#replying to comments is very important to me

[teaboot]

Question that I suspect is autism related

I have, on more than one occasion over multiple decades, been told that I “need to have the last word” and that I “have a response for everything”.

Additionally and in a similar vein, I’ve been told that “everything is an argument with you” and I “always have to say something”.

When I was a little kid I was bad at conversations. People said stuff I had no opinion on or didn’t need follow-up and so I wouldn’t answer and they’d get bored. And eventually through trial and error I figured out that if someone said something to me, all I had to do was say something related back, and the interaction could go on as long as it needed to.

But then as a teen- and now as an adult- a number of people (mostly people I’ve found to be very delicate and particular about things in a sort of need-to-be-in-control authoritarian way) have expressed the identical observation about how I naturally try to converse, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

And the thing is, I have a sibling that talks like this too. We bicker all the time. He changes his own opinions seemingly at a whim for the purpose of being contrary, and it’s impossible to make a statement or observation out loud without him contradicting it, and even when he is demonstrably, factually wrong about something, he will dig his heels into the dirt and defend his stance to the grave.

And like. I hear myself responding, or adding on to people’s comments, but I don’t hear the ‘arguing’ they describe, or the contrarian habits of my sibling. Even when I’m paying attention and being bery careful not to follow up too much or speak too often or disagree or correct something that isn’t important, I get called out for “picking a fight”. They say something, I answer, they reply, I continue, then seemingly out of nowhere they snap. I think everything’s fine until suddenly it isn’t.

And so I guess my question is, how can you tell if you’re a contrary sort of person? How can you tell when to respond or follow up on a person’s statement and how do you know when to leave it in silence? Does everybody see me this way, and is it only people who are already short-tempered who are willing to say it?

I honestly don’t really have that much to say, and half the time I don’t even really want to talk at all, but I’ve been told countless times that I “just seem to like the sound of your own voice” and have to just be “tuned out after a while”. So if it isn’t necessary and I don’t even want to, why am I doing it?

Is there a reason I’m like this? Why is my sibling like this? How do I stop talking when there’s nothing to say, and how can I tell the difference between a conversation and an argument before the other person visibly snaps?

I’m a full grown adult

[theotherrookie]

"Then they wonder why kids hate schools." Erica grumbled, "I bet they still tell the story of what you did! That guy must be scared of mops too now."

It still wasn't as satisfying as the guy getting skewered or having the mop broken over his head, but it was enough to get the point across.

"You hardly have the need to go unnoticed, Travis. One look at you is enough to discourage many from trying their luck." Willow pointed, "Erica was raised to hunt. It's only natural for her to be conspicuous despite her wardrobe."

"Yeah, sometimes I scare people by accident." Erica confirmed. Perhaps that choice of words was by accident as well. "If those were the second and third, what was the best news you got?"

"The afterlife is extensive. However, she most likely wouldn't mind making an attempt." Willow reassured, "Mother likes you as well as your brothers. That means her usual attentions will be extended to you all as well."

The need for closure would move the ghost lady most of all. Veronica would have agreed in a heartbeat, if only she still had a heart.

Willow considered her options, before tapping into the radio again. The car lacked the charm and bite of the real deal, but she hoped Travis was familiar with KITT. She hated wasting a good reference.

"Come on, Travis! You can't leave me hanging like this. I'm a marvelous car, but I can't do all the heavy lifting myself. That's your specialty."

Erica's ears perked up. "I know that voice! It's that talking car who hung out with that guy from SpongeBob!"

Willow smiled as she tossed her hair back, "I felt like going for a classic this time."

It seemed like these were typical shenanigans between the two of them.

The pocket dimension was very barren, but was far from still. The fog quietly parted as they walked, flowing all around them like an intricate network of streams. It was something Rook found calming in small doses, though her attention was focused elsewhere.

"There's no ugly moquette or buzzing lights either." Rook added, "It can be too quiet at times. Not that hearing distant noises would be any better. I guess it's good for reading, Antonio can probably attest to that. Or not– I'm still waiting for your review of your stay in my liminal closet."

It seemed like a nice way to divert the attention away from some rather unpleasant memories. That wasn't the time or place to start that argument and most of all, she didn't think Lucien should have been present to provide his opinion on the matter. The fae could be awfully unhelpful at times.

Though Bill was being just as helpful, in his own way. Veronica hadn't meant to follow up on her threat, but now she simply had to.

"Too many underestimate the importance of sound values when parenting." Veronica paused, her gaze trailing over at the inevitable duck comment, "You're simply hopeless."

And about to take a ride in the hard to discern void slide. Rook wasn't the only one able to mess with gravity there. Bill could take a ride and think about the consequences of his own actions.

Lucien was simply glad he wasn't the one falling into oblivion. He would simply turn the other way and let Rook have her moment of privacy so she could replenish her magic battery.

"Oh, I see you started synthesizing gold." he told Veronica.

"It's an old family recipe." Veronica replied, "It's a shame we can only use it sparingly these days."

Rook could do nothing but stand for a moment to watch the way everybody was ready to give her some space. It meant more than she was willing to admit. Then again, she never got too sentimental when her marks whenever she started feeling drained.

Rook silently turned and took a few steps away from the group, before there was a shift in the pocket to reveal one of the few monsters she had the time to catch lately. It looked like a hybrid between some kind of reptile and a rodent with a mantis-like head. It didn't really matter what it was or where it came from. She had found it trying to eat some poor schmuck and it had almost slashed her wing off with its claws. Now it was going to do something useful for a change.

"Imagine if Five found you instead." She would probably be starving. There was another shift as a bright light engulfed the monster, before it vanished into a swirly cloud of energy that was absorbed by her marks.

Rook took a moment to simply breathe, before turning back. "I… I'm done."

She didn't want to drag this on to avoid making it more awkward than it was.

Erica, of course, couldn't do anything but cheer at that. "Heck yeah! That guy deserved all the bruises he got."

Somebody had to stand up for children. It was nice of Travis to take the matter into his own hands.

"It sounds like willow and I." Erica said, before she pointed to her double, "She scares people just by standing around and nobody ever hears me coming!"

Both taking great pleasure from the effect they had on people. Willow's attention briefly shifted to the car as Travis got it started and listened to the noise of the engine just a moment before losing interest. Disappointing like its former owner. She might let the others keep this one, after all.

"I'm sure it would be her pleasure to do so." Willow replied, "You should inquire about it directly. There is a high chance she already has some stories to share."

It would have been beneficial in more than a way. The ghost lady would have loved to brag about doing something like that. Having that waiting for her on the other side might have actually persuaded her to take time off more consistently with her needs.

"Let's leave the area. Then I will provide directions to our destination." Willow instructed, "Or we could have a little fun with the GPS."

"We should put on that song that plays in that sketch with the three guys in the car!" Erica suggested.

"We shall, Erica."

They could indulge as long as it was funny.

