#but like they didn’t go to school in the 2000s I guess lol

[crmsndragonwngss]

Watchin a show and someone said sidestep to the left and every pep rally from like 2nd to 12th grade immediately popped into my head

God… good times, man

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[atlabeth]

dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.2k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake. 

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point. 

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel. 

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there. 

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always. 

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour. 

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.” 

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?” 

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.” 

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.” 

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says. 

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes. 

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says. 

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.” 

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs. 

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.” 

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.” 

-

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file. 

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene. 

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house. 

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt. 

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control. 

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.  

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics. 

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it. 

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.  

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything. 

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect. 

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.” 

“What has he been charged for?” 

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail a little less than a year ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs. 

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind. 

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive. 

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.” 

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh. 

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising. 

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock. 

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford. 

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.” 

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?” 

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?” 

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says. 

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…” 

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house. 

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all. 

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub. 

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.” 

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?” 

He nods. “I had a change of heart.” 

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.” 

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.” 

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Louis area.” 

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him. 

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things: 

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be. 

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school. 

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts. 

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says. 

You glower at him, but you stay silent. 

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.” 

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.” 

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” 

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?” 

You nod. “He lives with me.” 

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away. 

“Why is that?” Hotch asks. 

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too. 

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”  

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going. 

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.” 

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.” 

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?” 

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you. 

“Really?” 

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him. 

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her. 

And he didn’t even know when she died. 

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad. 

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went last year.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says. 

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb. 

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.” 

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.” 

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even. 

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.” 

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.” 

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.” 

“Do you want them to?” 

“…No.” 

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.” 

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.” 

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you. 

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.” 

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says. 

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.” 

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.” 

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door. 

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again. 

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up. 

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?” 

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.” 

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.” 

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret. 

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.” 

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case— 

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.  

You’ve changed a lot. So has he. 

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him. 

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind. 

-

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.” 

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!” 

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.” 

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts. 

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief. 

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe. 

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused. 

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss. 

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.” 

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.” 

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses. 

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once. 

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck. 

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on. 

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity. 

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs. 

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world. 

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air. 

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

- 

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger. 

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it. 

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.  

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing. 

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people. 

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong. 

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you. 

Because god— what are the odds? 

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother? 

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years. 

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time. 

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you. 

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.” 

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties. 

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. 

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?” 

“Not one for small talk,” you remark. 

“I never have been.” 

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.” 

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now. 

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face. 

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.” 

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.” 

“And home is?” 

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.” 

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says. 

“Sources can lie.” 

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.” 

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.” 

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up. 

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had. 

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened. 

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”   

“None of those sound like questions,” you say. 

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly. 

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

“You don’t know,” he repeats. 

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I stay out of his business.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it?”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.” 

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?” 

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.” 

“You didn’t tell him—” 

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?” 

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse. 

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.” 

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.” 

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.” 

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?” 

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.” 

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply. 

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly. 

“And you’re wrong, by the way.” 

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken. 

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.” 

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you. 

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.” 

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.” 

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. You know he already knows it, but it still seems to have some effect on him. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.” 

“…I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least. 

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.” 

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.” 

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.” 

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.” 

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron. 

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“You know th—” 

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.” 

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.” 

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file. 

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking. 

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.” 

“The profile—” 

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.” 

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.” 

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly. 

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this. 

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right. 

You have to be right. 

The room feels even colder. 

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do. 

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him. 

-

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room. 

“She does not like you.” 

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie. 

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.” 

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands. 

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor. 

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.” 

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.” 

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him. 

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him. 

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things. 

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.” 

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again. 

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.” 

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.” 

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.” 

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation. 

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.” 

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego. 

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.” 

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside. 

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch… 

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore. 

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you. 

“They sent a new one in,” you say. 

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual. 

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off. 

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.” 

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation. 

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time. 

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks. 

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks. 

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says. 

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet. 

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong. 

-

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier. 

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once. 

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron. 

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s chest as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard. 

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you. 

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round. 

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed. 

Aaron says your name, and you hum. 

“Are you listening?” he asks. 

“Of course,” you say. 

“Your eyes are closed.” 

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?” 

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly. 

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully. 

Your eyes open and you frown. 

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate. 

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.” 

“…Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?” 

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?” 

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron. 

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction. 

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up. 

“Go for it,” you finally say. 

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?” 

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.” 

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.” 

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder. 

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything. 

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand. 

Sometimes you need reminders. 

