would that have taken?”

“Overnight if it meant I’d be escaping somewhere with you.” Jungkook spoke without hesitation, still remembering all the plans he had in place for their move.

“But I would’ve lost the baby anyway.” She smiled sadly. “It was natural causes.”

The male took a few careful steps forward, trying not to intimidate her but hopefully close a little more distance between them. “I didn’t just do it for the baby, Belle.” Jungkook sighed. “I did it cause I love you…but I knew we couldn’t be happy if we were at that mansion and I was still running the cartel.”

Belle sniffled. “I wish you didn’t love me.” Her chin trembled, her body tired of brewing more sobs as tears filled her eyes again. “I wish I didn’t love you. Maybe all this would be easier.”

“When has it ever been easy between us?”

“That’s the problem.” She pressed her lips together. “Love shouldn’t be this difficult. Maybe sometimes but—every single day wondering whether what you’re feeling is real…or worrying that something terrible is going to happen if I stay with you for too long.” Features contorted in pain as she stumbled on her feet a little.

Jungkook’s inhibitions banished immediately seeing her trip slightly, rushing to her side and gently holding onto her arm. Before he could say anything, he felt Belle rest her head on his chest. A burst of butterflies soared across his belly having that familiar smell touch his nostrils and the warmth of her body radiating onto his cold bare skin.

They didn’t say a single word as Jungkook properly wrapped his arms around her body, fingers brushing through her soft hair. Her sobs were quiet but her body still trembled and his embraced tightened a little. As if praying that all of her pain could be transferred to him so she did not have to suffer through it all.

Belle should have pulled away the moment he touched her but the warmth was too much. Her body felt heavy against his, melting onto his skin almost like they could join as one. Maybe that could repair some of the damage. Breathing became steady as she allowed herself to relax. A protective part of her still tried ensure she was not too vulnerable but another part said it was too late.

In this particular weakened moment, she was his and he was hers.

-

15 unread messages.

Namjoon: How did it go? Are you good?

Namjoon: Taehyung said you didn’t come home last night.

Namjoon: Belle?

Namjoon: I don’t want to have to track you down.

Namjoon: Please tell me if you’re okay.

Namjoon: Yoongi and Taehyung found out, I’m sorry.

Belle: I’m okay.

Namjoon: Jesus, don’t scare me like that.

Namjoon: Where are you?

Belle: I’m still at Jungkooks’ place.

Namjoon: Okay. Is everything alright?

Belle: I don’t know.

Namjoon: What do you mean? Did he hurt you?

Belle: No.

Namjoon: Just tell me what happened.

Namjoon: Look I’m not Yoongi or Taehyung. I won’t get mad, alright? You can tell me.

Belle: I slept with him.

Namjoon: Okay that’s fine.

Belle: No it’s not.

Namjoon: Did he hurt you or force you or anything?

Belle: No, no it was consensual.

Namjoon: Then I don’t see an issue.

Belle: How?

Namjoon: Considering he’s a former drug lord, I expected far worse things done to you then you two just consensually having sex.

Belle: Are they really angry?

Namjoon: I’ll handle Yoongi and Angel’s handling Taehyung. They’re grown men, they’ll get over it.

Namjoon: Just come back up again.

Belle: Okay. Thank you, Joon.

Namjoon: Anytime.

Belle let out a sigh, chest falling a little as she hugged her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Eyes scanned the ceiling, a few brownish stains here and there but nothing far too putrid. Her old apartment usually had those stains after a storm. She felt Jungkook shift a little, his arm still resting over her body while his face buried into her neck. It was so easy allowing the warmth to coat their little bubble.

Except it was not a bubble of theatrics. She was not pretending to be Mrs. Jeon anymore. She was a fashion designer with her boutique and Jungkook was a regular man trying to get by in the city. They were two normal people with no real threat to be together but they were here.

The ache between her legs still pulsed a little when she remembered the night before.

The very minute she resorted to hugging him, Belle knew it was going to be difficult to turn back from it. Deep recesses of her mind surfacing up to whisper in her ear that it would be okay just this once.

To feel him again.

To have his head between her legs at this moment, kissing and nibbling on all her sensitive nub while his fingers pads dug into her thighs. Jungkook took his time. Licking a stripe tantalizingly slow, tasting her juices until it was the only remnant on his tongue. He let out a breath through his nose as his lips wrapped fully around her clit, suckling passionately until her thighs closed up around his head only making him moan.

Belle whined against the vibrations on her aching, sensitive skin as her fingers found themselves knotting in his hair. Chest rising and falling she faced the ceiling. Lower belly burned and tightened as Jungkooks’ movement did not falter, shaking his head a little to jolt more of that head-spinning heat.

…

Bed creaked as Belle straddled him, bouncing at a steady pace while her hands rested on his torso. Moonlight painted her sweat glistening skin through the window. As if the whole city could see her relishing in her own guilty pleasure. Except the guilt was nowhere to be found.

His hand trailed up her abdomen to cup her breasts gently, digging a little into her tender skin to earn a small whimper from the woman. Then he moved up to her neck. Jungkook cupped the side, thumb tracing her bottom lip while the other hand gripped at her shaking hips.

Belle suckled on his digit muffling her moans all the while clenching tightly around his member until it sent shivering tingles up her spine. She hummed in satisfaction as Jungkook groaned at the pressure.

“You feel so good.” He pushed in his thumb a little further watching her slightly drenched curls fall over her face. A smile curled up at the corner of his lips hearing the sinfully loud squelch sounds their thrusts emitted. “So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook whispered. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, wanting to take every second of how she tried to suck on his skin harder every time she dropped down roughly.

“I’m close.” Belle’s words were a little muddled against his thumb. Her thrusts grew desperate and relentless, pussy squelching violently as their incessant moans swirled in the sex scented air.

Bursts of searing heat and unbridled pleasure shook through their limbs, pulsing through her veins as Belle’s movements became sloppy. Jungkook had his head pressed deep against the pillow as his muscles tensed feeling her walls clench around him before he pulled himself out, release spewing out onto his belly. Belle cheekily reached down to touch his reddened member, giggling lightly when he jerked against it.

Jungkook followed with a breathless chuckle of his own as she rested back on his chest, uncaring of how messy they were.

It was the first time they laughed after sex.

Granted it was not much but last night gave her a dreamless sleep. A welcomed type of sleep. They cried, hugged, moaned and laughed. So many sensations all at once was bound to make anyone have such a deep sleep that they do not want to wake up the next day. A wonderful feeling. It would be temporary before her other dreams settle in again but Belle was not going to let them get to her this morning. She wanted to relish in this new, momentary peace.

Jungkook began stirring more, light hum under his breath until he finally opened his eyes to a calming sight. Tired vision still a little blurred but he could always make out her face. “Sleep well?” His voice grumbled despite the smile creeping on his lips.

Belle turned to meet his gaze, mimicking his gentle smile. “Really well.” The curl slowly disappeared from her lips as reality seeped through their comfort. “We can’t see each other anymore. You know that, right?”

He nodded although solemnly. “I know.” Whatever red string they forced themselves to tie around their pinky finger had to separate one day. Even when reluctance settled in. “Like you said, love shouldn’t be as difficult as ours was.” Jungkook shifted so he lay down his back, one arm curled so he could rest his head on top of it.

“I don’t have to leave now though.”

“What, you want more?” Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek as a smirk formed, one of his hands reaching out to gently touch her lower belly.

Belle pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “No…I meant something else.” She pulled the sheets up to cover herself a little, goosebumps forming on her skin when the room brushed a little cold. “Ice-cream. We could get ice-cream.”

A jolt of nostalgia burst through him as he remembered the last time that request was passed between them. Despite expecting a child back then, Jungkook preferred this more knowing Belle was sitting here by her own volition. That was what mattered most. “Yeah…we can get ice-cream.”

