#taskforce nonsense

[lambiewrites]

I’m so sorry but the more and more I think about it, Soap and I would get along scarily well. As long as he can pick apart my southern accent and southern idioms. I’ll do my best with his Scottish ones.

Like I need an AU where (The taskforce in general) is just a bunch of college students (Price can be a professor but one of the cool ones who eats lunch with his students)

Y/N (and me bc I said so) are also college students and we meet everyone in class or orientation and it’s just neat and fun.

Y’all want me to head this up? Gimmie ideas below for majors/minors bc I’m kinda lost.

Me personally, I’m a counseling major w/ a minor in psychology. I actually graduate next Saturday :3

[corviiids]

i think L should've tried harder to piss light off. provoking light into slipping up would not only be hilarious i also think it would be extremely easy and effective. not saying you could get light to actually confess this way, but he would definitely make more dumb mistakes if, for example, L kept interrupting their homoerotic brain chess matches to insist that kira is actually matsuda because the butts match

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[sexydoffyman]

BLIND LOVE

genre: fluff/romance

characters: König

It has been years since you met. You were on a mission together where two task forces had to handle the situation. After some higher-up saw how the task forces were able to work together despite their differences in age and experience, he decided to merge them. That was the actual time when König started playing a major role in the now-merged taskforce. That was also the exact same time when he had to interact with you the most due to you being constantly paired up with him.

That was the time he fell for you.

He and Horangi were always in a good relationship. He felt safe enough to share his interests. He didn’t tell anyone else. He always talked about how you were way out of his league. You were everything anyone would ever want or need. He on the other hand thought of himself as an unimportant nobody. He thought for years about how unattractive he had to be to other people. He didn’t have any qualities. The only interesting thing about him is that he is tall.

He was blind.

You kept talking to a friend on the task force about him non-stop. If he knew that he’d freak out. He would think that his crush saw how pathetic he was. But your opinions of him were very different. You thought in the same way he did. You thought of yourself as someone who would never stand up to his standards. You saw him as a god.

You were blind.

Your paths were constantly crossing. He was always talking to Horangi about how fantastic you were the same way you were talking to your friend. Whenever they looked at each other they gave the other the look. They both knew you were extremely into each other.

They had to put an end to this.

The plan was to hype you up at the same time for you two to give each other the same kind of flower. They made sure to let you know that nothing could go wrong. When you both almost chickened out at the same time they knew you were meant to be together.

It was time. You met König in a hallway when walking to his room. “Oh! Hey, funny to run into you here. I was actually on my way to talk to you.” You spoke nervously. König wasn’t able to detect your nervous tone over his own thoughts. “Would you believe me if I told you that I was also on my way to talk to you?”

You chatted for a while, delaying the inevitable. It happened so quickly when you spoke over each other. “So... yeah, I wanted to...” You spoke as you pulled out a white rose. “Right, I wanted to tell you…” König said at the same time pulling out the same white rose.

You looked at each other and then at the roses. Then it clicked for both of you. “They set us up.” You spoke silently in disbelief. “They must’ve been real tired of us talking nonsense.” He added.

Silence filled the hallway.

“So, do you want to grab dinner anytime soon?”

[jessiso]

"One more round"

A Criminal Minds one-shot |Aaron Hotchner x Reader

After months of working on a joint taskforce, the team finally wrap up a stressful case. At the teams suggestion everyone is meeting for drinks.

w/c 2,046 words

(I literally never proof read anything so my greatest apologies - pls enjoy c:)

usage of Y/N

...

Finally, the case was finally done.

You could now relax, and that you would be doing. The team had suggested you all go out for drinks to celebrate – you would never turn down a celebration.

Touching up your makeup in the cab to the bar you looked at yourself in the small hand-held mirror, your eyes looked tired but that wouldn’t stop you from having a good time.

Your hair fell down your shoulders in a feathery mess, you had tried to style it earlier, but it wasn’t cooperating, so you had eventually given up. It’s not like the team hadn’t seen you look ten times worse anyway.

The cab pulled over and you thanked the driver handing him the cash and a small tip for his graceful driving whilst you applied your mascara and lipstick.

You opened the door and stepped out your heel touching the pavement with a light click.

Before you could even look up you heard your name being called “Y/N!”

Your eyes flicked around looking for the familiar face that the voice came from, “Garcia!” You smiled from ear to ear as you reached out and enclosed her in a big hug.

“I missed you” She gushed, “for the entire 3 hours that we haven’t seen each other!” She continued separating the hug reluctantly but continuing to mumble along with a string of nonsense.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her endearment, but she was the person who you’d become closest to at your time at the BAU. Well, besides from your chief Hotch who you had spent one too many late nights with at the Office.

You couldn’t see any of the other team members stood outside, but you happily followed along with Penelope as she guided you into the bar and passed the crowds.

As the sea of people depleted and separated there you saw the table surrounded by the team members you’d grown so fondly of. Each of them talking, smiling, and laughing over drinks

You followed Penelope round the table to the two final seats. You found yourself sandwiched between her and Morgan, and you knew it would be the end of days if you continued to sit between them, and so you picked up the chair and moved it around in the gap between Hotch and Spencer.

“Boys.” You greeted them both as you took your seat, a rose between two thorns.

They both smiled before Hotch spoke, “Do you want a drink?” He asks stoically, his face returning to his normal façade. “It’s on me of course” He followed along holding up his wallet.

You nodded and told him what you wanted, “(your drink of choice).” His face looked a little shocked, you hadn’t been out for drinks before, and he didn’t expect that to be your drink of choice. “Not what I would have guessed for a girl like yourself.” He chuckled a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips before he stood up and meandered to the bar.

You sat twiddling your thumbs slightly looking around the table, you were confident, but you didn’t want to butt into anyone’s conversation, so you sat patiently waiting for a gap.

A gap that never came.

With a slight thud your drink appeared on the table in front of you and a Hotch appeared next to you, his own whiskey in hand.

You looked towards him, his face was stern and strong but there was still visible compassion in the way he portrayed himself.

You sparked up a conversation with Spencer who had accidentally bumped into you, because to be honest, you really were squashed between the two.You talked and talked and eventually the whole team were having one big conversation.

The night passed and the drinks flowed, you all lost track of time.

…

The bar was now quiet, the odd regular dotted about but no crowds bustling and no boisterous noise.

With a stretch and a sigh people began to rise from the table and with their goodbyes began to filter out of the bar one after the other.

You had decided that the weather was nice and walking home down the side of the water would be pleasant enough.

“Are you getting a cab?” Hotch asked standing from his seat.

You shook your head as you pulled your handbag onto your shoulder, “It’s nice out – a bit of fresh air never hurt anyone and it’s at most a 15-minute walk.” You smiled at him feeling the slight buzz of the alcohol from the night.

“Walking? Alone?” His voice was stern and aired with a side of deep concern. “I’ll walk with you.” He stated and pushed your chair in for you as you moved away.

“It’s really no bother.” You spoke feeling as though you were burdening the man from returning home himself.

He shook his head at you and repeated himself, “I’ll walk with you.” His repetition was filled with seriousness, and it felt more of a command than an offer, but you couldn’t be bothered to fight against him this time, so you nodded your head.

Everyone had left by now and Hotch led you towards the door and out of the bar.

The night’s air was cold and fresh, and it hit you as soon as you walked out – if anything you felt more drunk now you were outside than you did when you were inside.

The streetlights shone down dimly on the sidewalk as you began walking in the direction of your apartment silently.

You looked over the railing at the water swishing gently in the wind causing the moon’s reflection to swirl around magically within it.

“Aren’t you cold?” Hotch broke the silence surrounding you both with his question.