“I love you too.” 

-

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.” 

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs. 

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third. 

No one expected this to happen so soon. 

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt. 

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work. 

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation. 

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved. 

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it. 

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press. 

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount. 

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.” 

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.” 

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.” 

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on. 

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.” 

-

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight. 

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city. 

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information. 

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.” 

“What are they?” Hotch asks. 

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says. 

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks. 

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.” 

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.” 

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.” 

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests. 

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.” 

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?” 

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.” 

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully. 

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.” 

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.  

“And?” Hotch asks. 

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.” 

Hotch frowns. You? 

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.” 

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again. 

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.” 

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.” 

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up. 

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.” 

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.” 

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.” 

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died a year ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail nine months ago after a six year stint.” 

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.” 

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.” 

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.” 

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.” 

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.” 

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.” 

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says. 

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods. 

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him. 

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says. 

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks. 

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.” 

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him. 

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him. 

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?” 

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.” 

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.  

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?” 

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—” 

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.” 

“What would I do without you?” he asks. 

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.” 

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up. 

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him. 

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze. 

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind. 

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”  

And he does. 

-

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear. 

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale. 

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame. 

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner. 

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff. 

Of course you have to deal with this now. 

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down. 

“You’re already packed.” 

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.” 

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning. 

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask. 

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says. 

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.  

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks. 

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?” 

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.” 

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.” 

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit. 

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”  

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him. 

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?” 

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head. 

You take the box from him and smile thinly. 

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

-

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open. 

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.” 

“They haven’t been back, have they?” 

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail. 

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests. 

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.” 

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops. 

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff. 

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.” 

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit. 

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.” 

“I agree with you,” he says. 

“That’s it,” you muse. 

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up. 

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.” 

“…Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.” 

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?” 

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to. 

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.” 

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.” 

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says. 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“Then what are you saying?” 

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.” 

“What have they said about me?” he asks. 

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…” 

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.” 

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.” 

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.” 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.” 

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.” 

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home. 

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up. 

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before. 

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard. 

Then, there’s nothing. 

-

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is. 

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at. 

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims. 

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger. 

His hands tighten on the steering wheel. 

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters. 

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that. 

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him. 

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.  

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that. 

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?” 

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.” 

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.” 

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching. 

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up. 

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night. 

And now… 

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not. 

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?” 

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it. 

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.” 

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.” 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly. 

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him. 

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.” 

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words. 

-

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why. 

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes. 

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs. 

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops. 

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze. 

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.” 

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.” 

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body. 

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life. 

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.” 

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.” 

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?” 

“…You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.” 

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.” 

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.” 

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say. 

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.” 

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.” 

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises. 

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother was dead, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided. 

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?” 

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!” 

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.” 

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.” 

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to. 

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly. 

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget. 

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out. 

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw your way back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here. 

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now. 

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.” 

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.” 

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.” 

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.” 

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says. 

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats. 

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.” 

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.” 

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?” 

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.” 

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you. 

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns. 

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think. 

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?” 

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.” 

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave. 

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.” 

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.” 

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?” 

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.” 

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.” 

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.” 

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.” 

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.” 

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”  

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.” 

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you. 

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.” 

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you. 

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it. 

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground. 

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you. 

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him. 

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force. 

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead. 

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake. 

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms. 

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment. 

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.” 

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers. 

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron. 

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!” 

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete. 

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.” 

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name. 

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die. 

-

You wake up in the hospital alone.  

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you. 

The real surprise is that you wake up at all. 

Lucas is dead. 

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded. 

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real. 

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life. 

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day. 

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all. 

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life. 

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind. 

He was going to kill you. 

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU. 

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner. 

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him. 

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you. 

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly. 

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.” 

“And how long have I been here?” 

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.” 

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask. 

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…” 

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.” 

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.” 

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.  

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?” 

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start. 

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.” 

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.” 

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.” 

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!” 

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.” 

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—” 

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same. 

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life. 

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.” 

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues. 

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number. 

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.” 

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner. 

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.” 

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together. 

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.” 

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.” 

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit. 

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.” 

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.” 

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.” 

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out. 

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume. 

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.  

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.” 

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down. 

“Okay.” 

And he stays. 

This time, he stays.