-

Tiny slab of pink and mint down the food line of the city. Belle somehow managed to make his black T-shirt and her sweatpants look strangely put together while he buried himself in his hoodie. They walked inside the cute parlor immediately greeted by a kind boy at the counter.

Making their orders, the couple took their ice-cream cups to a booth at the corner.

Thankfully the parlor was empty since no one bought ice-cream this early in the morning so it would be difficult for them to be spotted.

Journalists eventually grew bored of doing stories on Jungkook and Belle’s ‘tragic love story’ but she knew the moment, a single person saw them, it would be chaos.

“Did you have any trouble these few years?” Jungkook asked feeling a sense of joy in his mouth as the sweet taste touched his tongue.

Belle shrugged lightly. “Apparently there was a hired hitman for a while but he was quickly detained. Then a stalker which lasted for a few months.”

“What did he want?”

“Namjoon found out he was a spy for a gang called Pogpungu Pa.”

“Fucking tongue twister.” Jungkook scoffed. “They wanted a large percentage of my cocaine supplies in exchange for prostitutes.” He waved his spoon. “Told him I didn’t work in that line of business so the Don got pissed.”

“Well he’s also detained. Namjoon’s been very quick in dealing with them. Probably happy to be out on the field again with Yoongi still at his desk.” Belle suckled the remnants of brownie bits from her spoon.

“Why is he at his desk?” His brows furrowed.

“Standard procedure, I guess. Every detective is meant to have a few months of therapy and leave from field work. But I’m pretty sure it’s a new thing that the mayor advised.”

“They’ve been doing a lot of things.”

“A lot of good things.” Belle corrected, narrowing her gaze even though her expression was not completely serious.

Jungkook smiled lightly picking up another small scoop of his ice-cream. “You’ve been doing a lot of good things. The Tokyo fashion week.”

Her eyes almost immediately lit up when the topic was mentioned and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel accomplished that he initiated it. “You knew about that?”

“Saw it in the newspaper. It looked good.”

Belle grinned from ear to ear, eyes shining in the bright lights of the parlor. “Angel helped me with the movement. She wanted to create a shelter for domestic violence victims like her. So I offered to promote it in the fashion shows.”

“Oh yeah Hoseok told me…Taehyung and Angel, they have a kid, right?”

“Yeah…” She giggled lightly. “A little baby daughter.”

“That’s good.” Jungkook nodded with a wide smile. “He’s all okay now?”

“Clean and sober for four years. He—relapsed another time but when they got married and then started trying for children, he never went back again.” Belle murmured still remembering the happiest look on Taehyung’s teary eyed face when he first held his baby. That was all she ever wanted for her brother. True happiness. “I kind have you to thank for that.”

He hummed in disapproval. “Don’t, please—the way I did it was wrong.”

“Yes but everything happens for a reason. I think if that didn’t happen…he might not be here at all.” Belle shook his head. “He also did technically meet Angel in the Sangria House. The only reason we even had her booked was because I met Seokjin at the party with you.”

Strange how time fools you in that way. It makes you feel regretful of the bad things that happened in the past except you could not possibly take them back because it would mean diminishing the good things along with it. Delicate and strange thing time was.

“I would’ve never been free from that place if you didn’t go behind my back.” Jungkook smiled down at the cup. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“Speaking of which…how is it like being a normal joe in the city?” Belle asked with a cheeky glint in her eye as she tapped her fingers against the ice-cream cup.

“Apparently you have to pay for grocery bags now.” He waved his spoon around.

“Yes for recycling and it’s been happening for a very long time.” She smiled.

His bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. “Not from what I remember.”

“Since when have you ever shopped for groceries?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose a little poking into the mint chocolate ice cream to pick out the chips. “Since yesterday.” He mumbled. “But I’m happy…” He nodded letting his words linger in their comfortable silence. “Or at least now I can do things that make me happy.”

“You could travel to Tokyo and Paris, eat ice-cream until your stomach aches…” Belle grinned. “You can get married to someone you love dearly and have lots of children. No more deals though.” She raised her index fingers as a warning.

Jungkook laughed. “No more deals, I promise.” He mixed around his melting ice-cream for a bit enjoying the little swirl. “What about you? What’re you going to do?”

“My therapist said I should take some time off from the boutique when I get the chance.” Belle quoted her therapist mostly but she never really thought about the prospect on her own until she discussed it with Yoongi. “Yoongi suggested we could go to Norway to disconnect for a little while.”

“Yoongi…wait, are you two—”

“No, silly. As friends.”

“Ah.”

“You think if I had a boyfriend like Yoongi, I’d sleep with you again?” Belle scoffed even though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey I’m pretty tempting.”

“Not that tempting.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose at her before chuckling as he practically slurped on his ice-cream at this point.

The couple sat in silence for a few moments finishing their breakfast desserts, unable to keep smiles off their faces.

“We go our separate ways now, yeah?” He spoke the truth this time. The satisfaction in his belly along with the warmth in his heart softly stating to him that it was time.

Belle smiled, a slight twinge in her chest but nothing compared to the relief brewing inside. A whisper in her ear telling her it was okay. It was okay to move on. “Yeah. No more looking back.”

Throwing their empty ice-cream cups away, the pair walked out of the parlor towards Belle’s car. Jungkook’s apartment was a few minutes’ walk away. She wanted to drive because it made it that little bit easier to go back home immediately. At this point, they both deserved one thing to be easy.

Belle gave him one final smile before climbing into the car and driving away.

Jungkook didn’t wait a second as he turned on his heel and walked back to his apartment.

This was the true final time they saw each other. They would not turn back. There was no need to anymore.

-

As soon as Jungkook walked into the room, it smelled a whole lot more different than it did the first time. The only smoke emitting was from the pan exuding a warm, delicious scent. Morning sun beaming through the windows making it look a tad bit brighter and the floors almost shone clean now.

“There you are!” Hoseok announced with a grin. “Did you go out for a jog?”

“Yeah…a little bit.” He answered absentmindedly.

A figure with short, black hair stood at the kitchen counter setting some bacon and eggs up on the plate. She looked up and immediately give him a similar bright smile as Hoseok.

“Ah—this is Rosyne.” Hoseok touched the womans’ shoulder. “Rosyne, Jungkook.” He gestured over to the younger male.

The two exchanged greetings before Hoseok invited him over to the kitchen counter to have breakfast. He wanted to tell them that his stomach was a little full from the ice-cream. But it felt so peaceful when he saw the giggles shared between them while eating, random conversations that no one really cared about but it made them smile.

Jungkook stayed still for a moment watching them so easily be vulnerable and happy around each other. “Hey, you guys want to go to Paris?” He sat down on one of the stools.

Rosyne’s eyes widened a little as the request lingered in the air while Hoseok looked amused but taken aback at the same time.

“Why the sudden interest?” Hoseok chuckled, sticking his fork into some scrambled eggs.

He shrugged. “Might be cool to disconnect for a little while.”

“Prison wasn’t disconnecting enough?”

Jungkook nudged his arm with a light scoff. “You know what I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve—always wanted to see the Louvre in real life.” Rosyne raised her shoulders, giving Hoseok an adorable smile.

“Don’t spoil him, Ros.” Hoseok glanced at the both of them for a few moments before letting out a defeated sigh. “We’ll think about it.”

Jungkook did not argue any further after that and began taking careful bites of the breakfast even though it might give him a stomach ache later. The thought of something actually exciting happening this year or the next year made him happy enough to keep going on this new life.

-

Carefully padding into the apartment, Belle’s footsteps were soft and barely echoed across the walls but there was no use in being discreet. Especially since Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon and Angel were all in the sitting room. Bloom sat on the floor completely focused on banging her little drums that Namjoon gifted her on her first birthday.

Once Angel looked her way, everyone else followed suit. Yoongi was the first one to shoot up to his feet and stomp towards the woman.