You didn’t speak but shook your head, if anything you were very used to the cold weather, and this was nothing.

He chuckled to himself as he noticed you swaying ever so slightly as you walked the alcohol taking effect.

You looked down at the sidewalk noticing small circles beginning to tarnish the gray colour making it darker and darker with time.

It was raining.

After all that, after wanting to enjoy the cool weather and the night’s air, it was raining.

Before you could even speak the heaven’s opened abruptly showering water down onto both of us, neither of you carrying an umbrella.

Hotch quickly took off his coat and held it above his head with one arm, without a second thought he wrapped his other arm around you pulling you close to him. “Hold that side up and we can both stay dry- well, dry enough.” He laughed slightly at the situation which made you crack a smile too.

“Now I wish I had taken a cab.” I grumble with a hint of amusement.

The rain splashed around us creating ambience in the street that was silent, silent besides the water and yourselves.

You looked towards the man holding you close and realized you didn’t even react when he’d pulled you in so tightly. In fact, you felt safe, incredibly safe.

You continued to walk forward but your eyes were locked onto the side of his face admiring every feature of him. You couldn't tell if you were looking at him so freely because you were tipsy or because in the moment you just didn't care anymore.

"Trust us to get stuck in this weather." He chuckles which breaks the silence turning his head to look towards you causing you to join gazes.

A few seconds passed your eyes interlocked before you shyly look away.

Definitley the alcohol.. you thought to yourself, you felt overwhelmingly embarassed that you had been caught.

"Are you ok?" He questioned wondering why you had been glancing his way.

"Y-yeah." You stutter realizing he had totally noticed you mildly gawking at him.

"How have you been recently?" You changed the topic quickly before you got too flustered.

He was quiet for a few seconds before he finally responded, "I'm good." He spoke quietly but loud enough for you to hear. His arm around your waist growing slightly tighter and his fingers gripping at the dress you were wearing.

"Actually-" He continues, "I'm- to be honest, I've been feeling quite lonely." He sounded earnest, his face showing deep emotion and melancholy.

You thought clearly about your response knowing this was a sore subject for him.

"Yeah, I- get that." A comforting smile appeared on your face as you leaned closer into him, his warmth shrouding you as the wind swirled and the rain fell.

You tightened your grip on the coat above you looking straight ahead awaiting his response patiently knowing not to pry.

He stayed silent, you felt a pang in your chest knowing he was likely swallowing himself whole in his own mind.

"Do you ever think you'll feel it again?" You mutter gently looking at the wet floor below you sparkling under the street lights.

He knew what you were talking about- the feeling of connection, deep connection, love even.

He still didn't respond but his face grew heavy and dim.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-" You began to talk apologising for feeling light you'd hit a nerve but he butted in interuppting you before you could finish.

"I do." His voice is dry and hoarse, you can tell he's tired and yet he's still contuining to keep you dry and walk you home.

The rain grew lighter and stopped bouncing off the ground, but you could still see it splashing and rippling into puddles surrounding you.

The rest of the walk was quiet but not uncomfortable, his prescence was enough.

"It's just up ahead." You smiled looking up to the familar street.

As you approached your apartment you release the coat from your grasp and lower it infront of you.

The rain was light but still there, the drops gently hitting your eyelashes and hair glistening in the moonlight.

"I guess this is goodnight." Hotch spoke his words solemn.

You held the keys to your apartment in your hand and you looked down at the before inserting the key into the main door.

You turned to look at him, "Thank you." A small smile pulled at your lips. "for all of this, for everything."

His eyes looked directly at you, full of emotion.

Your heart hurt for him and you thought for a moment before speaking, "Come inside?" you state but it ends as sort of a question.

His furrowed brows raise slightly having not expected the suggestion.

"You don't have to of course but it's dry and warm." You try to lighten the mood as you pushed open the door.

"I shouldn't." His voice was conflicted and you could tell he was trying to hold back what he really wanted to say.

His rejection hit you even harder and you looked down at your hand on the door a sadness spreading across your face.

"But." You turn around as he continues to speak.

As you do his arm reaches out and grabs your wrist pulling you close to him.

He looks down at you, his big brown eyes full of secrets and full of feeling.

Before either of you could speak or decide to pull away his lips crashed into yours.

A small yelp left your mouth but soon enough you melted into the kiss. It was deep and passionate and you felt his hand reach around your back to pull you even further into him.

All of the time you had spent together was finally coming to it's peak, all the shared conversations and deep emotions colliding with just one kiss.

As it came to its end you both looked at each other full of emdearment.

"Goodnight." A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he said it.

You couldn't help but feel giddy inside as you replied, "Goodnight Aaron."

As you turned back around and pushed the apartment building door open again you took one more glance at him before he began his own journey home.

You felt as though an entire weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, the feeling of relief was so strong.

You let out a pleased sigh before finally heading into your apartment.

[under-the-dirt]

Hiii :3 I have another song one-shot idea, but with whatever character you want

I hope you have a good day :3

ok ilysm tytytyty i love getting ur song requests but the very first thing that came to mind the second i began this song was “FANAFAFAFAFFAFAFANFAB FNAF REFRENCE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️” bc i actually just have a squirrel brain. i’ve been wtaching the lore videos n playthroughs sm i’m so obsessed rn but i also thought of price bc i need more price daddy in my life. he’s so sexy. so, tytyty and a i wish you a very very ily <3

pairing: price x fem!reader

tags: sleeptalking, price is daddy, pet names :3, reader is a sleeptalker, ermrmrmrm a lil smut near the end.. fingering, overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex (guys pls don’t), ermm UNDER 13 DNIII!!! SHOO CHILDREN!! I WILL BLOCK U!!!

You’ve always struggled to sleep alone. Your therapist had told you it was a trauma response, makes sense. You’d gotten by with large teddy bears and music, but once you became a part of the TaskForce 141 you hadn’t been able to get either.

So, you’d barely been able to sleep. No one really noticed, except for Price. He could see the bags beneath your eyes, he watched you chug energy drinks when you thought people weren’t looking, and after you got hurt due to being unable to move quick enough from pure exhaustion he knew he just had to step in.

You were sitting in your bed, doing unnecessary paperwork, when there was a soft knock on your door and a soothing voice from the other side.

“Can I come in, love?” Price’s gravelly voice asks, and you of course let him in. He sits down on your desk chair while you resume your position on your bed. “I’ve noticed something ‘bout you, love.”

“What is it, sir?” You respond dutifully.

“Those bags under yer eyes.. An’ when you ‘s constantly drinkin’ them energy drinks.. They’re bad for you, you know that right?” He explains softly, looking at you with those gentle blue eyes.

“Yeah..”

“Can ye not sleep ‘r somethin’?” He asks, getting to the point.

“Not well, sir.” You reply, albeit ashamed, and he nods.

“Why not?”

“Since I was little I’ve been unable to sleep without someone or something next to me.” You explain, head down.

“Ah.”

“it wasn’t a problem until I got here, and I don’t have a bear. I doubt they’d even allow one.” You chuckle softly, and he hums.

“Could I help?” He questions gently, and from the look on his face it’s completely serious.

“Y-yeah I mean- If you want to..”

He nods, walking to the door and flicking the light off before climbing into your bed beside you.

“Alright, come on sweetheart.” He smiles, watching you lay down and fall asleep, both maintaining enough distance to remain comfortable. That was some of the best sleep you’d gotten since you arrived, and you hoped he’d continue.

He did, the next day, and the next, and every day after that unless he was on a long mission. At some point you’d moved to his room due to his bigger bed and for general convenience. You became more and more comfortable with him as the nights went on, and soon you were cuddled to his chest as you slept, mumbling whatever nonsense was in your mind. He never minded your cute habit, never thinking much of it, until one night you begin saying his name.. Innocently enough for a bit, until a few days later when you began saying his name in full sentences instead of quick mumblings.