Like a good host, Rook was keeping track of her guests, especially the ones who had visited before. Russell had made it through on his own last time, strong of the fact that the pocket didn't enjoy holding onto regular humans.

That had changed, but Lucien was already on the case.

"Well, now we know what it feels like to visit the Backrooms." the half fae mused.

"It's more like that infinite Ikea thing." Rook replied. She was quick to summon two endless shelves filled with all kinds of books and knickknacks that stretched past them as far as the eye could see.

It was an excuse to flex the full extent of her occult collection, but it also offered a distraction while she quietly reached to place her hand on Antonio's shoulder. Younger siblings had to be supportive too when needed.

"In my professional opinion, his entire family has never really shined in that regard." Veronica said, "They're just a bunch of power hungry hypocrites. It wouldn't surprise me if he was actively discouraged to improve his technique. He wouldn't be this deranged if he did. They essentially ruined their own child."

As a parent, she simply couldn't stand the thought.

Rook briefly looked at the chainmail, before shutting the chests. "I'm glad you didn't need that."

The battle had gone better than she could have ever hoped for. Both chests floated up to an empty spot on one of the shelves. They would be safe there for the time being.

"Alright, then. Let's all line up and follow mum outta here!"

Veronica sighed and moved to lead the way. "The first one to make a duck joke will take the express way out."

Lucien opened his mouth to reply, but decided for his own good to keep quiet.

Rook fell into step, moving more quickly now that her wings were gone.

"Do you guys mind if we stop by my stash? It's been a long fight..."

Her marks were starting to nag her already.

[gendervapor14]

i left a comment i've been meaning to leave for weeks!!

huh? did i reply to any of my comments?

.....

no.

but i left a comment. progress has been made.

[bylerist]

byler truthers: lawyers, film students, industry nerds, writers, analysts, professional overthinkers, fandom types and hyperfixators who’ve watched the show too many times (🙋)

byler antis: watched s4 once in 2022 and have barely thought about it since — unless they feel like being homophobic on social media, plus the occasional fellow hyperfixator (homophobic edition)

[marimbles]

It seems to be pretty well established that most fanfic authors don’t mind when readers leave comments on old fics and in fact welcome it. But what about authors replying to old comments?

Do readers care in general whether an author replies? Is it expected and seen as rude if they don’t? Is it nice when they do but not expected? Is there a time limit to the welcomeness of replies? Like is it nice if they respond within a few weeks but if it’s been months or years it feels awkward because you don’t remember the fic anymore? I’m curious!

[ramshacklerumble]

it's not even that im losing interest in twst, im really not. it's that im still massively struggling with an art block but please know

im having so many feelings about gia and ace right now and i just dont know how to begin to explain them oh my god

they've been plaguing me pretty nonstop since like before the latest book 7 drops but then the book 7 drops hit and im

drowning

like ahhhhhhhhhhh

aAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THESE STUPID FUCKERS....FUCK...

[starflungwaddledee]

deleted my little melt-down from yesterday. left it up a little longer than planned because i wanted to make sure folks got replies!

thank you so much to everyone who was very nice and encouraging to me about it and also to the person who sent me a delightful ask/prompt/suggestion that i would love to draw something to; if i can just get the confidence up

thank u 💖🙏

[bejeweledmp3]

tell me why i'm considering opening the doc and writing fanfiction during my lunch break. ON MY PHONE

[televisionenjoyer]

ok yeah turning off comments go night night forever

Can't even boycott the last of us, can't even boycott captain america, SOME OF YOU CAN'T EVEN QUIT HARRY POTTER. And then you refuse to read some classic from a guy who's not even around to do any harm because "all the classics were written by white heterosexual men" WHICH IS NOT EVEN TRUE

[paragonrobits]

some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:

Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.

The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.

There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.

Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).

Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.

On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.

Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."

[worstlesbianever]

“See original (Translated by Google)”

[dollyichi]

BETTER THAN A BLANKET!

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.04k words. fluff / established relationship / not proofread / maybe ooc but you know… it’s a sleepy bakugou

katsuki has this habit of moving you on top of him. it’s a very pure, almost natural, but mindless action that just happens when you’re together.

it happens more frequently on a lazy, late afternoon during his off days. when the sun’s about to set and the both of you are enjoying each other’s company. laying down side by side, comfortable in each other’s silence.

the errands for the day were done and instead of going on a date outside, you opted to just get back home quickly—he definitely had no complaints at all, in fact, he was happy to stay at home with you, especially since he was barely even at home because of the several missions and emergencies he was dispatched to. to him, a big flaw of being a hero is being away from their lover for long periods of time—but it’s always more important that the world you helped widen for him is safer for you.

when you got home, you watched a few movies with him. laughing about the cheesy romcoms that’s number one on the streaming site. throwing popcorn when he mocks a cringy line. “well shit, he was really fucking stupid for that. can’t be me.” was your favorite comment from him, making a mental note in your head that he really hates slow-burn romance. definitely hates cheating routes too, thinking the whole film is a waste of time.

sooner or later, the two of you end up getting a little drowsy, wanting to take that power nap that the two of you deserved after the hell you guys went through this week. both of you are just waiting for sleep to hit and drift off in each other’s arms.

this moment you have with him is always special, never failing to tug on your heartstrings, especially since the golden shine of the sun passes through the thin curtains of your lovely home, landing perfectly on his pretty face that’s trying to blink and stay awake all because he always preferred you falling asleep first. half lidded eyes that still shined prettily accompanied by the warm rays.

when katsuki gets extra groggy and sluggish, he pulls you over on top him all too suddenly. tugging at your arm, looking at you like a puppy wanting treats. his mouth’s in a straight line yet his eyes already is saying a lot, it is one of the most expressive parts of him if he chooses not to speak.

and you let him, moving on top of him while he maneuvered you to however he liked, landing on him with a soft thud. you scoot a little bit to be more comfortable. nuzzling your face against his neck when you’re already put in place, “he smells so nice,” you think. he wraps his arms around you in such a tender embrace—you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. also spreading his legs apart so yours could stay on the mattress in case your legs get numb later on, he’s so considerate.

your arms under his while you softly cling to the sleeves of his shirt. you’re both chest to chest, almost feeling each other’s heartbeats. he loved doing this so much because you being his very own personal blanket would always bring him comfort. you’re always just so full of warmth and he always wants to feel it from head to toe—this is just the best position to have it possible.

you’ll talk for a bit, saying how you missed him all week and he grins at you. “yeah? your boyfriend left you all alone huh? what a dumbass.” and then you’ll tell him some stories about what you did at work, chatting about how the coffee machine keeps breaking cause an intern hasn’t learned to use it properly. he’d give you replies in small phrases, happily listening to your voice while fighting the drowsiness that’s kicking in. chuckles whenever your pitch gets higher from your rants. then you’d go back to telling him how you saw him at the news the other day, how you always worried a lot, which always made him a little sad but it couldn’t be helped.