“What took you so long?” Yoongis’ words sounded more like pleading than anger. “Are you hurt?” Eyes frantically examined her body until his gaze darkened as he stopped at her neck.

Belle hovered her hand over the patch of skin that definitely had a few purpling marks scattered but she kept a calm expression. “Everything’s fine, okay? Nothing happened.”

“No something happened.”

“Yoongi, fuck off.” Namjoon grabbed his shoulder and led him to the side. “Good to have you back in one piece, B.”

As the two men sat near the paneled windows muttering a few things to each other, Belle caught another figure coming towards her from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath keeping her gaze on her brother.

Taehyung looked so much taller now. Loose emerald shirt with golden vectors as opposed to the old black hoodies, his eyes were a little darkened from exhaustion but this time it was to take care of his baby rather than an accidental bender. The serious expression on his face added more to the fact that Belle had her older brother back. He was sturdy in his appearance and confident in his stance. The look of a man who had gone through a tunnel of hell and found happiness at the end of the trail.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

“Pretty civil…” Belle nodded, playing with her fingers a little. “…considering the circumstances.”

Taehyung hummed in approval. “That’s good. And that?” He waved his index finger across his own bare neck while looking at hers. “Good or bad?”

“Good.” She smiled faintly. “Really good.”

He grimaced a little. “Gross.”

“Shut up.”

Taehyung could not seem to keep his serious expression as a light chuckle broke out of him, shifting on his spot to loosen up. “But—no more, right? We’re gonna try to get back up again? Start over?” He would be the last person to ever judge Belle for her impulses. What he did know is that the impulses were not meant to be a constant.

Belle did not hesitate to nod. “I uh—I wanted to go to Norway. With Yoongi…” She glanced over to the side seeing Yoongi give her a more apologetic look which the woman smiled in response. “And maybe you guys too? Get away from the city for a while.” She shrugged. “Might even give me inspiration on the new line.”

He thought on the idea for a moment but quickly had a wide grin on his lips. “Angel’s been talking about going on a holiday. We could talk about it over breakfast.”

“Let me just go freshen up.” Belle patted him on the shoulder before making her up the top level of the apartment to her bedroom.

Being the owner of a prestigious boutique came with its perks when she managed to get a big enough apartment for three people including safety for children. It was in the highly populated areas of the city which is meant to be the best area for the position they were in. With Angel’s first husband and Belle’s connection to the Jeon Cartel, the more witnesses around them, the better.

Walking into her bedroom, Belle had one thing in mind before going to shower as she opened her walk-in closet. On the top shelves a box had been hidden under some folded sheets. She reached out and pulled it towards her feeling the light trickle of dust flow through the air making her sneeze.

Sniffling a little she brought the brown box and sat down on the bed with it. Belle paused for a moment, a very light tinge of dread brushing through her but there was a strength that seemed to power through it. Taking a deep breath she clicked open the box. Two tiny yellow shoes on the right hand side causing her to let out a shaky sigh, smiling a little as a few tears filled her eyes.

Belle held the shoes gently, hugging them to her chest before placing them on her lap. Then her eyes moved from the bracelet to the piece of folded paper. The warmth in her belly soared again taking the letter, unfolding to reveal the heavy promise scratched across the surface. The promise that kept her up at night for this many years. How much words could impact a mind was both fascinating and terrifying.

No more though. It was time. Something her therapist said to her in one session Belle would never forget.

It’s never about one solid destination of healing. You will never know exactly when you were healed. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important. After that, everything will flow by you…in the future, it will all seem like a dream. But you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you look back, Belle. Even more proud than I am of you now. You’ve done so well and I hope you’ll keep healing.

Belle placed her fingers at the top of the letter and ripped it half, letting out a deep of relief as she put them together, ripping it again. Smaller and smaller the pieces became breaking off like petals from the already withering flowers in her heart. A smile widened on her lips as she let out something in the mixture of a chuckle and a sob, tears freely leaving her eyes. Teeny tiny pieces piled on the bed. Helping to remind her that they were just words after all.

With steady hands she gathered them together and threw it into the bin under her nightstand.

Then Belle took the yellow shoes and walked to the living room.

The group were already settling around the kitchen counter when she arrived. Angel had Bloom in a high chair feeding her some custard looking mush which she seemed to enjoy though slightly confused by the taste.

Belle walked over to where the child was and gently placed the yellow shoes on her socked feet. She could not help but grin seeing how it fit perfectly. Everything happens for a reason.

“Those are beautiful.” Angel gently touched the soft fabric. “Did you make them?”

“I got them from the market years ago.” She softly brushed through Blooms’ thin dark hair as the child tried to peek at what her aunt put on her feet.

“We were just talking about the trip to Norway.” Taehyung spoke up leaning against the counter next to Angel.

“Yeah, why was I not invited?” Namjoon pouted a little.

Belle stammered, chuckling lightly. “It was Yoongi’s suggestion…we can all go together. I thought you wanted to do field work for the rest of the year.”

“Still would’ve liked to be included.”

Bloom squeaked in response to Namjoon’s mumble, bouncing up and down her seat.

“Might need a babysitter if Taehyung wants to get laid.” Yoongi mused.

“Ah, language.” Angel covered Blooms’ ears but the baby only grinned wide looking at Yoongi.

“She’s not going to know what it means.”

“Listen, we’ll go together.” Belle silenced the group for a moment. “Namjoon forgets to take breaks from work anyway so it’d be a good way to force him out somewhere relaxing.”

“Norway does have a low crime rate.” Taehyung spoke.

“So it’s settled. We’re going to Norway and forget about our problems for a month.” Angel announced glancing at each one of them for a nod of approval.

Belle grinned seeing the group dive into their conversations about what to do in Norway and what hotels to book or the sights to see. No worries of any impending problem or event that could ruin everything. It was just peace in the loudest way possible. All you can know is when you decide to start or keep healing. That is what’s important.

She broke for her family once.

Now she was going to keep healing for it too.

<< PREV CHAP 

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

[aubreyprc]

enough for you

part 2 of the sour series

for @eprcntiss who asked for hotchniss s7+ with the lyrics below:) if you have any requests feel free to message/ask💗💘💗💓💖

Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

But don't tell me you're sorry, boy

Feel sorry for yourself

'Cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else

ao3

-

It’s him who makes the call, letting her know she’s able to come home, that they have Doyle in custody and that they need her help to find Declan, and the moment he hears her voice it’s almost as though his anger fades away, no longer holding onto a grudge that felt more like an ulster in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that sent him all the way to Pakistan in hopes to outrun it.

“I’ll see you soon.” She says quietly and he can feel his heart beating harshly against his ribcage at the thought of seeing her again, of holding her in his arms.

“I’ll see you soon.” He replies in a similar tone, words he’d been dreaming of telling her for the last ten months falling from his mouth so casually that he almost can’t believe they’re true.

He waits, then, for her arrival, the feeling in his stomach turning from anguish to nerves, the aspect of having her back feeling almost overwhelming as he forces himself to take controlled breaths, his mind running wild with scenarios about the teams reaction to his and JJ’s lie, if they’d understand and accept or see it as a betrayal.

He always thought when he saw her again it would be earth shattering. That the painful ache in this chest would dull, that the stab like feeling in his stomach would disappear and he’d feel whole.

It doesn’t turn out that way.

He sees her the moment she enters the BAU, and all he feels is betrayal, anger, hurt. The ache in his chest doesn’t settle but rather increases, the pain in his stomach worsens and he feels almost nauseous as she stands in the door way, her dark eyes burning into his and nothing feels the way it should. The way he expected it to. And he knows she’s seen it on his face when she looks to the floor, exhaling a small breath before looking back to the team, avoiding his eyes completely as she flushes away any dream of them that she may have been holding onto from her mind.