[firephoenix23]

So I know a lot of the pilots of Disney shows have been going around but someone sent me the pilot of what slugterra was going to be and I thought I would talk about it because it is interesting. First off it’s really short only about 3 minutes but basically it’s Eli or Elias Stone chasing what looks to be Dr. Blakk with Pronto or Pinto as he is called in the short

I want to apologize in advance some of these photos are not the best quality but I did what I had to. First off Slugterra was not originally called that it was called Subterrainea which thank god they changed it that is kind of a mouth full and it was a lot more western than sci-fi western we get later. Like even the blasters look like guns.

But let’s address the elephant in the room, why does Eli looks so ugly in this show 😂😂 and so much younger too. I feel like in the current show they make Eli look younger by making everyone around him look jacked as fuck even though all the younger male models look buff as well. But in this show he literally looks like a middle schooler. And I guess Trixie is like his friend from school who is the only one who knows about his adventures to Subterrainea. We don’t know if she goes with him or not but she at least knows. But thank god they changed Eli’s color scheme to blue, orange, white, and black. He’s a little better to look at than green, red, and pale yellow. I do wonder why all the changes though. I’m going to be wondering that the whole time

Which is the other thing I want to address is that Eli or well ELIAS and BEATRIX go to SCHOOL! We don’t know if Elias is like the protector or just goes down for the lols but we do know that he is trying to juggle this secret double life of going to school like a normal kid but also protecting the secret of Subterrainea like wow NEVER heard that premise for a kid show before 😒

That’s why I’m glad they cut out the surface all together but kept the secret part. I think it makes more of an impact in slugterra especially since it’s like who knows what. Also it just makes more sense. Like what kid would escape the world of slugterra travel 100 miles up just to go to middle school. Like nah fam couldn’t be me. Also I don’t actually know if they are in middle school but come on look at them.

Pinto is literally just Pronto even down to the voice acting. I like that they had the comic relief character down first before the main character. Also funny note did you know that Pronto in canon has a twin brother named Pinto. In ROTE Will Shane says like oh I’ve met you before and Pronto says no you’ve met my identical twin brother Pinto. I just think it’s funny that it’s a little nod to his pilot name

Uh Dr. Blakk kinda looks the same except for the hat and the mecha beast. It didn’t look like he was using ghouls just regular slugs so I’m not sure what Elias is chasing him down for. Elias shows Beatrix that he got a slug from him and then she touches it and the school lights go out which brings in SOOO many questions. Like is the surface electricity powered by slug energy???

I was gonna mention the slugs next but they are relatively the same except design wise. They look a lot more stylized and detailed than in the show which makes sense gotta save money where you can. Be honestly I’m glad they changed them some of them are kinda ugly like the joker looking one.

There are so many other things like why did they change Eli’s last name, why did they give him a white wolf mecha instead of the white horse (probably because it looks cooler not gonna lie), why is Elias Stone so ugly 😂😂 so many questions. But I think it’s just cool what slugterra could have been. It gives me such nostalgia for the late 2000s/early 2010s DisneyXD shows like Randy Cunningham, Kick Buttowski, Max Steel. Like all the EdGy boy cartoons that I somehow ended up watching as a little girl 😅

I mean I just looked and season wise and success wise Slugterra stomps them all. I mean which show has its own Roku channel the one and only Slugterra baby! 😂 But anyway I’m glad they made the changes that they did.

[dtmsrpfcringe]

You really are a dumb fuck, aren't you? You repeated exactly what I said, then told me I was wrong for saying what you parroted back to me. Living in your brain must be fucking insufferable.

Your own words were that they did not know each other ten years ago. Incorrect.

They have both said that they have known each other socially (i.e., friends) since 2001. They did not become close until they were in Good Omens. Yes, that is what I said. That's what you agreed to after I corrected your initial false statement. My god, little wonder you think this blog is a good idea when these are your thought processes.

Nothing else you said makes the slightest bit of sense. I can't even decipher the point of that word salad, and I am a teacher. Why would Michael use the names of the characters when he is talking about the show that the characters are in? What? You are reaching so hard that it is comical.

You are a class act making jokes about a congenital defect that kills newborn infants. Is that the kind of thing the mother of a newborn infant who claims to be a nurse would do? We have established that you are lying about both of those things. You are just an awful person. When it comes down to the real point of this blog, you don't care about the greater good of the fandom. You only want attention. You are shouting about a tiny corner of Tumblr that draws no attention to itself. You bring attention to it. You make it loud. Even when it disappears, you keep bringing it back. What's the real point here? You want attention for yourself. You want to be the hero in a war that doesn't exist.