but you’re pouting at him so cutely he ends up smiling. “i’m here now aren’t i?” he asks in a way that reassures you. “mhm, safe and sound.” you say, nudging your cheek against his.

you really wished time could slow down, even for just a bit, just to have katsuki all to yourself for a little while longer.

eventually your chat with him turns to a slower pace, your voice gradually getting softer and softer, and words more disconnected as your mind gets hazy with sleep.

he mumbles a small, “sleepy?” and you snuggle deeper onto him, which immediately translates to his head as a ‘yes.’ he doesn’t ‘bother’ you anymore with any other words or further conversation. instead, he kisses the top of your head while he waits for you to drift off before him. and he repeatedly tells you how much he loved you, at least in his head he did.

you’re closing your eyes while he rubs your back, soothing you into that dreamscape while you hope to see him right there next to you just like you are now.

when you wake up you’re in the same place you were in, except the extra warmth on your back with your puffy comforter that katsuki somehow placed on without waking you.

you figured it’s time to start preparing dinner from how dark the room is. yet, with the way he looked so cute sleeping so soundly under the cool hue of the moonlight you think it’s probably fine to sleep for a few more minutes.

and you kiss him just for a little while before you lay back down. not knowing he was awake a few minutes after you did and hoped you wouldn’t notice the blush that’s creeping up his cheeks. “that was dangerous,” he thought to himself. maybe it was cause he was still high off from his dream but whenever you make his heart skip a beat this much it makes him want to ask you to be his girlfriend again (i think this definitely calls for a ring katsuki!)

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

[stzrgirl4norris]

Sonnet No. 33 - MV1

Max Verstappen x Student!Reader

summary: Max falls in love with the cute fan who is also a double major student with a lot to teach him

based on this request

notes: i have no idea if juilliard has an english major, i also don't know how U.S colleges work, but for the sake of this smau let's pretend it does this way

📍Juilliard, New York

liked by yourbff, yourroommate, maxverstappen1 and 456 others

yourusername Uni life, literature, musical theory, and one very important Sunday. Congrats on the win maxverstappen1 🏁💙

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yourbff this max guy owns me for hearing you screaming at the screen for 2 hours 💀

maxverstappen1 Thanks! I like your bookshelf by the way.

↪︎ yourusername wait WHAT ↪︎ user bro blink twice if you’re being held hostage by your own emotions ↪︎ user what is HAPPENING here??? ↪︎ user this is adorable. and terrifying. carry on.

user why is max randomly replying to fans????

user can someone explain how she got Verstappen to engage in emotionally intelligent dialogue because I can’t get a guy to reply to “hey”

yourroomate i’ve never seen you sprint across the dorm faster than when you saw that comment 💀💀

user Max Verstappen replying to a redheaded lit/music major from yale… I smell a ✨plotline✨

user “I like your bookshelf btw.” Sir. What does that even MEAN????

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

liked by yourbff, yourroommate, maxverstappen1 and 23,455 others

yourusername New week, new breakdown. But the piano solo slapped and I finally got a flat white that didn’t taste like existential dread. Small wins count 🥹🩷

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maxverstappen1: think you liked the keychain 😎

> yourusername I DID! it’s everywhere with me now > maxverstappen1 I’ll make sure to send you a cap next time > yourusername I think that counts as a legally binding statement

user Max is down bad and this is adorable

user Bro is out here giving keychains 💀

user the bookshelf is now lore. the keychain is lore.

user Max, tell the truth. She’s made you read Jane Austen, hasn’t she?

↪︎ maxverstappen1 no. something worse.

yourbff I would like to publicly announce that i am such a fan of this

user Max said: ‘girl studies books, I study HER’ 😭

user WHAT IS GOING ON HERE I’M SWEATING???

user not me shipping this like it’s canon and I’ve read ONE comment thread

user the bookshelf comment. the keychain. ladies we’ve got a CRUSH developing in real time

user now I’m imagining her studying with live timing in the background while he texts her from the garage 😭😭

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

📍Monte Carlo

liked by maxverstappen1, redbull, yourbff and 65,493 others

yourusername books closed. dress zipped. weekend saved. 🥂🌊

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maxverstappen1 You forgot the picture of me winning.

> yourusername there are plenty of those online already 😘

user THIS COMMENT SECTION IS KILLING ME

danielricciardo The man is GONE. GONEEEE 😭

yourbff My bestie flew to Monaco and came back smugger than a triple world champ

user HOLD ON IS THAT MAX WITH THE WHITE CAP???

user Soft launch speedrun unlocked

user this whole thing is SICK AND TWISTED

user not a single tag but every girl with anxiety and a Red Bull hoodie knew it was Max immediately

user oh your honor they are in love.

user And now she’s back at uni reading Wuthering Heights pretending she wasn’t kissed on a yacht at midnight

user he liked her bookshelf and now she’s in Monaco. we’re in a romcom.

user i don’t even go to uni and I suddenly want to major in Literature 😭

user He’s such a Cancer moon I swear to god

user Is she gonna be in the paddock at Silverstone next???

user showed this to my mom and she said, “she has the look of a girl he’d fall for.” I’m emotionally unwell.

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

liked by redbull, yourusername, lando and 9,112,412 others

maxverstappen1 Strong weekend. Good car. Great company. 🏁💙

(Tagged: yourusername)

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yourusername what happened to soft launching??

> maxverstappen1 Do I look like I know what that is?

danielricciardo AND JUST LIKE THAT HE IS IN LOVE

lando "great company” bro she made you eat vegetables this week admit it

charles_leclerc yourusername I'm sorry you have to endure him

> maxverstappen1 Be careful, I know where your dog lives.

user from bookshelf to podium. we rise.

user Verstappen HARD LAUNCHED Literature Girlfriend™ and I, for one, have not emotionally recovered.

user not max's rizz being about a BOOKSHELF

user can't believe i lived to see this day🧡

user HIS INTERVIEW SAYING, “I admire people who are passionate about what they love.” AND THEN THIS POST I'M IN AWE

pierregasly Did she write your caption or do you just sound like this when you’re in love?

georgerussell63 Charles owes me £50. I said it would be Belgium. Pay up.

> charles_leclerc 🙄🙄🙄

user My man went from “I don’t have time for distractions” to kissing her in the garage with one eye closed 😭😭

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the smallest room. l Joel Miller

Summary: despite the quarrels you were a family

Warnings: fluff, some angst, Ellie and Joel arguing, parenting worries, some swearing, some tears, Reader is pregnant,

A/N: .

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The moment you walked through the door, you found yourself in the middle of an argument. The atmosphere was tense. Ellie stood in the middle of the living room with anger and irritation written all over her face, Joel standing in the other corner. He put his hands on his hips, frustration written all over his face.

“I’m going to be sixteen soon!” Ellie snapped, her cheeks reddening.