He avoids her for the rest of the day, working quickly to save the young boy she gave up her life to protect and once mayhem is over, all that’s left is the repercussions of the last ten months for everyone. He sends her a small smile as she stands with the rest of the team and the sad one he gets back is like a punch in the gut, a reminder that there’s a conversation to be had between them, and something inside of him knows it’s over.

It was over the moment she went to Boston.

It was over the moment she lied.

Staring out of the window of the hotel room, Emily sighs. Her mind running constantly around the last ten months, about Ian, about Declan, about the team, about Aaron. About her and Aaron.

She turns to the door at the quiet but firm knock, her entire body tensing as she does, her breath catching in her chest as terror clouds over her, still not entirely over her three month ordeal with Ian before Boston. She takes small steps, grabbing her gun from the draws next to the bed and once she’s at the door, reaches for the handle, cursing the lack of a peep hole on the door as she opens it slowly, before signing in relief and dropping her head as she’s met with Hotch.

“You scared the life out of me.” She tells him, stepping aside to let him pass.

“Sorry.” He says, watching with a frown as she drops the gun back into the draw and forces her body to relax. “I… Thought we could talk?” He suggests to her, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets as his eyes flick around the room, searching for anything to look at expect for her and she swallows, accepting the end before he’d even spoken as she nods her head.

“Sure.” She smiles sadly, watching as he runs through his words in his mind before he speaks.

“You could have told me,” he whispers sadly to her and she drops her head once again. “I could have protected you, we could have figured something out-”

She shakes her head, “I couldn’t.” She whispers, looking at him and finding his hurt eyes staring back at her. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if you got hurt because of me. Because of my past. I did all of it alone because I had to, to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.”

“We had something, Em.” He says as she looks at her, “Something great, and…” He stops himself, shaking his head as flashes of their short lived time together passes through his mind.

“I know,” she agrees sadly, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head at her apology, before looking at her and clearing his throat.

“Me too.” He whispers.

They stand in silence for a few moments, before she takes a small step towards him.

“Is this is?” She asks softly, the sad tone to her voice one he never wanted directed at him.

“It has to be.” He says, holding back the crack in his voice as he swallows the lump settling in his throat. “You’ve been through so much in the last ten months and you should be focusing on yourself right now, and…” He stops, looking at her sadly, “I can’t trust you.” He whispers, “how am I supposed to know this won’t happen again? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to settle down with you after this.”

She nods her head, accepting it and just when she thinks he’s about to leave, walk out of the door and take her heart with him, he stops, cupping the side of her face with his hand, running a thumb across her cheek before kissing her slowly, locking into memory the feel of her lips against his, and then he’s gone, the sound of the door echoing behind him as she places a finger to her lips, closing her eyes as tears fall freely from them, running down her cheek like rain as heart crumbles to pieces in her chest, the pain almost knocking her to the ground as she drops to the bed, the feel of his hand of on her cheek now feeling like the touch of a ghost.

Everything shifts after that.

He’s cold with her, doesn’t talk to her unless it’s case related, doesn’t even look in her direction unless he has to and it’s as if they were never anything at all.

She’s heartbroken, still trying to put herself back together after the events of the last year and something she’d always counted on was having him. A friend she could go to that would understand, that would relate to her in some way, his experience similar to hers and yet, she gets nothing. No support, no advice, nothing. He simply acts like she doesn’t exist and if she didn’t think that she deserved it, she’d probably say something.

But she does deserve it. He should be angry at her, it’s her fault anyway, and so she lets it slide, accepts that this is where they are right now and tries to pretend like his cold shoulder isn’t killing her.

It’s takes him almost two months to speak to her alone, to ask her how she is and as they chat, she wonders if maybe this is where they draw a line under everything and move forward, if this is where the two of them can start again.

Her thoughts are quickly proven wrong.

“I don’t care that you’re lying to your therapist.” He tells her, closing her file as her eyes snap up to his, her heart sinking in her chest at his words. “I care how it effects your job.”

She stares at him, before rolling her lips, swallowing down the hurt before looking back up.

“It won’t.” She smiles, watching as he nods his head and she clears her throat as he makes her promise him something.

As she promises, half of her thinks that maybe this is way of saying he cares, but that feeling is overshadowed by the part of her thinks this is his way of making sure she can do her job, that he doesn’t care how she is and why should he? Her mind clouds over with the idea that maybe he never did care about her. She feels used as she replays their nights together on a loop in her head, only to be brought out of her thoughts by Morgan’s laugh on the other side of the jet where the team all sit, a team she no longer feels apart of.

She finds out about Beth just four days later, overhearing Dave tease him as she walks past his office and it almost stops her in her tracks, only to be hurried along by Penelope who walks behind her.

It’s at the marathon that she meets Beth for the first time, and with jealously she watches him be open with her around the team, kissing her softly as she cups his jaw with a smile, resting his hand around her waist while they talk to Dave and Morgan and as she watches him place a kiss on her head before grabbing Jack she realises that they were never like that. He wanted them behind closed doors, a secret that should never be spoken of, keeping her at arms lengths unless they were confined between the four walls of hotel rooms or her apartment. She turns away with a deep breath as it hits her in full blast that he did use her, and maybe if everything with Doyle didn’t happen, he would have dropped her anyway.

She tells him she’s leaving at JJ’s wedding, the two of them alone in Dave’s living room as he stares blankly at her.

“You’re leaving? The BAU?” He questions and she laughs.

“The country, actually.” She tells him and his eyes widen. “Clyde offered me a job at Interpol. One I can’t say no to.”

“I don’t understand?” He frowns, “I thought you found your footing here again? I thought you…”

“I did…I have. But, it’s different.” She tells him, “Nothing feels the same anymore.”

“You need to give it time-”

“I’ve given it time, Aaron.” She tells him sadly, “I need to do this.”

“Why?” He asks, “You just got back-”

“I can’t sit and watch you and Beth play happy families and act like it isn’t killing me, Aaron, okay?” She confesses, “It’s too hard.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” She smiles, “I’m happy you’re happy I just… I need to go and find mine.” She tells him and he looks at her, “I can’t stay here…I need a fresh start. Nothing feels right here anymore. Not with you. Not with them. Not with me.” She finishes quietly, looking to the floor.

“I’m sorry-” He says again but she cuts him off, holding her hand up.

“Stop. It’s okay.” She tells him, smiling before walking away, his eyes burning a hole into the back of his skull as she holds back her tears.

She leaves that next week, and he doesn’t even give her so much as a goodbye as the team see her off at the airport, Penelope looping her arm through her own with a smile before leading them away, not knowing that Aaron’s absence left her heart shattered on the airport floor.

It’s only when she meets Andrew Mendoza that she learns nothing that happened was her fault. That how she felt was valid and that Hotch should be been there for her, but wasn’t, that he had no right to make her feel the he did but most importantly she learns that she deserved better from him.

Andrew is sweet, he treats her well and respects her, makes her smile, laugh, buys her flowers and takes her on dinners. He shows her off to his friends and gushes about her to his family. He loves her unconditionally. Proud to be hers. Proud that she’s his.

(Something she isn’t sure Aaron ever was)

And so on a winters night, when snow falls onto her bedroom window, the sound of those three words being whispered into her hair as she lays in his arms, she smiles and for the first time, repeats them to someone she knows is the last person she’ll ever tell them too.

He comes back for Dave’s wedding, something he’d always promised his old friend he would do, and as he looks around the room he hopes to see her, to fix what was broken between them so long ago.

He wonders if they can fix it. If he can fix it. Take back all the things he did. Apologise for how he treated her, how he made her feel.

He hopes he can.

Those hopes, however, are crushed almost immediately when he sees her laughing with man he isn’t sure he’s ever seen before as she curls into his side, him still talking quietly to her as their smiles widen, their happiness hitting him like a harsh wave.