“John.. mm.. want you so bad.. need you..” You whisper, and he chuckles. “Mm… love you..”

“What’s that, bunny?” He asks, running his hands along your waist as you continue mumbling.

“Love you, John..”

“Is that so?” He asks with a gentle chuckle, the rumble of which stirs you.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” You ask tiredly, rubbing your eyes and looking up at him.

“What’re ye mumblin’ about?”

“I wasn’t saying anything..”

“Oh really? You were just sayin’ that ye love me.. What’re ye dreamin’ about, bunny?” He purrs, voice getting slightly deeper and causing you to blush.

“Uhm.. nothing..”

“Thas’ all?” He coos, running his hands lower to your hips and teasing the waistband of your shorts.

You blush further. “I- well.. you were in it..”

“Oh was I?”

You nod.

“And what were we doing?”

“uhm..” You hide your face, not wanting to describe the things you did in your dream, when suddenly John’s hand slips beneath your shorts and taps your clit gently.

“Something like this..?” He purrs, rubbing your clit gently through your panties, and you let out a soft moan. He chuckles, sliding your panties to the side to feel the wetness between your folds. “Hmm.. so wet already..” He tsks, running his finger up and down through your folds and removing it, bringing it up to his mouth and licking your juices off. You stare at him, wide eyed, and he chuckles.

He reaches down again, looking at you for permission before slipping your shorts off and panties with it. He inserts two fingers into your cunt without hesitation, and you whimper at the sudden intrusion. He rubs your clit with his thumb as he begins gently pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside of you that has you moaning and arching your back. He quickly shuts you up by kissing you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth with feverish lust. Using his free hand, he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. You gasp at the feeling of it against your stomach, its pure size a shock, and reach down to stroke it gently. He groans into the kiss, and the sound makes you cum almost instantly without warning. He laughs and pulls his fingers put, running his cock through your folds and rubbing your overstimulated clit.

“God.. so perfect for me, aren’t ye?” He chuckles, slowly pressing the thick tip of his cock into your tight hole, groaning at the feeling of you fluttering around him. “Relax for me, lass.. God.. so tight” He grunts, pushing into you, listening to your moans and whimpers. After finally bottoming out, he stays still to let you adjust, before gently pulling back to thrust into you and slam into your g-spot.

“John.. ohmygod oh.. oh..” You moan and babble, his cock completely turning your brain off as he hits your g-spot over and over. “God- g-gonna- John..”

“You gonna cum? Go on, be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He commands, and you cum instantly, eyes rolling back into your head with a loud moan. He follows soon after, filling your tight pussy with his thick cum. “So good for me.. So good for me..” He praises, pulling put slowly and kissing you gently. He kisses your neck as you fall asleep, and to say that night was the best sleep you’ve ever gotten was an understatement.

that was pretty fun to write, sorry it took so long! i love getting song requests <33333 hope this is good!!!

[gatorlovebot]

Ghost is such a huge fan of forced quiet sex imo. Starts with telling you to shut up and then covering your mouth and ends with his fingers shoved SO far down your throat you're crying from the gagging as he plows you into the mattress, being so mean about you not being able to stay quiet <3

anon this got a little bit out of control and isn't exactly what you had described but my brain just couldn't stop thinking about this.

mdni. nsfw. cw: public sex (bar bathroom), mean simon.

i like too imagine him doing it when you guys are out. maybe you two are out at a bar with the rest of the taskforce, celebrating their safe return from a hard fought mission. after a drink or two you excuse yourself from underneath simon’s arm, heading towards the restroom. you don’t realize he followed you through the bar, big frame looming over you after your every step. it isn’t until you get into the dingy single person restroom that the door suddenly opens up as your trying to flip the lock. 

he’s on you in a moment, pushing you up against the sink, your hips bumping uncomfortably against the porcelain. “thought you could leave me alone out there, huh?” he questions, reaching between you to grasp the waist of your pants, shucking them and your underwear underneath the plumpness of your ass, exposing you to him.

you watch him spit onto his fingers before struggling to respond, “simon, i was just going to the ba-” you let out a squeal at the sudden intrusion of two of his long fingers in your cunt. 

he uses his other hand to grab at your chin, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. “do you want everyone to hear you? hear how fucking easy you are for me, letting me touch your pussy in some filthy washroom?” his words are harsh and mean and it makes your cunt clench around his fingers as they stretch you. 

“i think you fucking do,” he accuses, fingers stroking over the spot that leaves you gasping and trembling. “think you wouldn’t mind if some fucking bloke walked through that door right now.” his voice is low right against your ear.

he’s fucking with you, you know he is, but you fall into his trap easily. “no, no, simon, i don’t want-” you babble out in your own defense, but you're cut off when he places his big palm over your mouth and slide his cock into your hole. you gasp at the burn of the stretch, trying to pull away but there’s nowhere for you to go. you're stuck between the uncomfortable sink and his suffocating presence. after a few thrusts the burn finally subsides, your wetness coating his cock and making him fit snugly inside of your sensitive hole. 

he begins thrusting in earnest, loud slaps of skin filling the room as he strikes your ass, coloring the soft flesh red. you're whining out nonsense against the rough skin of his palm as he takes from you. “you say you don’t want anyone to hear but you won’t stop whining like a fucking bitch.” he snickers to himself, landing a particularly harsh slap against your ass that makes you gasp, high and sharp against his hand, the sound reverberating against the walls of the tiny bathroom.

 “i think you want someone to hear you like this,” he meets your eyes in the mirror, gaze harsh, smirk mean, “i think you want price to hear you getting fucked like this.”

your stomach drops at the mention of simon’s captain. it was just a harmless little crush you had on price, something that you admitted to simon early on in your relationship, just wanting to be honest. you thought john was handsome and kind but no matter what, you were unequivocally simon’s. 

you sputter against simon’s hand again, embarrassed and desperate, but your cries are interrupted when he shoves two fingers in your mouth, heavy against your tongue. “stay quiet, dummy, pretend it’s price’s fucking cock in your mouth.”

you do your best to try and relax your body against him, knowing that you’re not going to win whatever game he’s playing with you. he eventually brings his free hand down to grope at your pussy, stroking around your puffy and swollen lips that grasp around his cock. he trails his fingers up to your clit and applies just the right amount of pressure to have you drooling around his fingers in your mouth. your eyes are glassy and hazy as you meet his gaze in the mirror, you can’t even feel peeved at the way he leers at you, too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. 

as you finally tip over the edge your walls clench and pulse against his cock, milking him until he’s spent inside of you. you two take a moment to catch your breathes and you can’t even begin to think about walking out of here with how fucked out you feel. simon steps away from you for a moment, leaving you to brace yourself against the sink. he comes back with a wet paper towel, wiping it over your pussy, cleaning you up of the mess he made of you. he tosses the paper towel in the trash and then pulls your pants back up over your hips, the constricting material stings across your sore ass. 

he grabs another paper towel to wipe at the wetness under your eyes, “can’t have people thinking i made my little bird cry.” he chuckles to himself. when you pout back at him through the mirror he reaches again for your chin, angling your head back towards him so he can plant an apologetic kiss against your lips. “i missed you.”

you almost roll your eyes at his audacity, “so you fuck me in a gross bar bathroom?”

“would you have rather i fucked you on the table in front of everyone?” he’s quick to push back.

that time you do roll your eyes.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Here's what I don't get. When the Russia-Ukraine War started, the public opinion was all about supporting the Ukrainians, but you never heard any stories about Russian-Americans being victims of hate crimes.