“But you’re not yet.” Joel replied firmly. “You’re too young for that!”

“Bullshit!” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest. At times, she looked almost exactly like Joel. “Dina’s already training. I want that too! Jesse…”

“Jesse’s not responsible for you!”

Your eyes shifted from one to the other. A silent witness to the fight that had been brewing for some time. Ellie really wanted to start training for the people who took part in the patrols. She had told you so many times, but she was afraid of Joel's reaction. He had tried to keep her away from such activities for as long as possible. However, when Dina and a few of her other friends started training, she wanted to participate as well, which was only logical.

The girl's dark eyes finally landed on you. They widened as if she was seeing you for the first time, but then she demanded.

"Tell him! Tell him what you think!"

"I..." you began uncertainly, but Joel cut you off.

"Leave her out of this. This is between you and me."

"Why?!" the girl snorted. "Her opinion counts too, right? Jesus! I told her that would be the case, that you wouldn't agree with me."

Joel quickly looked at you. His jaw clenched. “Have you talked about this?”

You nodded and seeing the disappointment in his eyes, you quickly added. “Joel, we should think about this. It could be useful. Ellie should-”

“I knew you’d take her side,” he snapped.

“W-what?” you asked. “I’m not on anyone’s side!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t pick on her!” Ellie hissed. “I told her because I knew how you’d react. She understands perfectly well that what I want to do is important and necessary.”

“You’re too young for this!”

“Bullshit!”

They looked at each other with anger and disappointment, and you stood in the middle, still in your jacket, completely unsure of what you were supposed to do. Eventually, Ellie moved from her place, grabbed her jacket and left, slamming the door.

Silence.

You slowly took off your jacket and threw it on the couch. You could feel the expectant gaze staring at you. You had to say something.

“Joel, Ellie wouldn’t want you to-” you started, but stopped when you looked at his face.

It was the face of a father. Worried, loving, disappointed, with a mix of emotions he couldn’t control. The love this man had for Ellie was indescribable and you knew that whatever he did, he did with her well-being and safety in mind.

“You could have told me earlier,” he said quietly. “If you had talked about this behind my back, you could have told me. I thought we were-”

“We are,” you cut him off. “But I won’t take sides, and don’t expect me to, Joel. I love you both, I’d give my life for you. I understand your arguments, but Ellie has a point too.”

Joel grimaced and rolled his eyes. You took a step toward him.

"Yes. She's right too." You repeated. "She'll be 16 soon. What her friends do is important to her. Ellie wants to be useful, self-sufficient, able to take care of herself. She doesn't have to go on patrol right away, but let her get some serious training, learn how to shoot, track, I don't know..."

"She's too young." Joel repeated, as if this argument had the power to overturn all yours.

"Ellie has to be able to take care of herself, Joel. That's a fact. And whatever we do, whatever we say..." you took a deep breath. "We can support her in this. Or she'll do it behind our backs anyway. It's our choice."

He stared at you, analyzing your words. Joel knew perfectly well that you hadn't done or said any of this against him. But he felt helpless. Your touch almost surprised him. You were standing so close, your hand gently tightening on his arm. "I don't want to argue, Joel," you said quietly. “This isn’t going anywhere.”

He sighed. “I know, baby. I know…” He brushed his lips against your forehead. “I’m glad I have you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ellie was furious with him, but Joel knew she had the right to feel that way and he understood. So when she finally showed up at home, he tried to do everything he could to avoid another fight, to explain his fears and concerns to her, so that she would finally understand. He didn't want anything bad for her, he worried about her and everything he did, he did for her.

However, Joel knew perfectly well that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to protect her for the rest of his life.

"I talked to Tommy." He said slowly, seeing the girl leaning against the wall, still tense. "You'll be able to take part in training." Ellie raised her head, looking at him in surprise. "Just training for now. When you can go outside Jackson, you'll do it with Tommy, Jesse or me. But you have to be trained."

“Are you serious?” she finally managed to say. “Can I really?”

He nodded. In an instant, her body was slamming into his as she hugged him tightly and snuggled into him. Ellie was beaming with happiness, he could feel it.

“It’ll take you some time. You have to be patient,” he said, trying to hide how her gesture affected him.

“I will!” she called. “I have to tell Dina!”

“It’s late.”

But Joel’s words were drowned out by the slam of the door and the girl’s footsteps on the porch. He felt her energy, felt her joy, and something heavy finally slid off his shoulders.

As he quietly slipped into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on the bed, reading a book. You lifted your head, looking at him with interest.

"And?"

He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. "She ran to tell Dina. I hope I'm doing the right thing."

"Of course you are." You smiled. "You know, it's wonderful to watch you grow together. You both learn from each other."

Joel placed his shirt on the back of the chair and unbuckled his belt to change into something more comfortable. "It's easier when you have someone by your side." He said. "It's different now."

You didn't ask any more questions. You didn't have to know everything and you didn't drag him out of things he didn't necessarily want to talk about. Joel appreciated that.

"You're doing really great, you know." You closed the book and looked at him in a way that made Joel feel embarrassed. No one had ever told him that, and he wanted to hear it so badly.

"I hope so." he replied, sitting on the bed and sighing in relief as he felt your hand stroking his back.

The wall around Jackson was becoming more solid. New watchtowers were being built in places designated by the Miller brothers, and soon more people were being trained to defend the city. Spring was slowly approaching, and the upcoming changes in your home were becoming more noticeable. Your belly was already visible to everyone.

When you felt the first movements of your baby one morning, Joel needed a few minutes to find out from you what had brought you to tears. He sighed in relief, then placed his hand on your belly. The slight movement was clearly felt and Joel knew he would never forget it. Now touching this place had become a habit of his, it could take the weight of the whole day off his shoulders.

Finally, that one day came.

You both stood in the doorway of the small room that had long served as your storage room. It was a small bedroom with a window to the garden, lit by the golden rays of the sun.

"We can organize something here." Joel said, entering and looking around. "Paint the walls. Refresh the furniture."

“We don’t have a crib.” You noticed as you followed him in.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, walking over to the window. His brain was already racing. He knew exactly what he wanted and what needed to be done. Knowing that he was preparing a nursery for his child was…exciting.

“This is all getting so serious.” Your quiet voice tore him out of his thoughts, from behind the plans for renovating this room. He turned around to see you sitting on the made bed, staring at your hands.

“What do you mean?” he asked, sitting down next to you.

“I guess everything.” You shrugged. “We have maybe four months left. I can’t fit into my pants anymore…”

“I like you in dresses.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “My body is changing, Joel. I never thought…” you let out a breath, trying to calm your voice. “When I lived in the zone, I saw pregnant women, but I never thought I’d experience something like this. All the fights and worries that we both know so well. It doesn’t go away that easily.”

“And it never will be.” Joel gently took your hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “But I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. You’re strong, brave, supportive, loving… You’ll give that baby everything.”