She turns her head slightly, before spotting him, and he feels sick that the mere sight of him is enough for her happiness to evaporate, her smile replaced with a sad expression, one that causes the man she’s with to follow her eyes, his expression darkening as they make eye contact. He notices the man move slightly before she grabs his hand, shaking her head as he looks at her and smiles to him, entwining their fingers together and it’s then he wishes he’d listened to Jessica and not showed up, sent Dave his condolences and a congratulations over the phone like he’d originally planned.

Dave grabs his attention then and he puts on a fake smile and hugs his smile old friend, pushing her to the back of his mind, but not for long, because an hour later he finds himself watching her again. Watching her dance with him, (Andrew, he learnt, when Dave had spoke of him) her happiness radiating off her body as the man smiles at her.

He watches them all night, the way they’re so clearly in love, how he shows her off, makes her blush, kisses her, touches her gently and every so often catches her staring back at him, before she’d look away, turning back to face Andrew, who rests a hand on her lower back.

He’s stood outside sometime later, enjoying the D.C air he didn’t realise he missed until he stood in it.

“Hey.” She says from the door, stepping out into the cool air to join him, drink in hand.

“Hey,” He smiles as she stands a mere three feet from him for the first time in years and god how much he wishes he could reach out and touch her. “It’s been awhile.” He says.

“Yeah well,” She laughs, “You did fall off the face of the earth.” She adds with a smirk, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Last minute decision.” He explains and she nods, sipping out of the champagne flute as she looks around the garden.

“He treats you well?” He asks because he has to. He has to know if she’s happy.

“Who?” She asks, looking back at him.

“The man you’re here with… Andrew?” He asks, watching as her face softens at the mention of him while she nods.

“He does.” She says with a smile that clenches around his heart.

“Good.” He tells her, “You deserve it.”

And she does, more than anyone he’s ever known.

“Yeah,” She whispers, “I should get back.” She says.

“Yeah,” He nods, “It was good too see you, Emily.” Hotch says and she nods, smiling up at him.

“You too, Aaron.” She says, “Don’t stay away so long next time.” She teases, before walking back in, smiling at Andrew as he slowly walks towards her, taking her hand before throwing an arm over her shoulder and he watches them go, a tear falling down his cheek just as an echo of her happy laughter hits his ears and he smiles sadly, wiping his face.

She finally means everything to someone, and how could he mad at that, when it’s all he’s ever wanted for her?

fin

#i hope this is what you had in mind bestie <333 #hotchniss fic #hotchniss #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #prendoza my beloveds<3 #criminal minds fic #my fics #hotchniss sour series

[adookina]

Bucky Barnes Imagines

Chapter 1

: NSFW A-ZChapter Text

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Bucky is truly a sweetheart after sex, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to his chest will checking to see if he left any bruises on you and if he sees bruises he will apologize while pressing a soft kiss against the bruise.

Not to mention he is a little bit clingy. Not that you mind at all.

Getting a warm washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you up.

He will also ask if you are alright, if he hurt you, if you need a drink or something to eat, he’ll also run you a bath, though you always persuade him to join you, which he does, giving you a massage in the bathtub which then leads to sex.

He even gets you a fresh pair of undies and clothes or pj’s. B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Bucky’s favourite body part of his has to be his thighs {thighs of betrayal}. He works hard on those thighs, his proud of them. You’re pretty sure he never skips leg day.

When you compliment him on his thighs he can’t help but blush and feel proud of his thighs.

When he sees you staring hungrily at his thighs he can’t help but feel proud of himself, smirking at you, as “you wanna ride my thighs don’t you doll?” he whispered seductively into your ear. Earning a moan from you while gasping out a “Yes. Please.” course Bucky would smirk even more at this.

Bucky loves all of your body, but his favourite has to be your legs.

He loves running his hands up/down your legs.

Leaving kisses on your legs.

He especially loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist/torso while you’s two are heavily making out.

He loves it when you wrap your legs around him while you’s are having sex too and more importantly when he is eating you out and you wrap your legs around the back of his neck, your thighs locking him in. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He will usually cum inside of you, when he pulls out of you he loves to watch his cum drip out of you.

He likes to cum in your mouth, seeing you swallow his cum makes him even hornier. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not really much a secret but he loves it when you ride him or his thighs and take control, he is honestly putty in your hands when you ride him. Seeing you bounce up and down/sinking onto his dick your head thrown back, and your boobs bouncing as well with your moves. While he grips either your thighs or waist or hips to steady you or hands resting on his chest. It really is captivating when you ride him.

He also loves it when you ride his thighs though that’s really not a secret…

This isn’t dirty but since there is a huge age difference/gap between the two of you, he kind of feels like you will leave him for someone who is in your age level or you will get bored of him and move on, one of the two.

His biggest fear is you leaving him and starting a family with another man a normal civilian man. He doesn’t know how bad the serum has messed him up. He can see it in your eyes that you want kids and it breaks his heart that he might not be able to give them to you. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

It’s no secret that Bucky was a ladies man back in the 40s, so he does have plenty of experience in having sex.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t learned a few techniques in the Modern day.

As for how many women he has slept with in the modern day it’s only been you.

He’s still trying to learn how to get the hang of using his metal arm/fingers during sex.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Without a doubt Missionary; reasons being he loves missionary is because he wants to see your facial expressions while he is making love to you, Not to mention a lot of eye contact with each other as he thrusts into you. Also gets to see you squirm and tremble underneath him, not to mention it also gives him easy access to kiss you as well and hold you close to him while pressing some of his body weight against you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

The first time you’s two had sex he has really serious and concerned, but as you’s two started having sex more often he loosened up and got goofy.

He is only serious when he is fucking you out of jealousy or anger. H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t even get regular haircuts for the hair on his head, so no he doesn’t groom down there, he doesn’t really care either… I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Bucky is normally rough and needy in the moment, though sometimes his touches can be gentle other times not so much.

He likes having you close to him as he thrusts into you.

He also kisses you a lot whether it’s on your lips, cheeks, your neck, the crook of your neck or the back of your neck, or your shoulders.

He will also hold your hand tightly as well.

Bucky likes to whisper sweet and dirty things into your ear as well . J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Bucky only masturbates when he is on missions or you are on missions.

He likes to masturbate in the shower or on the bed.

If it’s on the bed then he will lay back on the bed, using his hands he will slip them underneath the waistband of his jeans/or/sweats pulling them down until they were to his thighs, as well as his boxers, letting his aching member free.

He quickly grabs a hold of his shaft his metal hand grabbing his balls as he slowly starts to jerk himself off, letting out low loud grunts and groans.

He likes to take his time when he is masturbating.

Picturing yours and his last sexual encounter or you naked in general.

However, if it’s in the shower, he kind of likes to tease himself first before jerking himself off. When he does jerk himself off he uses his flesh hand to jerk himself off while resting his metal hand on the shower wall, Bucky groans, grunts and moans loudly in the shower, when he does cum he cums on the shower wall. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bucky likes to be called daddy and sir. Also has a huge praise kink as well, as well as a biting/marking and hair pulling kink, he loves to pull/tug your hair and he loves it when you pull his hair or run your fingers through his hair. Light bondage.  Voyeurism, he loves to watch you pleasure yourself.

Bucky likes to roleplay a lot.

Metal arm ink; It’s not really much his kink but it is yours, god you have a huge kink for his metal arm/fingers. Though he still worries about hurting you with his metal arm. L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

On the bed, he prefers to have sex on the bed since you’s two share it. Against the wall, even bent over the dresser or any surface he can find.

He definitely loves the shower, he loves pressing you against the wall as the water pours down on yours and his body.

The pool, but the last time you’s two had sex in the pool, Tony caught you’s in the act, giving you’s two a long ass lecture about how he uses the pool and so on that really dulled the mood, Bucky was about to kill him but you quickly stopped him. Though that doesn’t stop you’s from having sex in the pool again M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You, you are his motivation, whether you are wearing lingerie or some of your skin is exposed, or you wear an all too revealing dress it gets him turned on, it gets him going.