Maybe you don't ship the hairband. Maybe you just have bad taste in music? I don't care. Either way, you have no place calling out anyone when you support those losers. They are the epitome of the scum of society. Actual misogynists. One of them even murdered someone while driving drunk. That is just the tip of the iceberg. But someone no one knows said something mean about Georgia Tennant on Tumblr? Someone suggests that two men who keep talking about having sex and being in love might be in love. Better clutch your pearls over that! Pathetic.

bae that isn’t what you said. You said they’ve been friends for almost 25 years. Do you write things and just fucking forget them? Or can you just not stop lying?

I can’t imagine being a teacher and just constantly being so goddamn wrong, I bet your students can’t stand you.

also saying you don’t have a brain isn’t making fun of a congenital defect babe. I’m neither lying about being a mom or healthcare professional. Most people I talk to pretty regularly here have seen my baby, and it would be pretty hard work to have an entire baby to…fake being a mom??? I’m not going to put my baby’s face on here to prove to someone like you that she’s real, and frankly I think it’s a little strange you wanna see that bad babe. Like? Your obsession with an internet stranger’s newborn (i guess infant now omfg) is kinda creepy.

As for my health certification, you don’t know shit actually. I busted my ass in high school to be licensed because of the people who helped me as a kid. Also I’m not a nurse😉 you are right about that. There’s more to healthcare than your RN and MDs lol. You seem like you’d yell at underpaid healthcare workers in the worst way possible.

you obviously did understand, but didn’t want to lick your wounds and slink into the corner.

btw this group absolutely does draw attention to yourself. I found these people by looking for cute Georgia and Anna stuff and finding hate and misogyny spread about them. As for Motley Crue, I hardly listen to them anymore, if literally ever. I haven’t posted anything about them in over a year and that is why I removed 2000 of my followers on instagram and made it private to have a personal acc. I just never bothered changing the username lol. So try again I guess.

Anyways here’s my daily reminder to you that David and Michael would be disgusted with you. Hope you have the day you deserve!

Keep sending these I think we’re falling in love boo🚨🔵🚨🔵

[kyistell]

May I humbly request hc’s for the gay traumatized cowboy with daddy issues (texas)?👁️👁️

Oooooo yess, Texas was a fun one to think about because I had to think like a southerner slightly, and I live in Jersey lol (granted Jersey gets pretty southern if you go too far but I don't live there)

Texas-

Used to hunt a lot, however with the Table becoming slightly more important in the 2020s he had to slow it down significantly

Has a massive ranch, horses, cattle, chickens, you name it, Texas probably has it

Would actually kill someone (but specifically Cali) if they took his hat, there is no way he is letting Austin be in control for that long

His wires are slightly crossed, hence Austin or literally any of his cities (though honestly the cities being personified depends on the state, Texas has researched this before and it’s not worth asking why, you won’t get an answer)

Guns lol

Will occasionally just cough up oil, it’s not common but it is annoying

He’s not gay, at all, what so ever, he’s just a very straight cowboy livin his life (guess the lie here, hint: he is for sure livin his life and is a cowboy)

He doesn’t hate Oklahomo, he just wishes the absolute best for him and the absolute best is dying

Loves cooking as much as he does hunting, which is a lot, he’ll do it whenever he wants, for basically no reason, it’s a fun hobby for him

Has dinner every other Sunday with Mexico and other Spanish speaking countries, Cali, Arizona, and NM will also join from time to time

He likes history a lot more than people realize, he has to be good at it to say that it’s all fake duh

Hates snow, never wants it ever again, the one time he got snow he doesn’t remember BECAUSE HE BASICALLY DIED MAINE (he’s only slightly dramatic, he didn’t die but it sure did feel like it)

Made Jersey teach him how to make “proper pizza” since he taught him how to make a brisket

He’s tall, like 6’3 tall, he could technically go taller but 6’3 doesn’t make him feel like he’s stretching his skin

If he’s exhausted then he won’t understand a lick of English, he doesn’t get that tired often but when he does it’s turned into a game to see who can get him to bed first (It’s normally Alabama or Oklahomo- I mean homa, Oklahoma)

Went back to high school in the 2000s, an experience he doesn’t know if he regrets or wants to study under a microscope

Has three dogs, they are his babies along with his horses, he fought long and hard to convince Gov to let him have them at the StateHouse even with the no pets rule that like 3 people didn’t follow at the time

Loves Football, obviously, Sunday Football is spent outside with barbeque and the entire south, even if their team isn’t playing

Doesn’t actually hate Cali, he thinks that he’s an idiot and never knows when to shut up but he can admire how smart he actually is even if Texas would never say it out loud, and Austin, Austin was a big reason

[lovemesomesurveys]

Look out of the nearest window. What do you see? Details, please. The side fence, some of my neighbor’s roof, their chimney, and some of the sky. There used to be a big tree outside my window, but it was removed or cautionary reasons.