Now, with the Israel-Hamas War, there's loads of stories about antisemitic and anti-Muslim hate crimes being committed in America.

What exactly made it okay to be hateful against American citizens who just happen to share religious or racial traits with the combatants of a war overseas?

You actually did see anti-Russian crimes in the beginning. There were some vandalizations and I believe also a few assaults/fights. But they were mostly ignored by the mainstream media because the narrative they were pushing is "Russia = evil" so reporting on anti-Russian hate crime might have softened that narrative.

And that's the main difference between the perception of the Russia-Ukraine war and the Israel-Gaza one. The media has gone all in on supporting terrorist rhetoric, irresponsibly reporting terrorist lies of "genocide" and the IDF targeting schools because they want to kill Palestinian children and all that nonsense. There is a concerted effort from most of the mainstream media and the left (though I repeat myself) to vilify Israel and every Israeli Jew. And if Jews outside of Israel suffer the predictable backlash, they don't care. They'll save those stories for after the war is over and they go back to pretending to care about the "Rise of anti-semitism" because it's election season and they can find a Trump quote to take out of context and blame for all the anti-Jewish hate they themselves just inflamed.

And since you mentioned anti-Muslim hate, the number of actual anti-Muslim crimes since October 7th in the US is actually less than the anti-Russian crimes after Russia attacked Ukraine, and while I absolutely don't condone those crimes, you can see the difference in how the media and the left is treating them. The crimes against Russians were mostly ignored. The crimes against Muslims are being treated as rampant, pervasive "Islamophobia" that needs a government taskforce to handle while anti-semitism is ignored or celebrated.

[lambiewrites]

I got called an OSHA Violation at work and since I’ve branded myself the Johnny MacTavish of my work place, I thought of this little thing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

• Working in a typical 9-5 with Johnny is either super fun or absolutely fucking miserable. He’s wired 90% of the time and absolutely feral.

• Talks your head off about nonsense until the manager/s (AKA: Price & Laswell) tell him “if you have time to lean, you have time to clean.” 🧼

•They beg him to work the registers because he’s a “people person”, but when he’s back in the stockroom…well, he’s nothing short of a nightmare.

•zero concept of personal space and knows no dangers.

•Held a box cutter up to his face obliviously because he had to wipe his nose.

•Crawled underneath a conveyer belt WHILE boxes were being pushed down it because he didn’t like the side he was standing on.

• Throw boxes like their shot-put balls (or whatever their called). Doesn’t matter if the boxes are stocked up higher and taller than he is, he’s still gonna throw them.

•SHOWS OFF

•Takes his shirt off when doing truck, doesn’t matter if it’s 0°F back in the stockroom, does it anyway.

•Everyone except Johnny wears headphones because he loves to talk and sing to the horrible retail music. Dances too. Has no shame.

•Steals people’s food and snacks even if their names are on it. (I have a Drabble of this!)

• Always has a Redbull or coffee even though he doesn’t need it? People have to force him to drink water.

•Spends his breaks gossiping with Kyle ❤️ (Sometimes Simon, if he’ll listen)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: I hope y’all liked that! And feel free to add more or ask about how the others would be in a typical 9-5! I think these are fun to write and yes, I have branded everyone as their own CoD character & trust me when I say this, I am definitely Soap at work. I have many more fun stories and ideas too ❤️ love you guys!

[severalowls]

Just watched Shin Godzilla which is my first time seeing a Godzilla film (the american ones don't count) and am equal parts delighted by the sometimes weird blend of sincerity and goofy comedy and genuinely quite horrifying scenes of destruction with... explosive train whips???

It didn't help that I was using bootleg fan subs which were mostly comprehensible but occasionally slipped into Spanish or got the word order totally backwards. Still able to tell what everybody was saying but required some deduction ("there will be a traffic death" -> "the traffic will be murder") but probably took the clear intentional satire edge of bureaucratic nonsense and weird nerd taskforce off some of it.

The dichotomy of action scenes.

[typingtess]

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch:  “Blood Bank”

The basics:  A shootout on a yacht owned by Arkady Kolcheck gets NCIS’s attention.

Written by:  Samantha Chasse co-wrote "Kill Beale Vol. 1" and wrote "Impostor Syndrome" and “Murmuration”.

Directed by:  Benny Boom directed "Ghost Gun", "767", "Fool Me Twice", "Pro Se", "Hail Mary", “Groundwork” and “Perception”.   

Guest stars of note:  Duncan Campbell returns as NCIS Special Agent Castor from “Let It Burn”, Vyto Ruginis joins season 14 as Arkady Kolcheck.  Matty Cardarople returns as Danny, who sold pastries in season 10’s “Into the Breach” and computer supplies in “Imposter Syndrome” in season 12,.  Kathleen Garrett as Miraslava Borisova, Dalia Rooni as Riffat Murad, Nikolay Moss as Kostas Orlov, Jonathan Kells Phillips as Rupert Richardson and Emily Morales-Cabrera as Assistant

Our heroes:   Deal with more Russian nonsense.

What important things did we learn about: Callen:  Giving a deposition. Sam:   Running a taskforce. Kensi:  Nancy Drew on the boat. Deeks:  Swedish nobility. Fatima:   Late. Rountree:   Bodyguard. Kilbride:  Appalled by Arkady’s safe house.

What not so important things did we learn about: Callen:  Now working on Sam’s taskforce. Sam:   Absent. Kensi:   Wields a mean serving tray. Deeks:   Wields a mean sword. Fatima:  Coffee fan. Rountree:   Lost the excuse book. Kilbride:  Found the excuse book.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange?  Not a mention, though I bet she knew Mira Borisova.

Who's down with OTP:  Kensi dropped her “Mom Tone” when she had to separate Arkady and Mira Borisova.  Kensi and Deeks were fine.

Who's down with BrOTP:   Fatima and Rountree have plans for covering for each other.  Fatima made a friend waiting for coffee.

Fashion review:    Callen wears a dark blue, long-sleeve tee.  Kensi has on an oatmeal pullover sweater that probably looked better in person than on the TV.  Deeks started the episode in a pale pink tee before wearing his Swedish Nobleman blue suit.  A red quarter-zip for Fatima.  Rountree started the episode with a black tee and what looked like a blue lightweight rain jacket before wearing his all black bodyguard gear.  Tell me if you’ve heard this before – blue suit, pale blue dress shirt, medium blue tie for the Admiral.  He also wears a trench coat and looks fantastic. 

Music:   "Makaha” by the Tikiyaki Orchestra is playing in the bar when the Admiral arrives to rescue Arkady.  Deeks and Arkady walk into the auction house with “Rasputin” by Boney M. playing.  A bit of the “Titanic” soundtrack pops up at the end.

Any notable cut scene:  Not today.

Quote: Arkady:  “Grisha?”

Kilbride:  “Guess again.  What sort of a moron decides to make a safe house from...whatever this place is?”

Arkady:  “Am I alive?”

Kilbride:  “Judging by the looks of this table, barely.”

Arkady:  “Listen, a Russian would not look for another Russian in a bar that serves rum-based drinks.  It is a brilliant and delicious plan.”

An Arkady-Kilbride spinoff would have worked.

Anything else:  On a yacht, a Russian woman is showing off the 43rd of the Czar’s Fabergé Eggs to buyers.  There are only 42 known eggs, she has the 43rd which “no longer exists, yet, there it is.”  She is looking for $7 million for the egg.

She wants to share champagne with her buyers but when she calls for one of her yacht staffers to bring a bottle, there is no answer.  The buyer and his bodyguard pull out guns and shoot the woman and her security staff.  They race off with the egg. 