Dirty talk gets him turned on to.

Also hearing your moans, more importantly, is when you moan his name, “James.”, “Bucky.” either one or daddy, whenever you call him daddy, especially when you do it seductively it turns him on.

Bucky is competitive so whenever he wins it gets him going as well, especially if it’s against you. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Something violent, like choking and so on, he could never choke you or even think about choking you, no matter how much you beg him to choke you. He has nightmares just thinking about it. He doesn’t want to choke you to hard and kill you. He already has nightmares about the people he has killed when he was The Winter Soldier.

Also, he will never have sex with you when you are drunk.

He doesn’t like public sex either, he is very possessive he doesn’t want anyone seeing you naked. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

50/50, Bucky is a giver and receiver.

He loves giving you oral and eating you out, burying his face between your legs. When he uses his tongue and fingers at the same time it drives you over the edge.

He could eat you out all day, he loves the taste of you.

Bucky is talented at giving oral.

Staring at you as he pins your hips to the bed, as you quiver against him.

Your moans and gasps are like music to his ears.

He loves it when you tug and pull on his hair.

He loves it when you give him a blowjob the feeling of your warm and wet mouth wrapped around his cock, moving your head up and down, as your other hand cups his balls and massaging them.

He loves it, even more, when you swirl your tongue around on the tip of his dick before wrapping your mouth around his shaft.

Bucky can’t help but throw his head back, biting his lips as moans escape his mouth, his fingers raking through your hair and gripping it tightly.

He loves cumming in your mouth.

He feels guilty when you give him a blow job even though you insist you want to do it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s 50/50, depends on his mood. Some days he is fast and rough other days he is slow and sensual.

He is fast and rough when he is jealous and angry also when you’s two are having a quickie or a certain mission doesn’t go as he has planned then he will go fast and rough. Leaving marks on your neck and skin, while gripping your hips tightly leaving bruises there.

Though there are days when he is slow and sensual, normally when you’s two nearly lost each other in a mission or just some sort of insecurity or emotion, or if it’s after a romantic date, sometimes he is just randomly slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He prefers proper sex then a quickie, you, on the other hand, prefer both a quickie and proper sex, sex is sex. Though that doesn’t mean he hates them.

Bucky likes to take his time pleasuring you, he likes to see you tremble underneath his touch, but if you want a quickie and haven’t got time for proper sex then he will happily have a quickie with you.

The only times you’s two have quickies is when you’s are horny and need of a quick fix. That’s when you’s will find an abandon conference room or supply closet or an area that no one is in and have a quickie. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Depends on the risk, the only risks you’s two have had is being late for your briefings, meetings, and missions cause yous were too busy having sex.

Bucky knows what he likes and he knows what you like.

He doesn’t like switching things up or trying new things and if he does try new things then he would definitely not try anything that would hurt you.

He likes to pleasure you, he believes sex should be about pleasuring not hurting. It hurts him to see you getting hurt on missions so experimenting is so out of the picture.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Bucky can go all night long even through early morning without getting tired sure he will sweat but he wouldn’t get tired, you, on the other hand, get exhausted about four to five rounds. That’s when he knows to stop.

The first time you’s two had sex Bucky cum after about a few thrusts, since it’s been a long time since he had sex, he felt so embarrassed about it but you reassured him that it’s fine.

Bucky got into the rhythm of lasting longer when you’s two had more sex.

Bucky gets horny again after he finishes another round of sex. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Bucky doesn’t own any toys but you do, mostly a dildo, vibrator, and handcuffs.

He’s not really keen on them either, he prefers to satisfy you using his fingers, mouth, tongue, and cock. U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He knows he is a tease, though he tries to deny it and act all innocent or “I don’t know what you are talking about doll?” “What you are talking about doll?” the truth is Bucky is the biggest tease in the relationship.

He loves to tease you, he loves to watch you writhe and quiver under his touch.

His favourite place to tease you is in front of people. Especially in a meeting or briefing.

He will place his hand on your thigh and move it up, then moving to your waistband slipping his hand into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet core, as you bit your lip trying to stop the moans that escaped your mouth, that makes Bucky smirk.

He loves to smack your ass and whisper very explicit things in your ear while nibbling on it.

And if you are away on missions or he is or you’s are away from each other he will send you dirty messages.

Bucky loves to deny you of your orgasm too.

Before he eats you out he leaves hickeys on your thighs and inner thighs, paying attention to them than the place you want him too.

Just because he teases you doesn’t mean you don’t tease him, he gets teased just as much as he teases you. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s moans are quieter at first but they always seem to get louder.

He tries to keep it low but he can’t help but moan and groan a little too loudly.

He loves it when you moan his name and moans in general it praises/ encourages him.

He will always whisper dirty things into your ear or say it out loud.

He loves to praise you, “You feel amazing doll.” “You look so damn beautiful.” And so on. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It’s no surprise that the other Avengers and people have caught you and Bucky in the act. But when Shuri walked in on you’s two having sex it was the last thing she wanted to walk in on.

Bucky put his hand against your mouth, muffling the moans you were making as he thrusted into you again, pressing you closer to his body as he bounced you up and down.

“Sh doll, you have to be quite.” he whispered against your ear, making you let out a whimper, though his hand muffled the sound. You couldn’t help it you haven’t seen him in a while a long time, with you doing missions and him living in Wakanda, so when you visited him all the built up sexual frustration finally exploded. Plus it didn’t help that Bucky kept looking at you like he wanted to fuck you, licking his lips and eyeing your body up and down, basically eye fucking you.

Bucky let his hand slip from your mouth, replacing it with his mouth inside.

You felt your orgasm arise, Bucky let out a moan against your mouth, his hand grabbing the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

“Y/n, I can’t believe you come here and didn’t come to me first…” Shuri spoke, entering the hut that Bucky has living in, not that you and Bucky heard her.

Her happy expression dropped into a horrified one, she was about to something but instead let out a gasp.

“Oh my god.” Shuri squeaked out, making you and Bucky pull away from each other horrified expressions on your faces, you quickly scrambled off of him.

Bucky shielded you from her view hurryingly finding the blanket on the ground and handing it to you.

Shuri quickly turned around and walked out.

“I can never get that image out of my head.”  She basically yelled, as you quickly put your clothes back on.

“Well, that ruined the moment.” Bucky sighed, putting his clothes back on.

“Shuri…wait…” you shouted after her, chasing after her, while Bucky let out a groan. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Bucky is pretty thick and big. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Bucky has a very high yearning, it’s pretty high when he is around you, then he can’t help but be horny. You’s two have sex almost every day when you’s are around each other.

His sex drive is only high when he is around you.

However, if he is on a mission then it’s not that high, he masturbates when he is on a mission and he is horny for your touch. Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Bucky doesn’t fall asleep right away, in fact, he has a hard time falling asleep in general with nightmares and PTSD he prefers to watch you sleep for a while{in a non-creepy way of course}. Holding you close to his chest, as you rest your head on his chest. Massaging your back.

The sound of your breathing and heartbeat lures him into sleep, it always seems to calm him.

Bucky likes to confess his fears and feelings to you when you are passed out, playing with your hair while he talks.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader

[wings-of-a-storm]

I have a question. My favorite character is obviously Benji, but this season I started to get an ultimate rancidity of him.In the end I understood why he was acting like this, he has a PTSD because of dating Derek, his parents shitting him and alcohol and the accident. It's about the accident I wanted to know about, I didn't quite understand what this accident was and why he started drinking. I get upset that Benji's story is the least explored in the series, in my opinion, it should be explored more

Sorry for late reply to this, Anon! I know a few others already replied to this but I figure I’d still add my take into the mix for you. :)

I think many of us share your frustrations about Benji’s story being drip fed to us instead of being looked at more deeply. It’s a very interesting history so I really hope that in season three we might actually get a more decent look at it…

BENJI’S HISTORY / WHY HE STARTED DRINKING:

Throughout both seasons we learn that Benji has struggled with mental health.