“I wish.” He saw a small tear roll down your cheek and it squeezed his heart.

He wanted you to see him through his eyes, to see yourself the way he saw you. Everything you’d been through had led you to this moment, and fuck, Joel was so grateful for that.

“When Sarah was born, I didn’t think I’d have to raise her by myself. Tommy and my mother, they were both so supportive, but I was the father. Sometimes at night she’d cry so much… I want to tell you that maybe the world we live in is fucked up, but we have each other. Right?”

“What if the baby cries at night and I don’t know what to do?”

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "We'll get through this, honey. Together."

A girl. It was a girl.

Joel felt his heart stop and then start beating like crazy. He didn't know what Morris saw on the screen as he examined you, but he seemed completely certain. You squeezed Joel's hand so hard that you dug your nails into the back of his hand.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your voice shaking.

"Yes." Morris smiled, not taking his eyes off the screen as he watched the baby carefully. "I can't give you a hundred percent, but a solid ninety might be enough."

You looked at Joel. His beautiful brown eyes were sparkling with tears. When he looked at you, you felt yours getting moist as well. He didn't tell you, but he had a feeling it was going to be a girl. Maybe he was destined to be the father of daughters.

"Can you believe it?" you asked as Morris walked away and Joel helped you sit up. "A girl!"

"I know." he took your face in his hands, kissing you tenderly. Tears glistened in his eyes. “The most important thing is that she’s healthy. And that you feel good.” 

But the truth was, you couldn’t stop smiling. When you left the clinic, the world seemed a little more beautiful for a moment. You were in this together. As a family.

He quietly opened the door and quickly slipped inside. The rain soaked his hair and jacket, but the long package he had carefully wrapped in an old sheet seemed untouched. Joel listened for a moment, the house empty. You were probably still at Maria's, since you promised her you'd stay with Benji for a while. So he had to act quickly.

"Oh, shit! What happened here?"

Joel almost kicked the glue bucket when he heard Ellie's voice. The girl was standing in the doorway of the smallest bedroom, her eyes wide as she looked around the room. He hurried down the ladder.

"Isn't she here yet?" he asked, glancing quickly into the hallway behind the girl.

"No. But... What are you doing?"

Joel wiped his hands on his pants and nervously looked around the room. "I thought I'd surprise her and start the renovation already. Look." He led Ellie to the table where the package he'd brought earlier was lying. "I found it in the storage room. Do you think she'll like it?"

A wide smile spread across the girl's face. "Are you serious? She'll be so excited. And you'll do it all by yourself?"

Joel nodded. He knew you'd be happy to help him, but he wasn't going to let you. It would be quicker if he asked Tommy or anyone else, but Joel felt a strong urge to do it himself.

Ellie watched him go through the steps with precision, and even helped him a little. Unnecessary things were removed, the floor was swept. Joel was gathering his tools when he heard the door slam shut.

"It's her." He hissed, looking at Ellie in panic. "You have to keep her downstairs for a few more minutes. I beg you!"

Ellie quickly ran out of the room, her footsteps echoing up the stairs along with a loud "Hi! What's up?"

Joel didn't have much time. He quickly gathered his tools, folded the ladder and carried it out into the hallway. You shouldn't have seen all this yet, or maybe you should have just that he wasn't entirely sure if you'd like it.

"Ellie, I'm sorry, but I have to change." Your voice echoed down the stairs. "I'd like to put on something comfortable. Is Joel here yet?"

"Y-yeah, he is." The girl replied uncertainly and after a moment he heard your footsteps on the stairs.

The moment your eyes met his you froze immediately.

“What happened?” You asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “Why do you think something happened?”

“It’s written all over your face, Joel. I’ve known you for a while and I see things like this.” Your gaze fell on the toolbox. You gave Joel a pointed look.

He cleared his throat. He was clearly confused and uncertain, but he finally swallowed and said. “I’ve got something for you. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but…”

“Show her!” Ellie said loudly. “You’ll love it, I’m telling you.”

Joel nodded and you stepped closer. He pointed to the door handle, so you carefully grabbed it and opened the door. There was silence. He watched with a pounding heart as you entered, your gaze moving around the room, your eyes widening.

Shit. What if you didn’t like it? What if he did something wrong? Yes, he tried and everything, but what if…

“Do you like it?” he asked quietly when the silence became unbearable. “Sweetheart?”

You turned to him slowly, your eyes brimming with tears. This scared him even more.

“I found this wallpaper in the warehouse,” he said quickly, as if justifying himself, pointing to the pale pink wallpaper decorated with delicate roses. “This spot by the window will be perfect for a crib, and on the other side we’ll put an armchair. It’ll be more comfortable at night. There’ll be a changing table here,” he walked over to the shelf and opened the door. “I oiled the hinges, cleaned everything. I saw this nice night light, it would fit perfectly here.”

Joel was describing everything in the room to you, and your eyes followed him. After a moment, the dam broke and tears ran down your cheeks.

“Jesus, sweetheart! You don’t like it.”

In an instant, you walked up to him and, taking his face in your hands, kissed him. He felt your tears on his face, but they probably weren't sad.

"I think she likes it." Ellie said, standing in the doorway and looking at you with amusement. "She's been very emotional lately."

"Joel..." you sighed, pulling away from him and staring at him in awe. "It's so beautiful!"

"The wallpaper was a little dusty, but..."

"Fuck, I don't care!" you interrupted him abruptly. "This is fucking amazing! Did you do this all by yourself?"

He nodded towards Ellie. “With a little help.”

When Ellie finally got out of your arms, she decided she didn't want to watch you cry anymore and quickly left the house. You turned to Joel. He could see your swollen lips and puffy eyes perfectly, but you were smiling, so it didn't have to be that bad.

"Are you okay, honey?" he asked with concern, you nodded and took a deep breath.

"It's just too much emotion, you know. I've been a bit..."

"I know, I know..." he smiled, because your state was truly touching. Joel had the impression that you looked more and more beautiful with each passing day, and even at that moment there was something incredibly attractive about you.

"I didn't think I would ever do this again. But with you... With you everything makes sense."

You didn't answer, you just walked up to him. You reached out and stroked Joel's cheek, then leaned down to kiss him. You didn't need anything more, everything was clear.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait @mmmunson @grace-928 @umadirectioner

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Could I request dad Alex with a two year old and her uncle George keeps stealing her away to the Mercedes garage?

Panda Poe

The paddock was already buzzing by the time Alex arrived, carrying his sugar-sweet little girl in his arms. Yn, all of two years old, blinked up at the early morning lights in her oversized bucket hat, clutching her stuffed panda to her chest. Her long lashes fluttered as she surveyed the bustling chaos around her, a little overwhelmed but comforted by the warmth of her father's hold.

Next to them, Carlos adjusted his sunglasses and stretched, a coffee cup already in hand. "She looks sleepy," he commented, peering at Yn, who gave a quiet yawn and snuggled closer to Alex's shoulder.