The woman, however, is not dead.  The large necklace she wore acted as a bulletproof vest.

Walking into the office, Kensi and Deeks are debating Rosa watching a dating reality show.  Kensi assures Deeks that Rosa knows the show isn’t real.  This is news to Deeks, who thinks the program is real.  The two debate the contestants, including a “meatball specialist”.  A very amped up Rountree joins them, asking about going into the burn room.  Since it is 9AM on a Monday, neither Kensi or Deeks have a reason to do any early week burning.  Rountree tries to exit but is forced to explain the notebook he shares with Fatima.  It is a track of their excuses for when they are late.  “It’s the only way we can keep our stories straight!” 

Kensi mentions texting each other but Rountree thinks Kilbride would find a digital trail.  Fatima is late and he’s not sure what the excuse of the day will be.  And he needs that right now since Kilbride is looking for Fatima.  Rountree starts with a car appointment but that would mean Fatima scheduled it during work hours, angering Kilbride.  He changes to medical appointment but that worries Kilbride.  Suddenly Fatima has a dog – for an undercover operative, Rountree is bad at this.  And the dog was hit by a car.  Kensi and Deeks offer thoughts and prayers.

Fatima, however, is getting coffee.  Fatima chats with a woman waiting for coffee.  Riffat works for an agency finding housing for refugees from Afghanistan.  After trouble with the barista, Fatima is on her way.

Kilbride walks into an empty Ops, except for Rountree.  Based on the case that just arrived, Rountree wanted to do the debrief alone.  Two Russians were found dead on a yacht in Marina del Ray.  Demetri Fedrov and Simeon Babanin, former Russian military and now with the Wagner Group, are persons of interest in moving cultural and historical pieces of art.  The boat, the Diamond of the Ocean, belongs to Arkady Kolcheck.  “Why am I not surprised?”

Kensi and Deeks enter Ops with news that Arkady was attacked.  They know nothing about what happened on the boat the way Rountree and the Admiral know nothing about the attack on Arkady.  There is a “Who’s on First” vibe going on.  Arkady was attacked at his house that morning but was able to move to a safe house.  He contacted Callen, who wants Kensi and Deeks to ping Arkady’s burner phone.  Callen is giving a deposition so he’s unavailable. 

Deeks thought Arkady was out of the spy business but Kensi thinks it could be his past causing Arkady trouble.  The Admiral isn’t so sure that Arkady is out of the spy business.  Rountree offers to call Callen but the Admiral is going to find Arkady himself.

In a Tiki bar, a rather overserved Arkady is looking for “Grisha” but gets Kilbride instead.  Kilbride is wondering what kind of “moron” makes a Tiki bar a safehouse.  Arkady is wondering if he is alive.  Explaining himself, Arkady tells Kilbride that a Russian would not look for a Russian in a place that serves rum-based drinks.  “It is a brilliant and delicious plan.” 

Ignoring what has led the two of them to “this idiotic moment”, Kilbride wants to know what happened.  Leaving his house that morning, two men with guns came up to Arkady’s car.  He high-tailed it out of there, running over one of the gunmen’s feet.  Kilbride asks if that’s what caused the shooting on Arkady’s boat.  Arkady is confused, he hasn’t owned a boat for 40-years.  “Must be another Arkady Kolcheck.”   Saying he is just a typical ex-KGB Agent who defected to America, “who could want me dead?”

On the maybe not Arkady’s yacht, the original thought is murder-suicide.  Looking at the lack of blood spatter behind one body and the way the blood pooled, Kensi thinks this is a set-up.  The investigation says there was no video but that doesn’t make sense.  A boat this big and fancy would have security cameras, according to Kensi/Nancy Drew.  Deeks tries a mirror but it is one way, not two.  Kensi found a camera in the smoke detector – “Nancy Drew you did it again.”

In the boat shed, Arkady is finishing a call with Anna as Callen pours some coffee.  Arkady isn’t a fan of the boat shed because it smells like a crab shack.  His safe house has blended drinks.  On the plasma screen, Rountree and an arriving Fatima have the footage from the camera Kensi found.  Most of the footage is useless, it was over there table where the Russian woman was showing the egg.  The woman, however, drags herself into the camera’s range.  Fatima has facial rec but Arkady already knows – “Mira.”  And he claims to know her biblically. 

Mira is Miraslava Borisova, a Moscow museum curator turned black market antiquities dealer.  With Borisova’s access, Arkady was able to put her in contact with people interested in buying what she could provide.  But that was 40-years ago.  Callen wants Arkady to set up a meeting.

Outside of a fancy hotel in Beverly Hills, Callen is surprised Borisova would hide in such a public place.  Being a well dress, wealthy woman, Arkady thinks she’d fit right in.  He’s a bit nervous about reuniting with Borisova.  Callen offers some advice and help but Arkady remind him that he was doing this before Callen was born.  The roach coach is now a plumbing company van with Kensi and Deeks inside with a lot of surveillance equipment.  Callen tells them that Arkady dated Borisova before he met Anna’s mother. 

Rapping on the door, Arkady finds it opened.  He calls for Borisova as he walks inside.  She has a rather heavy coffee table book and starts beating him with it.  Callen asks Kensi and Deeks what’s going on and they’re not sure.  Back in the room, Borisova is furious that Arkady finally calls and it the day she was almost killed.  To get her attention, Arkady pops her with a couch decorative pillow.  She returns the favor. 

Kensi yells that “they’re fighting” – Borisova thinks Arkady set her up in Malta and set her up today – while Deeks is enjoying the “geriatric WWE”.  Kensi wonders if they should go in.  Callen isn’t sure.  Deeks brings up the time Arkady made them de-booby-trap his car because Arkady couldn’t remember how he booby-trapped it.  Kensi brings up a failed mission in Chechnya.  Callen talks about Arkady cursing his engagement to Anna.  They’re going to let Arkady and Borisova work things out for a while.

After Borisova picks up the luggage rack, getting NCIS’s attention, Arkady threatens to remove the tag from a rare Beanie Baby.  When he does, Borisova really starts knocking him around.  Callen, Kensi and Deeks walk into the hotel room just as Arkady goes flying.

Near Ops, Fatima runs into the Admiral while she tried to evade him.  She apologizes for her tardiness.  Fatima tells him her dog is doing well.  The Admiral, a dog lover, wants her to bring in the dog as he recovers.  In fact, he insists. 

In Ops, Rountree apologizes for freaking out and going with the dog.  Fatima is more concerned about finding a dog.  On the big screen, Kensi and Deeks are in the boat shed.  Rountree identified the missing object from the yacht – it is one of eight missing decorative eggs, made for the Russian royal family.  While killing Borisova to steal the egg makes sense, why go after Arkady?  Fatima sends a picture of the egg to Callen, who is interrogating Mira.  Arkady is on the back deck in a time out.

Callen shows Borisova the egg.  She plays dumb but knows she’s been caught.  Callen asks why was the boat registered to Arkady.  Again, Borisova plays dumb until Callen says he’s going to turn the yacht over to the DOJ.  They have a special taskforce that confiscates Russian belongings.  After explaining it is her boat, Borisova tells Callen that she has put Arkady’s name on everything she’s bought – from condos in Cape Town to safe deposit boxes.  For all the world knows, they’ve been partners in crime for 40-years.  It is the perfect revenge – “petty but effective.” 

Bringing up the attack on Arkady, Callen believes someone going after Borisova tried to kill Arkady as part of her fake partnership.  Since the men who robbed her thinks she dead, she’s not interested in talking.  Callen is – the men are still after Arkady and it is Borisova’s fault.  