When you think of the word "posh", what springs to mind? If I recall correctly, it’s like a rich, fancy, snooty British person? Excuse my ignorance, that’s probably completely wrong.

When you have chocolate, do you eat it room temperature? Yeah. Kinda annoying sometimes cause my room can get too hot so when I go to eat my Reese’s, they’re really soft and melty. 

Or are you like me and stick the bar into the fridge first? I have done that, but no I generally just eat them room temp. I may have to do that for my Reese’s though cause they do get really melty and messy. 

What's the most shocking thing that's happened in your part of town? Unfortunately, there’s been a lot of incidents. Our crime rate is bad.

Which brand are your headphones/earbuds? I have a pair of white Beats.

Do you see planes fly over your house at all? Once in awhile. I mostly just hear them. 

Are there any constellations you recognize just by looking at them? I’d recognize the big dipper. 

Which room of your house/apartment do you spend the most time in? Mine. I spend majority of my time in bed. 

Which insect do you find the most beautiful? Uh, NONE.

Did you have crafts/woodwork at school growing up? We had woodwork. It was inside an old school bus, it was cool. 

If so, what was the best assignment you did for it? I made a simple doll house. Didn’t feel simple making, it, though. Also, I can’t believe I don’t have it still. Wtf.

Do you have a friend who likes to tell you everything? I did have friends like that. 

What was the last thing you got very excited about? I don’t recall.  You can go to any city in any country you want. Which city do you go to? I’d need to spend some time really thinking about that one. It couldn’t be right away sadly cause I’m not able to travel or do much at all right now.

Do you like gardening? If so, what do you grow? I don’t do any gardening or have any interest in doing so.

Do you enjoy puzzle games? If so, which one's your favourite? I like word puzzles. 

Is there a substance you avoid at all costs? If so, what is it and why? Uhh, I mean there’s juice (most juices) that I don’t like and opt out of drinking. I wouldn’t want any if offered or drink it voluntarily.

What would you love to live next door to? I’d love to be near the beach. Like if I had a private beach area next door I guess lol. Preferably at my house, too. 

What gives you nostalgia? Like everything? My memories and anything associated with my life or of the 90s/2000s. I’m just a sad bitch who’s stuck in the 90s. 

What's the best thing about fall? The weather, smells, foods, coziness, and holidays.

What's the worst thing about fall? I love fall. 

Do you get cold easily? Or are you constantly hot? Ugh, I swear I just feel constantly hot and it really sucks. 

When you think of a classy drink, what comes to mind first? Like a martini or something. 

Do you prefer eating out or cooking your own meals? I do a lot of takeout.  

Which language do you think is the most complicated to learn? They all can be. Learning a language is hard.

Is there a place that you might call your second home? No.

How do you imagine your later life to look like? I don’t want to try and imagine that. That makes me scared. 

What is a job you would never in a million years want to do? >> like, most of them... <<< Ha, for real though. I like just don’t want to work...

Is there a piece of jewelry that you feel naked without? No.

Do you ever "go commando"? No. I don’t find that comfortable. 

Do you ever try to make words out of number sequences you see? Uhh I mean we used to do that thing on the calculator as kids where like 8008 looked like “BOOB” upside down or  1134 being hell. Stupid stuff like that if that counts. 

What's the sweetest thing someone's done for you? My loved ones have done countless sweet things for me.

Which wild animals are a common sight in your area? Birds.

What's the weirdest building in your city? I don’t know.

How do you keep in touch with friends usually? I don’t have friends.

Do you get a lot of visitors? No. And that’s perfectly fine with me.

Do you recognize friends'/family's vehicles by sound? My dad’s because whenever he comes home he has to rev up his engine and be loud.

Which Disney villain is your favourite? For some reason I thought of that ugly lady from The Rescuers who’s super mean to Penny. I always think of that part where she peels her eyelashes off and it makes me laugh for some reason. Oh, Madame Medusa is her name how could I forget. 

On a regular day, what do you usually do at 3 o'clock in the afternoon? During the week that’s about when I’m eating lunch and either on TikTok or watching YouTube. 

What's something new you've just recently learned? I’m blanking at the moment.

Which possession would you not want to inherit from a relative? Like being next in line to some position or the one to take over the family business. Thankfully, I don’t have either of those to worry about. 