In the most simplest of summaries: Benji struggled with internalised homophobia -- he hated himself for being homosexual and fought against it. He even experimented sexually with girls (which he briefly mentioned in S1), but in the end, he couldn’t deny that he was gay. But acknowledging he was gay and being able to accept it are two different things. He hated being gay.

In order to cope with that self-hatred and fear, he turned to alcohol to dull his reality and in turn everything he felt. He’s still learning to like himself even now in season two.

In Benji’s own words: “Before I came out, I was kind of a mess. I knew I was gay but I didn't want to be. So I drank. A lot. (1x07)” And: “Coming out was really hard for me, Victor. And it is still hard for me to be who I am. (1x05)”

BENJI’S CAR ACCIDENT:

Benji said that when he was younger, he drank 'a lot'. From that statement alone we can infer that he knew he was drinking more than his peers were. Most likely that went beyond social drinking -- he was probably also drinking by himself at any opportunity.

There is an age limit for drinking for good reason: our brains don’t fully develop until we are in our twenties, and as such, when we are younger we are more likely to make riskier choices. Adding alcohol into the mix is just asking for trouble -- as Benji found out when, one night, severely inebriated, he lost control of his vehicle (or misjudged his surroundings) and drove through/into a building. “One night I got super wasted and decided that I wanted Wendys real bad. So I took my Dad's car to the drive thru and that's exactly what I did -- drove through the Wendys. (1x07)”

That is some serious stuff right there! On so many levels!

Firstly the physical toll: he ‘totalled’ his dad’s car. To have a car written off as too smashed to be driven, that car had a huge impact! And not surprising since Benji said he drove through the building. Whether that was through glass or a into a sturdy wall, to crunch up the metal of his car, that is a massive hit. We don’t know the extent of his injuries (he just said he was ‘banged up’) but we do know that he was at the very least knocked unconscious and/or had a head injury from it (“Waking up in the hospital with my parents standing over me…” 1x07).

Secondly, the emotional toll: when Benji gained consciousness and woke up in hospital, he said he “realised that I could have died." (1x07) That is a very frightening thing to confront -- your mortality. It spooked him enough that it was the catalyst for his Coming Out. He didn’t want to die without “ever really being who I was” (1x07); to have only lived his life as a lie and not known his true self…

Most of us, I’d wager, haven’t had to confront our mortality at such a young age -- like truly confront it after going through a life-threatening experience. In that sense, he is on a different level to his peers and Victor -- a big part of his innocence has been broken and re-formed.

There is more to the emotional toll though -- not explicitly mentioned in canon but pretty much common sense:

The pain of recovery in hospital and at home (whatever “banged up” means, he was injured in some way)

The guilt of knowing his actions could have caused innocent people to have been hurt or killed. No one was hurt, he said, but just knowing they could have been is a really heavy thing to have on your conscience.

The stress of dealing with insurance (for the Wendys, for the car). He would have had to burden his parents with sorting that all out.

Police would have been involved to investigate the incident and lay charges. That’s pretty darn scary.

Losing his licence and thus part of his independence

Seeing the physical damage of the Wendys if he ever went past it again -- knowing he had done it, knowing he had been in the car that made that damage and reliving the knowledge he could have killed himself…

He was so ashamed by it all, he didn’t want anyone at school knowing about the accident or about his drinking that caused it. In 1x07 the school still didn’t know so he really guarded that secret hard.

There’s just so much heaviness linked to that accident. And Benji has only had one year to process all of that. On some level, that stuff has got to linger.

THE INITIAL AFTERMATH:

We learn that after the car accident, Benji was in an ever worse state of mind than when he was drinking his life away before it. His mother reveals: “After your car accident last year you were so hard on yourself and things were pretty dark for a while there. And you decided to put in the hard work [to go to AA and get better]. (2x07)”

Referring to Benji's post-accident self as being in 'a pretty dark place' is a pretty big alarm bell. His mental health sounds like it was pretty much destroyed. It is so hard to rebuild yourself after falling into such a dark well, but over the year he must have pulled himself back from the brink. That is so, so heavy!

It’s hard to gauge whether Benji chose to go to AA himself (which seems to be implied), or whether it was a condition of his charge through the police, but he went there none-the-less to change his life and learn healthier coping mechanisms to handle stress/his inner conflicts.

Something else worth noting is that, timeline-wise (as messy as that always is in LV), Benji was dating Derek through all of this. His one year anniversary with Derek was in S1 but his one year sobriety was only in S2. Who knows how that would have complicated things. He wasn’t Out to his parents or anyone but he was dating a (adult) man. So he was simultaneously hating that he was gay and drinking his mind blank but still dating a man. That is a super stressful and conflicting dichotomy that he was dealing with in amongst all this… (“It is still hard for me to be who I am.” 1x05)

THE MOST IMPORTANT INSIGHT FROM BENJI’S DRINKING AND AA:

It is so important to take time and realise what being in AA means about Benji: as a young teen, Benji self-medicated his way through his worsening mental health by drinking to handle stress and internalised homophobia. He didn’t have any proper methods of handling stressful situations. He is now having to unlearn those behaviours and learn new strategies through AA and his sponsor. But he has only been doing that for one year! That is a blip of time in the hourglass.

Now let’s look at the events of S2: Benji has been inundated with stress while still learning how to cope with it without drinking. And he’s had to learn and practise these new coping strategies while:

Being in high school

Holding down an assistant manager job

Watching his significant other being emotionally wrung out by his mother’s treatment of him; dealing with his own rejection and banishment from Isabel

Reliving both his own coming out stress and homophobic aggressions at school directed this time at his significant other

Trying to deal with the shame of being in AA and keeping that a secret from all of his peers at school

Like far out, that is a ton of stress! Anyone would crack under all of that, let alone a young and recovering alcoholic!

So yes, when faced with stressful situations, Benji is not always going to react in the right way or say the right things. He’s still learning how to do that with his sponsor and AA meetings. He might come off as ‘rancid’ in S2, but really he is just a kid who is struggling and trying to do his best.

#LV ask #Love Victor #LV S2 analysis #Benji Campbell

[shihalyfie]

🤔 What would've happened if someone else was the villain with a persona and not Ken? Like, i had this same talk with two different people in different years that the Kaiser was something only Ken made and no one else would've created it, that each character would have their own "original character". So I wonder what would've happened if either of the other five were the villains in the first cour while Ken were one of the new allies for Taichi.

(sorry, more If-scenario/AU questions haha 💦)

Like I said, I love these kinds of questions a lot because it's really fun to be able to do more speculative stuff, so please keep sending them!

I think the thing is that the entire existence of the Kaiser depends heavily on the context of Ichijouji Ken and his background -- the whole thing about having a "persona" in the first place ties heavily into his own hatred of his "true self" (note that he wasn't all that fazed about his identity being revealed as much as he legitimately wanted to replace the idea of "Ken-chan" with the "Digimon Kaiser"), his desire to do a world takeover ties into his lashing out and wanting control due to a perceived lack of it in his life, his ability to override his own empathy being based on his perception that nothing in the Digital World was “real”, and so on and so forth. Beyond the fact that their own respective "personas" wouldn't resemble the Kaiser much, it's difficult to even say whether potential villainous versions of the other Chosen would even pose threats in the same way even if you did similar Dark Seed-esque stuff in there. You might have to brainwash them entirely, but at that point that's just cheating.

Daisuke: It probably just wouldn't even happen! Even putting aside his pure-heartedness making it hard to imagine him getting to this point -- see Armor Evolution to the Unknown making it clear he can't really hide much about himself even if he wanted to, and Kiuchi herself saying that someone who lives like Daisuke probably could never become the Kaiser -- early-series Daisuke is just too wishy-washy and deferential to ever really succeed in trying to dominate anything. He'd probably shrink as soon as his opposition got threatening-looking enough, and any plans would end on the spot. You'd arguably do a better job trying to trick him into becoming someone else's minion than a head villain.