The men on the yacht were new clients and vetted by an auction house.  Callen is surprised – why would an auction house be involved.  Antiquities have to be stored carefully not in a storage locker rented by the month.  The only people who knew about the sale were the auction house, buyers and the seller, Alexey Pasternik.  Pasternik was motivated – he wanted the sale.  Moving the item quicky meant selling at a discount.  And that means he’s the problem.

Alexey Pasternik died three-days earlier.  He “threw himself” from a 12-floor condo by going through the window.  A suspicious death.  Fatima has a map of billionaires like Pasternik who left Russia days before the Ukraine invasion.  More than half are dead. 

Callen tells Borisova about Pasternik’s untimely fall.  She tries to joke about the Russian national bird being a flightless bird because of all the falling Russians.  Callen wants to know what Pasternik was trying to get away from.  Borisova explains that the billionaires had their loyalty bought by the Russian government.  Lots of money was given to these people and now with the sanctions causing financial pain in Russia, the government wants the money back. 

The government was hiding their wealth with the billionaires – they are blood banks.  Since the government was not happy with the way Borisova was selling off the assets, they went after her and her partner, Arkady.

Doing a ton of exposition, Deeks explains that the money given to the billionaires to invest and spend was reclaimable.  Once the billionaire dies, the money goes back to Russia.  All the murders of the billionaires all over the world was to get back the money.  “This is so much bigger than we thought.”

In his office, Kilbride tells Kensi and Deeks on his smaller plasma screen that the DOJ will not be cooperating with NCIS.  With tactical nukes on the table, NCIS has to be involved in a discreet investigation.  An investigation without Callen, since he is joining Sam’s joint task force.  It is Kensi, Deeks, Fatima and Rountree on this one.

Since they don’t know the gunmen or how to smoke them out, Deeks thinks they should approach the auction house since the auction house still thinks Borisova and Arkady are in business together.  Arkady could approach the auction house to get an item and the insider in the auction house could tip off the gunmen.

Borisova is willing to help but only if she’s running things.  The auction house will have rules for wealthy clients and a well-dressed Deeks – fancy suit, tie, and a medal of some sort around his neck – is just that client as Swedish nobility.  She reminds everyone that the auction house protects objects, not people.  The fire suppression system removes all the oxygen in a room to stop a fire.  If there is a person there, well, that’s a problem for the person.  For her cooperation, Borisova wants a second chance.

Dressing in the boat shed restroom, Borisova brings Arkady a special suit.  He apologizes for leaving her in Malta.  She sort of does the same with today’s assassination attempt.  “Let’s just call us even.” 

Walking into the auction house wearing a tan three-piece suit, a light blue dress shirt and a red paisley tie, Arkady introduces himself to the woman in the reception area.  He is followed by Deeks and Rountree, who is all in black, dressed as a bodyguard.  Asking for Rupert and giving his account number, provided by Borisova in the plumbing van with Castor, Arkady and Deeks welcomed in.  Rountree must wait in the reception area – company policy.

In a waiting area, Rupert is excited to greet Arkady after working with Borisova on his behalf for years.  Rupert starts speaking to Deeks in Swedish – that goes poorly.  Rupert is going to speak to Deeks while Arkady opens his locker.  Arkady is freaking out – he doesn’t have the key.  The earwigs are failing – the building is secure.  When Kensi asks about Borisova, Castor is shown out cold and Borisova is gone.

In the vault area, Arkady is met by an armed Borisova. 

With no response from Arkady or Castor, Kensi and Rountree are going to move into the auction house. 

Entering the locker behind Borisova is Arkasha, the man who shot her on the boat.  Arkasha thought he was going to have to kill Borisova twice that day but she cut a deal with Arkasha today.  She would kill Arkady, turn over her client list and she gets back the egg and her freedom.  Arkasha suggest she shoot Arkady in the head.  She doesn’t.  Instead, she knees Arkasha where it hurts, turns on the CO-2 suppression system and sets off all sorts of alarms.

Making his way through the building, Rountree gets to the vault but can’t open the door.  Rountree shoots open the vault door to find Arkady.

When the alarm goes off, so does Rupert.  He pulls a sword from the wall before Deeks can get his gun out. 

Rountree finds Arkasha and subdues him before they both suffocate.

Arkasaha’s men have Arkady and Borisova.  Kensi causes a distraction and takes one henchman out. 

Deeks finds his own wall sword and he and Rupert duel.  Deeks wins in a way too short scene.

Kensi is stuck between Arkasha’s two men.  Arkady tosses her a silver platter and a vase.  She takes them both out before Deeks arrives.  Promising to make a scene to distract Kensi and Deeks, Arkady wants Borisova to flee.  She’s not going anywhere.  Kensi puts her in cuffs.

Back in the office, Rountree asks Fatima for friends dinner - tacos or udon.  She has to pass -  she’s having a friends dinner with Riffat.  Rountree thinks that’s great.  He also found a shelter that lets people borrow pets – she could use that for the Admiral.  Fatima is just going to tell the truth.  That’s when the Admiral arrives with the excuses notebook.  He also noticed all the same frappuccino cups in Ops so Fatima needs to come on time.

On the back deck of the boat shed, Kensi asks Arkady if he is alright.  He has Anna, Grisha – his family.  He wouldn’t rewrite one minute of his life if it meant he wouldn’t have them.  Kensi asks about Borisova.  She will always be on his credit score with all the accounts she took out.  Besides, that means she is thinking of him.  He shows her the beanie baby.  Kensi tells him she knows it is worthless and so does he.  She says goodnight.

Arkady watches Kensi leave and pulls the beanie baby apart.  Inside is a very expensive necklace.  With the soundtrack from “Titanic” playing, he holds it over the water.  Then decides it was too expensive to drop into the water.  Instead, Arkady takes it with him as he leaves.  Anna calls.  Suddenly, he wants to talk about the open bar at the wedding.

What head canon can be formed from here:    There is a continuity issue because in “Answers”, Deeks joked about writing for a reality series.  Now he’s shocked to find out they are scripted.

My goodness this was a chatty episode.  TV should be show, don’t tell.  This was all tell, tell, tell.  And a generic tell, tell, tell.  This episode works completely in season three.  In season six.  In season nine – you get the point.  A mention of Callen’s wedding here and there but otherwise, Hetty could have picked Arkady at the bar, Sam or Callen could have been on bodyguard duty instead of Rountree. 

And I know the lack of Sam (all) and Callen (a lot) in this episode has to do with the upcoming crossover episodes but just have Sam up on the big screen in Ops telling Callen to drop everything, he’s needed. 

It wasn’t a bad episode – and anytime Arkady shows up, the fun level goes up, up, up – but it just wasn’t much of an episode.

Episode number:   This was episode nine of season 14 (though it was filmed after “A Long Time Coming”), episode 311 overall.

[moklebutt]

Gonna be using tumblr to share some writings. feel free to ignore, mostly self insert with some friends!

Dear Axi,

Hey. It’s been a bit. I hope missions have been going well. Hope the team is well. Can’t begin to tell you how much I miss everyone. Partially because this isn’t very secure, partially because I never have the word.

I might be coming back to base soon. Not with the taskforce, just on site. I’ve been told it's uncouth for someone to come back to the armed forces after being admitted. I think Capt. pulled some strings. I’m doing a lot better. Haven’t wanted to walk into the sea for months. 

Probably for the best. Christ, I missed being with the dogs. I’ve been back where we did basic, they got some new recruits and pups. I showed them what to do. Trained for about six months. 

I’ve been trying to write you since I got out of the hospital. But I kept getting “return to sender” as though the address was wrong. My wound has fully healed at least. But it turns out telling your CO that you want to “turn your service revolver on yourself” is not a great thing to say after spilling your guts to someone else. Physically and… uh… well. I assume he told you what happened.