What is something you would never dare to do in public? >> most things that would call mass attention to me. <<< Yeah. Not just like I wouldn’t go outside completely naked, but also even lesser on the embarrassing scale stuff, too. I just want to go about my business ya know, don’t mind me. 

Would you/ did you have a hen night/bachelorette party? I’ve never been engaged. I don’t plan on ever getting married, but if I did I’d want to do something. Nothing too crazy, though. 

Has anyone taken you on holiday somewhere? If so, where? Ive been on several vacations with my family.

Have you taken somebody on holiday? If so, where did you taken them? No.

Who do you see as an iconic star? Alexander Skarsgard. 

Have you ever been to a vineyard? Yes.

Are there any swans around where you live? Yes.

Does anyone in your inner circle struggle with addiction? I have some extended family members who do. 

Has anyone told you lately that you have a nice smile? No, definitely not recently. I’m really, really self-conscious. 

How did you spend your last birthday? I was in the hospital, so I didn’t do much at all. I couldn’t even eat or drink anything that time, so I couldn’t have a special treat at least. However, my family is amazing and tried to make it special for me as best they could. My mom and brother brought me huge balloons, a party hat, and really nice cards. My dad sang me happy birthday and visited with me. I really was hoping I’d be able to do something for my birthday this year, but I don’t see that happening either...

[chrisevansluv]

I guess people like Alba love to love on The Bell Jar because it has been romanticized in 90s pop culture, similar to her obsession with Natalie Portman/The Professional and Johnny Depp. This girl is shallow as hell. Everything she says is rehearsed and fake. We shouldn't take her seriously. And neither should we fight amongst ourselves over her. // I find that all of these things she likes are so outdated. Like she read some article about cool girls in the 90s and just molded herself to that and didn’t evolve. And now she’s molding herself to Chris. It’s strange because I was a young girl in the 90s trying to be cool and my views of a lot of those things has changed so drastically and most women younger than me started out where I am now when they were teens so the idea that she isn’t, for example, disturbed by and even emulating The Professional is almost concerning to me. I think Chris’ own feminism (lol) and views are actually quite stuck in the 90s so maybe it’s a good match. I have a theory that he is now at 41 who he should’ve been or wishes he was in his 20s so it’s almost like he found a young girl who acts like every art school girl I met in college in the year 2000 (this is exactly how I see her and she keeps doubling down on this with every fact I learn. I mean the Bell Jar come on?!) and he is trying to do a redo. Sad for him because he is actually 41 so that game will catch up to him and he looks pathetic going through a midlife crisis and she looks like a little girl playing a role.

.

[sophism84]

You know we all arrive here on this planet without a guide book and we spend our lives trying to find out why we are here. And after this very long night of mine, I think I have figured my reason why I’m here. So like when I died, I was arguing w someone who literally was like you have to go back. And I was before then and just swelled up and showed them, look this is what I’m living through, I don’t want this anymore don’t make me go back. And they were like let me show you. But the sky was grey that day. The sun was not shining. They said the sun would shine tomorrow when I woke up. I said I was too sad, I couldn’t do it. It didn’t matter they waited for me to say yea. So I woke up to a nurse, an intubation tube and strapped to a bed. I don’t know how to describe those first five minutes other than why the fuck am I strapped down? Lol I can’t breathe lol

Anyway, I’ve met some wild people on the internet. People who are international, I would never speak to them in my normal life. We don’t run in the same circles. But these conversations apparently carry influence. To the point where I’ve heard my words in rhymes set to music, playing through my ear pod at work. And I’m like damn I like this song, then as the week goes on you remember. As if you’re brain is just saying “lol you like this because” this most recent memory escapade where it just HAD to remind me I have talked to this person lol made my memory of something that happened over ten years ago possibly so real.

I was talking to this person, who I now know who they are cause, anyway we were talking about our childhood, and I was like “no sorry I never grew up w that stuff my school was poor” and lord was it. We had teachers who hit us for discipline, my fifth grade teacher would crank the ac down to 55 if that possible, and yell at us that we were retarded and that he bets ours moms still wipe our butts, I remember my tummy grumbling and being so tired hungry and cold I just wanted to die lol and heck yes I reported him. Lol I just got moved classrooms where he walked me inbetween rooms where he put his hand on the small of my back pushed me into the new room and told his friend the new teacher I needed a teacher who “talked nicer” lol cause IM THE PROBLEM lol okay!