Miyako: Miyako's the kind of person whose excessive selflessness and empathy comes from the idea of how useful she is to others or how much of a burden she puts on them, so it's hard to imagine her turning villainous just because she tends to put all of that hatred on herself instead of lashing out. Much like Daisuke, you'd probably have to convince her to join a villainous side by convincing her that she's doing something to help.

Iori: Maybe if you wait a few years. Iori believes so much in societal propriety that he'll follow what others do as long as they seem respectable and older (note that while he believes in proper principles, he never forces nor expects his elders to completely adhere to them). You'd basically have to dull his sense of humility and curiosity about the world, then convince him to start imposing his will on others...and even if he did adopt a "persona", it'd purely be for the purpose of pragmatically hiding his identity than anything.

Takeru: Maybe the one you should be really scared of because of the fact it might actually be the easiest to make happen -- he's prone to lack of emotional control and is suffering his own form of trauma (I like to point this out a lot, but that infamous scene in 02 episode 19 embodies Takeru and Ken really doing the same thing: venting their trauma in unproductive, violent ways). Thing is, said trauma comes from his experiences in Adventure and his journey in the Digital World three years prior, so the desire to protect everything put him on the opposite side as the Kaiser. Maybe if you wiped his memories but somehow left the trauma? If he did adopt a "persona", it'd probably be somewhere between pragmatically trying to hide his identity and having something akin to a work-life balance; he's not the kind who has personal identity issues the way Ken did.

Hikari: The easiest way I could imagine is if you convinced her that everything is "for the greater good", and she'd basically be like one of those JRPG misguided evil clerics who think they're "saving" everyone. Of course, you'd have to flatten out her empathy for everything around her, which is hard to do, and like Takeru, she was on the adventure three years prior, so you'd have to wipe out her memories of that too. If she really believes in it, she'll stick to her stance, but while she's charismatic, she may not be the best at tactical planning or anything of the sort -- and especially when, in this theoretical situation, her own older brother, who is very good at tactical planning, would be on the other side -- so it's hard to say.

#shiha's ask box #tomorrows2top #shihaheadcanon

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae week Day 5 Sunny Days

It was as if everything was underwater, sounds were dull and yet somehow overpowering. It was as if someone had drunk goggles over her eyes and she felt like she was swaying and yet she was perfectly upright. She could see both everything and yet make absolutely no sense of it. Her body no longer felt like it was her own, like her soul was in the wrong body even though it was the only one she’s ever known. She felt like she was standing there for years when an emerald hand took hers and pulled her out of the darkness and into the sunlight. 

He was staring at her saying something, but she couldn’t comprehend what was being said to her for several moments. She desperately choked out an answer with a voice that felt like a stranger's. 

Garfield quickly led Raven out of the herpetology exhibit to find a more secluded area in the crowded Zoo. He scanned the area looking for at least one exhibit that didn’t have droves of people and finally found the perfect spot. 

Gar gently guided a silent and blank faced Raven by the elbow to the small bench a few feet away from the ostriches. Gar regarded them for a moment as they hissed and bit the fence at the changeling, craning their necks to try to stretch over the barrier. He cocked an eyebrow at them, he had respect for all wildlife being wildlife himself but ostriches...they were just so fucking stupid. These guys had apparently scared everyone in the zoo away from them with their aggressive behavior but Gar knew better, these ostriches were more likely to attack themselves in confusion than him or Raven. 

He sat down next to his speechless teammate, pulled the sunglasses off of his head and pulled his headphones out of his pocket. 

“Hey Rae, I’m gonna help you out of this ok? Here put these on,” he said, giving her the sunglasses and headphones, “ and I’m gonna put on your favorite song, and I don’t tell because I think I remember this time.” 

Raven wordlessly put the sunglasses on and placed the ear buds in her ears as the music started, 

If I could, I'd be your little spoon

And kiss your fingers forevermore

But, big spoon, you have so much to do

And I have nothing ahead of me

Raven’s eyes began to adjust to the sudden darkness of the sunglasses as she slowly turned inward on her own mind. 

You're the sun, you've never seen the night

But you hear its song from the morning birds

Well, I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star

But awake at night I'll be singing to the birds

 She felt like she was finally able to think for the first time since she entered the exhibit with the team. There was so much glowing light in the exhibit and so many people making so much noise and out of nowhere, she just felt herself slipping away. 

Don't wait for me, I can't come

Oh shit, this is the best part of the song, Raven thought now fully coming back into her body. 

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I think I do

And you're an all-American boy

I guess I couldn't help trying to be your best American girl 

  Satisfied and feeling much more secure after listening to the chorus, Raven took the earbuds out and turned to face her teammate. “Thank you, for whatever you just did. I’ve never had that happen before.” 

“Did you get overstimulated?” Gar asked, “because I’ve noticed before how when it gets too loud or things look messy and jumbled you get frustrated and start yelling. I figured you were gonna lose it in the herpetology exhibit with it being so packed and everyone so loud but instead you just kind of shut down and your eyes got all glassed over. So I got you out of there as quickly as I could.” 

Raven shook her head in shock at Beast Boy’s jumble of words. She didn’t realize he paid so much attention to her. “Do I really yell every time it gets loud?” 

“Not every time but a lot of the times, yeah.” 

A comfortable quiet moment passed between the two friends before Beast Boy spoke up again, “So were you dissociating or…” 

There was seldom a time that Gar used vocabulary that was outside of Raven’s grasp and this was one of them. 

“I’m sorry what?” 

“You know, dissociating. Like feeling disconnected to your body, you might have, like, an out of body experience…” 

Raven was floored, that was exactly what she had felt in the herpetology exhibit. 

“Yeah, how did you know?” 

Garfield knocked on the side of head with his fist, “That good ol’ ADHD of mine, likes to throw me in dissociative states out of nowhere all of the time. Some places more than others, specifically the grocery store.” 

Raven stared at Garfield shocked, “You mean you put up with this all of the time?” 

He shrugged in indifference. To him dissociating was just something that might happen that he just had to wait out, to Raven it was a horrifying experience, as having control over her body was imperative to her mental state. 

“So what? Does this mean I have adhd too?” Raven grumbled. 

“Ehh...you’ve only dissociated this one time, so I think it’s a little early, but if I had to take a guess, I’d say you probably have a good case of Sensory Processing Disorder.” 

Raven blinked at Gar, “Since when did you get so psychologically literate?” 

Beast Boy lightly punched Raven on the arm, “Since someone dragged me to a therapist after she could sense me going through a depression spell.” 

Color flooded Raven’s cheeks as she turned away from him, “Well you know, you have to take care of yourself Garfield.” 

Gar moved closer to her face as he hooked a finger under chin forcing her to look at him, “So do you, Raven.” 

Raven’s blush deepened as he stared into her eyes and passionate energy crackled between the two of them like electricity. The air between them turned warm and sweet like honey and the two wanted nothing more than to wrap themselves into the other's arms.  Raven was the first to break eye contact as she tried to regain her wits about her and Gar quickly broke the silence. 

“Here” he handed the headphones back to Raven, “Maybe you should just keep the Mitski on for the rest of the trip, to help keep you grounded.” 

“You’re not going to want to crack your lame jokes with me all day?” Raven deadpanned. 

“I can save my very hilarious jokes for another time, today you need Mitski.” he said, placing the ear buds back into her ears and throwing his arm over her shoulders. 

Raven’s blush returned but she settled into the embrace and the music. 

You're the one

You're all I ever wanted

I think I'll regret this

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I finally do

And you're an all-American boy

I guess I couldn't help trying to be the best American girl

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae fanfiction #also the song in the fic is called best american girl by mitski #it fucks so please give it a listen