"She fell asleep in the car," Alex said, smiling as he rubbed circles on her back. "Didn’t want to wake her, but she insisted on coming with me this morning."

Carlos chuckled. "She's got your determination."

They had just stepped into the main stretch of the paddock when it happened—again.

"Oi!"

Alex didn't even get a chance to react. George appeared seemingly out of thin air, striding over with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. Without saying a word, he reached out and plucked Yn from Alex’s arms with the practiced ease of someone who had clearly done this many times before.

Yn blinked up at her godfather, recognized him, and gave the faintest smile. "Uncle Georgie," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"Hello, sweetheart," George cooed, completely ignoring the baffled look on Alex’s face.

"Hey!" Alex called, laughing. "You can’t just keep stealing my daughter like this!"

"Too late! She’s mine now!" George called over his shoulder, already making a beeline for the Mercedes garage.

Carlos stared after them, eyes wide. "Did he just... kidnap your kid?"

"Every. Damn. Race," Alex muttered, sighing as he adjusted his backpack. "She barely gets a moment in the Williams garage anymore."

"At least she likes him."

"She loves him," Alex said. "He’s her favorite. I’m not even mad about it. Just... mildly offended."

—

Inside the sleek silver world of the Mercedes garage, George was already parading Yn around like she was a royal guest.

"She’s in her quiet mood today," he told one of the engineers, cradling her carefully as she observed everything with wide, curious eyes. "But if you talk to her about pandas, she might say something."

"Panda?" the engineer asked softly.

Yn looked at him, blinked, and shyly held out her toy. "This... Poe."

"Oh! He has a name! Poe, huh? That’s a very important-looking panda."

George smiled proudly. "She named him herself. Genius, this one."

From across the room, Toto approached with a rare, soft smile on his face. "And how is my favorite little guest today?"

Yn, still quiet, peered up at him and gave a small wave.

Toto leaned down and gently brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "You are being very brave, coming to this loud place."

George shifted her gently so she could lean back against his chest. "She’s used to it now. I think she likes the buzz."

Yn turned her head toward George. "Buzz," she repeated softly.

"See? She talks to me," George teased, winking.

In the corner, Kimi stood awkwardly, half behind one of the tires, watching Yn like she was a rare animal he wasn’t sure how to approach.

George noticed. "Kimi! Come here. She doesn’t bite, promise."

Kimi stepped forward, still tentative. He was young, incredibly fast, and utterly fearless on track, but the tiny human in George’s arms seemed to mystify him.

"She’s really little," Kimi said.

"She’s two. That’s standard issue," George replied with a grin.

Yn stared at Kimi with serious eyes, studying him. Then, slowly, she lifted Poe and offered him.

Kimi blinked. "For me?"

She nodded.

George beamed. "That’s the highest honor you can receive. You’ve officially been accepted."

Kimi took Poe gently, holding him with the care one might offer a Fabergé egg. "Thanks," he said, awkward but genuine.

"She’s quiet, but she watches everything," George said, shifting her so she could sit more comfortably in the crook of his arm. "Like someone else I know."

Kimi flushed slightly. "Not that quiet."

"Oh, you're a chatterbox compared to her."

Yn leaned her head against George’s collarbone, eyes starting to droop. It was barely past nine in the morning.

George looked down at her fondly. "Think she’ll nap again. This is my favorite part."

—

Meanwhile, Alex finally arrived at the Williams hospitality area, only to be met by his team principal.

"Let me guess," the man said with a smirk. "George?"

"George," Alex confirmed. "I swear, I’m going to start putting a tracker on my own daughter."

Carlos laughed behind him. "You know what’s wild? She doesn’t even fight it. She just goes with him. Like he’s some sort of baby whisperer."

Alex exhaled heavily, pulling out his phone. "At least he always sends me photos."

Sure enough, a notification blinked on his screen—George had sent a picture of Yn curled up on his chest, eyes closed, Poe tucked under her chin. The caption read: We’re taking our pre-FP1 nap. Will return the princess at lunch.

Alex rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

—

Back in the Mercedes garage, George had settled himself into a quiet corner with Yn asleep against him. Kimi, after a few minutes of pretending not to care, sat beside him.

"She’s really calm. Doesn’t cry or fuss."

"Only when she’s hungry or tired," George said. "She likes quiet people. You should talk to her sometime when she’s awake. She’d like you."

Kimi glanced at the small girl. "What if I say the wrong thing?"

George grinned. "Mate, you’re talking to someone who panicked the first time she sneezed. You’ll be fine."

A few of the mechanics passed by, smiling or waving. Yn had become a bit of a paddock legend—tiny, quiet, and always dressed in soft colors and sunhats.

Toto walked by again, giving the duo a warm look. "I hope you plan to return her eventually, George."

"Eventually," George said. "But maybe after qualifying. Maybe."

Yn stirred slightly and opened her eyes, looking around sleepily.

George kissed the top of her head. "Hey, starlight. You woke up just in time. Want to see the car?"

She nodded slowly, thumb in her mouth.

George stood carefully and carried her over to the edge of the garage, pointing out his car. "That one’s mine. And Kimi’s is next to it. See the shiny wheels?"

Yn blinked at the car, then turned to George. "You fast?"

He laughed, eyes crinkling. "The fastest, sweetheart."

She looked back at the car, then whispered, "Zoom."

George glanced at Kimi, who was standing nearby. "I told you. Baby genius."

Kimi nodded solemnly. "Zoom."

And Yn giggled. A soft, delighted sound that made everyone within earshot smile.

George beamed. "That’s it. You’re never getting her back, Alex. She’s ours now."

Somewhere, in the Williams hospitality suite, Alex sneezed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey guys. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I had so much fun writing this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🤍🦢

[divadepreshawn]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader

Summary: You spent a large part of your life taking care of people. Between a test to grade, a phone call to calm Spencer down, and the problems of everyday life, there was never any time left. And honestly? You never cared about investing in your own love life. Love (in the intimate sense, between two people) was something for other people. But it seems that destiny had other plans. Warnings: I don't think I have any important notice, just sweet. This is part two, you can check out part one here. Ok if you guys could take a look at this post and tell me what you prefer it would be a great help, WC: 2 900 I usually use specific playlists for writing (more focused on the feeling than the reader itself) but I created a specific one for this one. For those who may be interested, you can find it here.

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You had just arrived home – and you were exhausted. People often think that dealing with children is difficult. Nonsense. The hard part is dealing with adults. They complain, interrupt the class all the time to make impertinent comments and still think they have the right to question your knowledge. You were taking off your coat when the doorbell rang.

“Who could it be at this hour?” You mumbled, leaving your bag on the table before heading to the door.

“Oh… Hello,” you greeted with a frown, alternating your gaze between Jack, Aaron and the bouquet.