Anyway someone close to me in 2000 did something illegal legally lol which is funny that saved my life. I never knew they like actually loved me until they dd this and everything happened and now that I look back the industry they worked in and the knowledge they had, they def stuck their neck out. Anyway this person was in need. For something that was entirely out off my control. And I couldn’t do a thing. But I answered a couple more questions for this person on the internet. I don’t remember if I asked straight out. But this person on the internet helped out ny person. And how I found out was I was w my person and they were explaining what was going on now, and they said the thing that made it all possible. And let me tell you it didnt fully hit me in that moment. But I did feel like I had a secret I could never tell a soul, cause it might go away lol but damn did it throw my mind into wtf that’s not real like absolutely no way haha that’s insane. Lol but the craziest thing. My person and I are not close anymore. And they will never know that the reason they’re good now, is cause I talked w someone on the internet. But how do you repay someone for possibly saving your life or I guess literally. They don’t need to know how it happened to them and if they ever did there would be so many questions I couldn’t answer and they may never believe me cause it’s so crazy how could it be?

This is also the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. Out of any conversations I’ve had w so many people. I’ve heard more songs I would like to admit after my convos. Anyway. I guess that’s why I’m here? To talk to people and just see them live out their lives. And no one will know but me. Lol cause this is why I’m here. Not to be an asshole, but I’m tired. I don’t really wanna not be here anymore lol this shit not fun anymore.

On an unrelated note. I hate that we exist at the same time. I can’t tell you the depths of sadness when I realized everything and came to the conclusion. The one I have needed to arrive at. I will never admit it to your face. But I am so hurt and angry at god that we exist in the same time. Did you have to show up? Why would god do this to me?

The mostest best lovely thing is you might read this and you will never know it’s about you. And that makes me feel better.

[tamerahardy]

Adolescence / Curiosity / Moving Homes All the Time

You know the phrase “cause and effect “…how one thing can cause a reaction or for something else to happen! That’s what growing up felt like. I was very curious, a good person just also very curious…

My first kissing experience had been a girl. She was family to my next door neighbors who we had a good relationship with and she was also one of my close friends I met in the neighborhood from playing outside. Making friends back in the day was so easy all you had to was go outside and see what’s out there….funny I’m saying that as an adult because I’m actually scared to leave the house now and do that EXACT thing I use to do when I was younger.

Anywho I would go for er next door for the Halloween parties and sleep overs and we just randomly made out one night just two curious girls wanting to know. Wanting to know why it felt so good and what the fuck was “tongue kissing” lol.

Eventually my mom lost her first house in Riverdale and we moved to chamblee Tucker work was booming out there for bill collectors (my mom was a bill collector) and at the peak of her work. I finished my school year at Church st elementary and later went to chamblee Tucker middle with a different crowd of people. Normally when you go to an elementary school you make all of your friends there and you transfer over to the connecting middle school in that district. I was robbed of that experience, anyone I knew from Church St (the southside) became a distant memory and experience and I later moved on to meet new people.

Chamblee Tucker Middle 2005-2006 this was my first taste of “interracial crowds” I left the south side which was mainly black people and now I’m surrounded by mainly white people and Mexicans A NEW CROWD. Mind you this is early on in the 2000s so acknowledging the fact that their are different races was common it wasn’t a “all lives matter” type of thing it was more of clique up with “your group” type of thing and it was very out in the open. This is my first taste of middle school…I’m seeing all types of stuff overwhelming shit. Girls wearing makeup and skirts. All of these different energies and personalities. Girl groups. Popular people. Extracurricular activities. Detention. All of these things elementary school doesn’t necessarily prepare you for. My sixth grade year wasn’t too bad though. I still made new friends in my neighborhood. I had the biggest crush on this one guy who barely (you’ll begin to see a pattern with this so pay attention to my words) … but yea he lived in my apartment complex and went to my school he was an “8th grader and I was in 6th grade” lol his name was Demetrius. Demetrius Hepburn, I still remember his name like it was yesterday. You’ll be surprised at all the things you remember when you make these things and people the HIGHLIGHT of your life. He knew I was crushing on him but I don’t think he really liked me. I’m not sure why maybe I was too young and it was like having a toy (me) to play with because you knew I was interested and crushing real bad.