Also turns out? I’m dumb. The address was wrong. I finally asked someone close. I had a few numbers swapped… oops. Well. You’ll have a bunch of letters to read when I get back. Some photos of the puppies too.

Next month, first Tuesday, I’ll be back on base. William, Albert, and some new friends will be coming too. I’m helping with the bite work here. Give everyone my love if they want it. 

-Fives <3

Axi blinked. She couldn’t fucking believe it. Riley was alive? And safe? And coming home?

“LEE! Get in here!” She yelled, clutching the letter in her hands.

Her husband rushed in, “what? What is it?”

Shoving the letter into his hands, Axi left the room and jogged into the common area. Her eyes darted between the four men that sat around the little coffee table.

“Where’s Price,” she inquired. Rune bumped his finger at the door to the kitchen, smiling politely at her. Axi thanked him before continuing her journey, leaving the group a little confused in her wake.

Spotting her target, she went in. Axi needed answers. Now.

…

Leon plopped down on the beanbag chair in the common room, gripping the letter. Wordlessly he handed it to Ghost, who was sitting closest to Leon.

A small head tilt, “Kennedy, what is this?”

“Just read it. Out loud,” Leon teared up, his emotions catching up.

…

“What the fuck, Price?” Axi almost screamed. Nonsense about a letter and Fives falling from her tongue.

The captain bit his tongue, wanting to put the small woman in her place. But this was not the time. Insubordination could slide for now. He had to explain Riley’s absence.

He sat down at a table, gesturing for her to take a seat as well.

“Truthfully, I assumed you knew. She told me she had been writing to you,” Price started, seeing the tears welling in Axi’s eyes, “but it seems you never got them. As far as I am aware, she just assumed you were ignoring the letters. Fives never brought them up after she was discharged.”

Axi took a deep breath. Stilling herself, “the letter I just received. Two things, sir?”

Price nodded, she continued.

“The first. She said she’s coming home? Is that true?”

“That would be news to me, but Laswell did mention the base getting a few more bodies soon. Bowers and her dogs would be bodies.” He genuinely hadn’t heard anything besides that cryptic message. It would make some sense. There were other people on the base. It was just the task force in the building they occupied, but the base was large and sprawling.

“And the second thing. Riley mentions spilling her guts to someone. Besides the stabbing. It seems like she said a lot and got a shitty response since she told you she wanted to off herself afterwards. Who hurt her? I need to know.”

Price sighed, “it’s not a concrete answer. But…”

…

“Signed, Fives,” Ghost said, voice wavering just slightly.

“Kennedy, this is a sick prank. She was discharged. We know this,” Gaz calmly stated, trying to take it all in.

“It’s not a prank, Garrick. This is her hand writing. She did the stupid thing where she dots the i in puppies with a heart,” Ghost retorted, slapping the paper to emphasize his words.

Gaz yoinked the paper from the larger man’s hands, bickering with him the whole time. Leon joining in to get his points across. Rune kicked back and watched, enjoying the show.

No one noticed as Soap had slipped away, heading back to his suite.

Well. No one but Axi, who was now hot on his tail. She would have her fucking answers, even if that meant confronting the man Riley had accidentally fallen for.

…

Axi coaxed Soap to spill everything. Threatened would be a better word.

But. As she learned:

Soap hadn’t meant for their little fling to turn into anything more than a one off. But Riley made that so difficult. After discussing things with Ghost (trust is key in a relationship such as theirs), Riley and Soap had entered into a fun little no strings attached relationship. 

Fives. She had gained feelings for Soap. More than just physical attraction and lust. 

Soap said that Riley had tried to hide it, to fight it, but it was obvious. He didn’t care. Hell, he would admit he was feeling the same. 

They had promised to have a conversation about the relationship after Riley got back from an intel mission.

Things went south and she was badly injured. Axi knew that. Riley had been in the hospital, she had been stabbed. Almost gutted.

What Axi didn’t know was that Soap went to visit Riley. Riley confessed, letting him know that he could call off everything.

“I fucked up 411. I fucked up hard.”

“What did you do, Soap?”

“I cried.”

… 

A few weeks later, just as promised, Riley appeared. Well. Really her dog did. 

Having trouble sleeping, Soap had been the first one up since the letter arrived. And since his conversation with Axi. He had been on his way to grab a protein bar from the kitchen when he saw the sable borzoi lazing on the couch. In Riley’s favorite spot.

He went to pet the dog, pulling back slowly at the last second, remembering the last time he did. Who knew sighthounds had such a nasty bite!

Letting the massive dog sleep, he wound his way out of the building. Earbuds in, Soap began his morning run, a little warm up before whatever training he picked to distract himself.

…

Axi had been the next to wake up. Which was odd. She was never up before the sun. Years of being in the service couldn’t kick that habit. But yet here she was, making her way to grab a snack.

“William!” She gasped, spotting the small horse, “how I missed you!”

Scrabbling on to the couch, she hugged the dog for dear life. His tail thumping impossibly hard against her calves. William nipped lightly at Axi’s hands, begging for pets, before sacking out again. 

Axi too drifted back to sleep, the borzoi keeping her warm.

…

Perhaps by fate, perhaps by chance, Soap found his warm up run ending at the kennels on the far side of the base. Roughly two miles from where he started. 

While doing a few stretches, Soap heard one of the gates clang open. 

He jumped.

She froze.

Riley waved gently, a few tears dripped down, disrupted only by the grin plastered on her face.

“Morning, Soap. It’s great to see you,” she said, a little nervous.

“Riley,” was all he said, moving to grab her tightly in his arms. He squeezed, making sure she was real. He had fucked up before. Had said the wrong words. This was his fault.

“Johnny,” she whispered, nuzzling his chest, not giving a shit about how sweaty he was, “none of this was your fault.”

“I said that out loud?” She nodded into his chest as a ‘yes’.

They stood together for a moment.

“Your dog is on the couch,” Soap said, breaking the silence.

Riley laughed, breaking the hug, “so that’s where he bolted off to.”

“Would you like to come collect him?”

Riley nodded, “let me grab some things.”

…

Soap and Riley reentered the base, finding everyone else to be awake and hanging around the kitchen. He left her to deal with the majority of the gang, heading off to finish his exercise. 

Ghost was the first to look up, his eyes going wide behind his mask upon seeing the blonde woman stroll through the door. 

“Fives!” He shouted, getting up to say hello. He was beaten by Gaz, who had wrapped her into a tight hug, ruffling her short hair.

Riley laughed and hugged everyone, exchanging greetings and playful threats and promises to explain everything when she had time. 

Ghost filled her in on mission updates, not caring that the information was classified. She was team for fucks sake. Riley intently listened to all the gory, graphic details. 

“Can’t believe I’m back,” she said, gripping his and Gaz’s hands, grounding herself.

“We’re happy you’re okay, Fives,” Price beamed, “it’ll be good to see you around.”

She nodded, “all of you are always welcome to come watch and participate in training. The cadets get tired of wearing the bite suits.”

…

Axi awoke, mildly cold as her space heater had walked off. Stretching, she accidentally smacked Rune in the knee.

“Good morning, 411, glad to see you’re alive,” Rune smiled, it was his trademark afterall, “Riley is here. She flew in last night.”

Axi jumped up, “well, then let’s fucking say hello!”

“Everyone else already has, she’s been with Soap in his quarters for a bit. The door is open if you want to stop by,” Rune told her. Axi glared Soap shouldn’t be anywhere near her. Especially not alone. 

Axi stomped off, not hearing Rune tell her that William was sleeping on her bed. Rune rolled his eyes and continued watching whatever John Wayne flick was on today.