You glanced at Jack, who was holding a delicate bouquet of red and white roses in both hands, the simple bow around the stem slightly crooked. Then you slowly looked up at Aaron, his expression as discreet as you remembered, despite the softer look in his eyes.

“Hi,” Jack said with a shy smile as he held the bouquet out to you. “I wanted to give you a yellow flower, but Dad said roses were better because they’re a lot of people’s favorites. And they also have less pollen… whatever that means. Do you like roses?”

Your heart sank at the gesture—the smile so wide it could split your lips spread before you could stop it—as you bent down to Jack’s level. You picked up the bouquet with care, as if it were made of crystal.

“Roses are my favorite,” you assured him, bringing the flowers to your nose, squeezing them lightly so he knew you meant it. “And these are, without a doubt, the most beautiful ones I’ve ever gotten.” Jack smiled, looking down at the flowers again.

“It was his idea,” Aaron explained, glancing at his son before looking back at you. “He insisted we bring you flowers to thank you for the cookies. They were really good. But I didn’t know if you had any allergies and, well… we didn’t want to kill you with a gift.”

"It's okay. I loved it, thank you," you smiled, opening the door a little wider so they could see the room. "And as you can see, I'm immune."

Aaron and Jack tilted their heads slightly to the side, from where they were standing they had a view of a small corner of the room: potted plants scattered on the floor, on the bookshelf, on the coffee table and hanging near the windows – mostly large and small green leaves and just a few small colorful flowers.

Aaron nodded slowly, looking relieved that he hadn't triggered an allergic reaction. "Well… we'll be right there. Welcome to the building."

"Thanks again. You were very kind."

"It was nothing," he replied, placing his hand on Jack's back to guide him down the hallway. "If you need anything… we're right there."

Jack nodded quickly. "My dad can fix anything."

You laughed at his enthusiasm, nodding in affirmation. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

–

Aaron sighed, putting the last folder inside his leather bag. “Thank you for coming so early. This meeting wasn’t scheduled, I still don’t know why it’s so urgent.”

Jessica shook her head, waving her hand away as she sat down on the kitchen chair. “It’s okay, I was already awake anyway.”

Her eyes wandered over the kitchen counter until they landed on the new glass jar on the counter — still holding some of the cookies you’d left out days ago. A smile slowly crept up as an idea formed.

“Did you see someone moved into the apartment across the way?”

Aaron paused for a second, frowning slightly as he checked his watch. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I heard.”

“She’s a woman. Very polite, seemed nice…” Jessica commented casually, watching, waiting for a reaction. A barely audible grunt was all she got. “And very pretty too,” she added with a smile.

Aaron looked up from his bag, staring at the bookshelf. His expression was as impassive as ever — though the slight blush that rose to his ears betrayed him. “Really? I didn’t notice.”

Aaron was lying, of course. He had noticed, too much for his own well-being. The image of you — eyes slightly wide, breathing heavily, and the embarrassed expression when you realized you were rambling — was still clear in his mind.

Jessica arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms slowly.

“You didn’t notice?” she repeated, her tone skeptical—just because he remained expressionless and the lie slid like butter didn’t mean it sounded convincing. “Aaron, you would notice if someone had replaced the entrance rug with one two shades darker.”

“I’m observant, yes, it’s part of the job,” he said, defending himself. “But I’m not constantly analyzing everyone’s behavior.”

Jessica leaned over the table, her eyes shining with amusement. “Okay, but there’s no way I couldn’t have noticed the perfume.”

He hesitated for a second—longer than he would have liked. “Yes.”

“I knew it.”

Aaron took a deep breath, closing the bag with a soft snap. “There’s nothing in there.”

“Not yet.” She shrugged, standing up. “But look… it’s been three years, there’s nothing wrong. You’re a widower, not a monk.”

Aaron stared at the floor for a moment, before glancing briefly at the glass jar of cookies on the counter.

“Okay…” Jessica didn’t insist. “Come on, honey.” Jack was already at your side, rubbing his eyes.

“Wait, I’ll walk you guys.”

–

You had arranged with Spencer that you would accompany him for breakfast at a coffee shop-bookstore he had discovered, not far from where he lived. It was a good idea, to spend some quality time with Spencer – who you hadn’t seen in a week – before work, with a great excuse to binge on caffeine and chocolate before nine in the morning. It turned out that you were five minutes late – and you hate being late.

The apartment that was so tidy it could have welcomed Vogue for a tour now looked like a war zone. You got ready in record time. Despite tripping over the hem of your pants when you were running down the hall after your missing shoe. Refusing to sit down to put on your boots, which resulted in a romantic encounter between your hip and the corner of the table – that would turn into a bruise later for sure. Let’s not forget that you almost sprayed perfume on your mouth while trying to read the message on your phone.

A great way to start the day.

As soon as you opened the door, you heard the doorknob turn from the other side of the hall. Jack came out first, shuffling his feet across the floor, rubbing his eyes. Oh, kids are adorable.

“Good morning,” he murmured, smiling as soon as he saw you, his voice a little hoarse from sleep.

You smiled back, adjusting your bag. “Good morning, darling. How are you?” You turned to lock the door, giving Jessica and Aaron a small smile, a silent greeting.

“I’m fine. Are you leaving early today?” Jack asked, looking at you curiously.

“Jack,” Aaron warned, giving you an apologetic look.

“It’s okay,” you said, waving your hand away. “Yeah, I’m leaving early because I have to see my brother before work.”

Jack tilted his head thoughtfully. “Is your brother small? Can I play with him?”

You laughed, balancing your bag and backpack on the same shoulder. “No, honey… he’s already grown up. But I’m sure he’d love to play with you.”

Jack looked thoughtful at your explanation. “So he’s old?”

“Jack…” Aaron caught your attention again.

You laughed at his conclusion. “He’s old, yes. A little taller than me,” you explained, grimacing in disapproval. “And I don’t like that at all.”

Jack laughed. “So he plays basketball? Dad said only tall people can play.”

“Oh no, he has two left feet,” you pressed the button, turning to Jack as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor. “But he has a really cool job… And it’s secret,” you whispered the last part.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jessica said, moving closer to you and inhaling slowly, “but you need to tell me your secret. You smell like… heaven.”

You laughed, a little surprised by the compliment. “Well, thanks… I think that’s where I spray the perfume, you know? I also like to mix it with a little body lotion. It stays on better that way.”

Before she could respond, the elevator doors opened with a soft hiss. Aaron, who had been quiet until then, slowly approached, holding the door for you. He tried to convince himself that it was a polite gesture – politeness, chivalry. But deep down he knew. You knew it was a terrible excuse to smell your perfume.

And God, yes. You smelled like heaven.

“Mix it with moisturizer…” she repeated, as if mentally reinforcing the tip. “I never thought of putting it on like that, but I’ll definitely try it tomorrow. Because honestly, the way you smell today… it’s almost criminal.”

You just smiled at her in a friendly way, not sure how to respond to the compliment. Jack turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity.