[water-pokemon-appreciator]

Maybe you should get help from the taskforce, don't they specialize in this nonsense

This seems a bit under their paygrade doesn't it...

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Hi~~

Just wanna say I love your posts you remind me of one of my best friends and I love it.

Can I please please please ask you to write on where everyone on the task force is like ten minutes from walking in the door and we insist on giving L head despite his protests thx~~

You’re shifting on your knees in front of him, excitement building as you tug his cock out of his boxers.

“My love, we do not have time for this nonsense. The Kira Taskforce will be here in a short while.”

You giggle and smile up at him.

“You’ll just have to be fully in the moment then, i’m sure you can do it.”

L shakes his head, sigh whispering out as you slurp the tip into your mouth.

“Dear, I do not want my colleagues to see me in such a compromising position.” He nearly chokes at the end of his sentence, your hands coming up to stabilize yourself as you begin to bob your head, saliva dripping down to the hairy base of his cock.

He tries to explain to you why you shouldn’t be doing this but you really don’t care, your thirst for him needing to be quenched. So he lets you have your fun, going at your own pace for a few minutes until he realizes how little time you have left and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He makes sure you nod your agreement when he asks if he can take control and then fists your hair with his strong hands as he thrusts his hips rhythmically, stuffing your poor throat full of his drooling tip over and over again until he finally cums. White seed spilling up and out of your pink lips before he pulls out and casually tells you to swallow.

Obediently, you do so with a innocent look and use his legs to help you stand up before kissing him on the cheek with a giggle and sauntering off.

From up the stairs you hear the Taskforce walk in barely seconds after your departure, nearly choking when you hear Matsuda ask what the white stuff on the ground is.

[collective-remnants-rwby]

Futile...but Welcome

The big framing event for the RWBTREK AU isn’t really based off of the new Canon stuff we’re getting in Picard or Lower Decks, but instead the old Expanded Universe novels.

Specifically, the Star Trek: Destiny novels.

To set the stage, it is 2381. The Pakled Crisis has been resolved, the Federation is at peace, and the Romulans are recovering following the Shinzon Incident. The most startling news at the moment is that the USS Einstein ran afoul of the Borg and had to be destroyed by the Enterprise. Tragic, yes, but relatively low key considering the scale of past Borg nonsense.

Then, seemingly all at once, all communication, Federation or otherwise, is lost around the planets of Barolia and Acamar III. 

Such a massive coms blackout is unusual, to say the least, so ships are scrambled to the respective systems. But when the ships reach the systems, Starfleet HQ is rocked by the messages they send back. They are panicked. They are garbled. They are heavily distorted. But one word is clear:

Borg.

The assailants are Borg.

Shit.

Ships are scrambled of course, taskforces assembled, and Starfleet is put on high alert. Anti-Borg counter measures are put in place, and the Federation holds its breath.

Eventually, a single Starfleet shuttle limps its way out of the quarantined systems, but before it is destroyed, it delivers a message, oh so familiar, yet chillingly different.

We are the Borg. You will be annihilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness have become irrelevant. Resistance is futile... but welcome.

Identical messages have been sent to the Romulan Star Empire, Breen Confederacy, and Tzenkethi Coalition.

And the Long Night begins.

[meetmeatthecoda]

Do you know what irks me sometimes rewatching earlier seasons? It's the clear Lizzington arc the writers had put in. The one that they somehow had a memory wipe or retconned themselves and suddenly daddygate is the plot line. Like it makes no sense. Why introduce and start the Lizzington overtures if you weren't going to finish the damn symphony. Why write the poetry if you were just going to burn it halfway through? Why lay down the foundations for what probably would have been important information later on only to not come back to them ever again or give some half-assed explanation (i.e. Red's back scar and Liz's hand scar).

And the entirety of Tom's presence on the show irks me too. What was the logical point of keeping Tom around for god knows how many seasons, but it was about ten seasons too long. He would have worked fine as a background character staying as the manipulative, lying, betraying double agent that he is and staying dead. He was treated as the lynchpin for Liz to the family and life she wanted. But how can that be when that was all a lie and not genuine? The taskforce is her family. They could have focused more on that, the taskforce as a support system for Liz. They were as normal as it could have been for her. They didn't have to put her against them.

Tom was portrayed as Liz's desire to continue that "normal" life. And that he was a saint, a redeemable character who deserves a second chance, forgiveness and redemption from Liz. How did he get elevated to such high standards. I would have thought that's Red's department, Liz being his second chance and all that. Instead of providing Liz with character development, they went backwards and tore her character apart season by season.

I sometimes sit wondering why the writers jumped ship and started writing nonsense. Like if this was their way of keeping the mystery alive or throw red herrings, it's absolute pig's ass.

YES, ANON, PREACH 👏👏👏 Seriously, so much great stuff here, I agree wholeheartedly with everything you've brought up!! 🙌🙌 Diving in with issue #1: YES, THAT LIZZINGTON ARC. That bold, innovative, original, special, beautiful arc that was so firmly established in the pilot & the entire first season?? That gorgeous arc that went slowly by the wayside, dying a slow & painful death over the course of eight, long, endless seasons??? That arc???? Yeah, the only thing sadder than the quiet decimation of Lizzington is the way they've tried to pretend it never existed in the first place 🥲

(Oh & anon! I have to say I love your analogy of "why introduce the Lizzington overtures if you weren't going to finish the damn symphony?" As a musician, the BEAUTIFUL accuracy of this really resonates with me: the function of an overture, after all, is to establish the musical themes for the audience so they will recognize them when they return later throughout the symphony... which is very much like laying the canon, mythology, & symbolic groundwork for the upcoming theories & relationships in a piece of media. Buttttt TPTB clearly didn't watch that Sweeney Todd episode of The Office where Darrell perfectly explained this 😒)

ALSO yesss anon, the rushed & half-assed "explanation" for Liz's scar that we got in 8.22?? Yeah, not satisfying in the slightest & - mOrE iMpOrTaNtLy - the fact that Red's back scars were never addressed again?? When it could have been one of the most beautiful, emotional, fulfilling interactions in the show between the two main characters??? Not to mention the thing that probably would have pushed us over the edge into a long-awaited Lizzington kiss???? Yeahhh I'll never not be bitter about that 🙃

AND OMG YES. The fact that TPTB used T*m as the representation of Liz's "normal, long-desired, family life" when he was originally supposed to die in the fucking pilot - is hilarious. And you make such a good point, anon: the task force could have been a much stronger & more believable group if TPTB had leaned into it & just let them be a family. It would have brought a lovely, emotionally fulfilling depth to the crime procedural basis & given us more reason to root for the characters, especially Liz. In fact, I think my favorite episode of the show is that one (can't remember titles lmfao) where the whole team goes to Paris for some op & they all work together in a cafe to get the info they need - Liz, Ressler, Samar AND Aram!! And it's unusual that I even care about scenes Red isn't in, but I remember so thoroughly enjoying that scene & episode bc it showed that kind of light-hearted camaraderie that we got so little of with the task force. So, if T*m had just been killed of in the pilot as intended... just think of the development we could have had amid the task force AND between Red & Liz!! It's... just so sad to think about. Oh & lastly? Yes: Red should have been Liz's second chance, just as she was his. What a deep, emotional, full-circle, satisfying, beautiful story that would have been 😭

In conclusion, dear anon, I (clearly) sometimes sit & wonder the very same things as you - "why did the writers jump ship & start writing nonsense" - which makes it very validating to receive this ask, so I thank you so much!! 🥺 I appreciate you & your thoughts, & much, much love to you, my friend!! ❤️