“My dad’s job is secret too,” he said, puffing out his chest slightly—speaking of his father with pride. Oh, totally adorable. “You have a secret job too?”

“Oh no, my job is completely public, I’m a teacher.”

Jack’s eyes widened, placing his hand on his chest. “Can you teach me?”

“I’m sorry, dear, I only teach grown-ups.”

Aaron turned, watching you curiously. “College professor?”

“Exactly,” you confirmed with a small smile before sighing dramatically. “As hard as a secret job, I’d say.”

“What do you teach?” Jessica asked, genuinely curious.

“Psychology, more specifically anatomical organization, nervous system functioning, basic psychological processes. Things like that.”

“Interesting,” she muttered, casting a quick, amused glance toward the man standing near the door, before sliding her eyes to your left hand. “Very interesting.”

“Can I ask you something more personal?”

“Sure.”

“Are you married?”

Aaron had a complicated relationship with religion, a problem that had been going on for years that Jessica had solved in a second. Because at that moment he was silently praying to any higher power that could hear him. Praying that the ground would open up and swallow him whole, sparing him the embarrassment.

You blinked in surprise – more shocked by the question than offended. You glanced briefly at your hand – full of delicate rings of different sizes – before turning your gaze back to her.

“Oh… No. I just like rings and I’m a bit of an exaggerator.”

Jessica smiled so brightly that for a second you were sure she would start jumping for joy right there. “Me too, but I can’t wear more than two without remembering my punk phase as a teenager.”

You laughed. “I went through that phase too, I used to buy mine at the newsstand. Now at least I can buy one that doesn’t stain my finger green.”

The elevator stopped on the ground floor, the small noise it made as it opened the doors reminded you that you were late.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, the smile still on your lips, giving them one last goodbye look.

“I’m late… see you later.”

-

You entered, the soft sound of a bell announcing your entrance. The atmosphere was exactly the kind of place you imagined Spencer would love: walls lined with books to the ceiling, rustic wooden tables, cozy yellow light.

Spencer was sitting at one of the corner tables, leafing through a book that was too thick – it would take him about twenty minutes to finish reading at most. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice you approaching.

“If it was a snake, you’d be dead.”

“There are around 140 species of snakes registered in the US. Among this group are the venomous and non-venomous ones. They are divided by leading biologists into two main families: Elapidae and Viperidae,” he continued reading the book while you sat down. “And despite the variety in their natural habitat, considering that we’re in the middle of the city, the probability of having a snake in here is zero.”

“Thanks, genius boy,” you teased him, picking up the menu to choose a dish. “How was your week?”

Spencer closed the book, placing it next to you on the bench. “It was good, mom called me.”

You smiled, putting the menu down to pay attention to the conversation. “And how is she?”

“Fine. I mean, as good as possible. It was a quiet conversation this time. She talked about the new nurses, one in particular has an annoying laugh, but at least he knows how to make decent tea.”

You laughed softly. “That’s progress.”

“She scolded me,” he said, sounding genuinely offended. “She said I needed to get by now, because I’m an adult, and that I shouldn’t burden you. Oh, and she told you to mind your own business.”

“Oh, how lovely,” you murmured sarcastically, looking out the window.

“You know what she meant,” he gave a small smile, adding an amount of sugar that would give you type two diabetes to the coffee.

For a moment, silence fell. And then, almost without realizing it, a sad smile appeared on the corner of your lips. Because you knew. You knew exactly what she meant by that.

It was a request, disguised as a scolding. A reminder: focus on your life now.

“What about you? Have you done anything this week? You seem… different.”

“Different how?”

Spencer pressed his lips together in a straight line, tilting his head slightly. “You seem more relaxed. Less stressed than usual, especially on a Friday.” He raised his eyebrows. “Who did you kill?”

“I haven’t killed anyone… Yet.” You gave a short laugh, biting the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should tell him. “… I got flowers yesterday.”

Spencer blinked in surprise. “Really?”

You nodded, thanking her with a smile as the clerk placed your coffee cup on the table. “Jack gave it to me. A bouquet with some roses.”

“Jack?”

“He’s my neighbor’s son,” you explained.

“Jack… how old is he?”

“About five, maybe six. He’s cute. Very polite. He handed me the bouquet all embarrassed and asked me if I liked roses because, according to his father, they have less pollen and they didn’t want to kill me.”

Spencer smiled at the image. “Less pollen. Smart. Considering the rate of seasonal allergies has been rising in recent years, that makes sense,” he said, before frowning. “But does that mean your neighbor bought you flowers?”

You watched him for a second — the way he tried to look merely curious when he was clearly worried. Spencer was never good at faking it.

“It was Jack’s idea. But… yeah. He came along. Apparently it was a token of appreciation for the cookies I left for them on the second day.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. “… cookies?”

“Jack liked cookies and I needed to apologize for the noise and for almost knocking his dad over in the hallway,” you shrugged. “I’m good with kids, Spencer.”

“You don’t even make cookies for me.”

“You’re not even five. And you’ve never bought me flowers.” You nudged your hand across the table.

“Spencer, are you jealous? I can bake you cookies.”

“Too late,” he pouted, crossing his arms, before giving up and starting to laugh. “But… is he divorced?”

“Who?”

“Your neighbor.”

“I think so. How do you know?”

“You mentioned the son, but not the mother. You would have mentioned her if she was on your doorstep. And I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t accept that kind of attention from someone who’s already married.”

You blinked, impressed. “Have you ever thought about becoming an FBI agent?”

“I have. The fitness part turned me off.”

You laughed, remembering Spencer’s phone calls. It was one o’clock, with him just complaining about his sore legs, cursing someone named Derek, and saying how unfair life was.

“I don’t know much about his romantic past, I just know that he lives alone with his son and is single. He keeps to himself.”

Spencer stared at you for a few seconds, the gears of his mind turning silently behind his clear eyes. Then he looked down at his coffee, twirling the cup between his fingers.

“Private?” he repeated, returning his gaze to the croissant. “Private can mean a lot of things. Private because he’s shy? Private because he has a complicated past? Or private because he killed someone in another state and kidnapped a child to have a good cover.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Are you profiling my neighbor or writing a script for a 2000s TV show?”

“I’m talking to my sister,” he replied quickly, explaining his point before he could receive any accusations of intrusion. “Who, for the first time in months, is smiling before nine in the morning — without having had three cups of coffee. She’s not planning any murders and hasn’t mentioned or alluded to suicide.”

Have you mentioned how much it sucks to have a profiler brother? Because, well. It sucks. “Okay, he probably doesn’t see it that way, let’s change the subject.”

“Oh please,” he scoffed, stealing a piece of his pie. “Have you seen the price of flowers these days? And would anyone who doesn’t care be careful to choose a flower that won’t cause an allergic reaction?”

“Spencer.”

“I’m already changing the subject.”

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