Outside of school most of my friends came from the apartment complex I lived in I was good at attracting personalities to me without having to do much. We played together and experienced each other as kids curious curious kids. I became best friends with Demetrius sister Deandre. We got a bit close…I’m not sure what it was but popular girls always gravitated towards me. It was like being able to unwind from being popular I guess. Me and her had a friendship and she was aware I liked her brother but I don’t think it was much she could do since he wasn’t interested in me…or at least made it appear. I was in my ugly duckling phase where I didn’t know shit about “parties” or “giving dances” but the girls I was around and Deandre did. Demetrius was more interested in that girls who were a bit more older and then there was me not very interesting at all I suppose…

As the days passed Demetrius and Deandre they ended up moving, some of the popular girls in the neighborhood moved as well and things changed a bit people weren’t really coming outside anymore. Energy shifted and as the “veterans” people were there a while moved on “my crowd” moved in. It got me thinking about this white boy name max who I would flirt with he was in my cooking class and we would flirt a lot lol. Me and Demetrius never did anything tho…I mean he came over to my crib one night when no one but my Gemini brother was there (I didn’t even know he was there in his room but he obviously didn’t give a fuck lol) but yea he wanted to hook up but we never did. lol that was the highlight of my life the guy I’m crushing on wanting to BE WITH ME am I about to lose my virginity? He’s actually giving me some ATTENTION WOAH! But it never happened lol. It didn’t feel right and I told him to leave because one of my brothers might walk in on us and he left.

Now looking back I remember fantasizing DAY AND NIGHT about this guy. Wanting to be so beautiful and perfect for him. Filling my shopping cart full of apple bottom jeans and baby phat because I wanted to be so fly at the bus stop for him, mind you my mom never bought these clothes at all so the way that shit sat in my shopping cart it sat in my imagination as well.

But yes they all moved and everything I felt I guess it just went away as life continued to happen. My aunt got a divorce and moved in with us. We later got robbed somebody broke into our apartment stole our XBOX 360s, my brothers jewelry, our TVS… I remember ealk my home from school and seeing my brother chase after a car it was like some movie type shit I get home our door is kicked in and our apartment a WRECK! Everybody in the complex saw too. My brother never caught him I wasn’t aware of what was going on or why… but later on my mom and my brother set our neighbors car on fire and my brother was sent to jail for it. We moved to a different apartment and I finished my year at chamblee. All of the people I met became a memory again. My old neighbors who car got set on fire they hated me when they saw me at school. They somehow looped me into what my mom and brother did and they HATED me. They picked on me and we were no longer friends anymore even though I didn’t do shit. Going to school became a nightmare. I ended making new friends in the new apartment complex I was in and even met someone who would become my boyfriend. He was Hispanic. Mind you it was mainly Hispanics and white people in that area. I think that’s why the grew to be envious of Hispanic and white women they were gorgeous and they wore short skirts and made themselves pretty with makeup mind you this was all a big deal in middle school and it made you appear more “cunt”… anywho I began friendship with this Hispanic guy I forgot his name I remember his face tho…me and him began dating after while but it was short lived. I ended up going to his apartment to see him and the look on his mom’s face when she saw me. She looked disgusted to see me and he looked scared to say anything back all he could was close the door. I could hear her yelling in Spanish through the door she wasn’t very happy at all. He opened the door and we walked away from that hostile environment. We later broke up because of it and he ended up dating someone of his race. I was very hurt and disappointed because I didn’t fully understand racism or interracial dating and different cultures. I didn’t care or think much of it but that experience opened my eyes to it. I grew very envious of Hispanic women. How they dressed, their hair, their eyebrows, that Salma Hayek vibe they had towards them, I grew even more envious of white women because of their fair skin they could fit in those crowds and be accepted, back then being emo or something like Avril Lavign made you cool and I hated that shit because I looked gross in skirts, my legs were fat and so was I. This was the year I paid more attention to how I looked, I was always self conscious about myself and my thighs being big but this brought it out more.

That summer my mom put me and my little brother into cheering and football, I use to cheer at Gresham when I was 5 so that’s something she always saw for me. To be apart of something why not start with gymnastics and cheer. Anywho I had been knew so nobody knew me (seems to be a thing) lol the girls were cool at first until the guys on the football team saw me and wanted to talk to me. This one particular guy they call “DEUCE” he was popular they all went to the same middle school not chamblee where I went but somewhere in that district. Anywho he liked me and wanted to get to know me and one of the girls on the team found out and from them she treated me like shit! The girls on the team picked on me, before our competition we all stayed in a hotel together and guess who became the target? Yep me. Nobody wanted to sit by me in the car on the way there and no one wanted to be around me in the hotel. I slept on the floor and the other bitches were in the bed. Thank god I didn’t fall asleep first either they would’ve played a prank on me and put something on my face while I slept. All I could hear was in the background “is she sleep…no she’s awake”.. a very uncomfortable night before our championship.

The school was year over, cheerleading during the summer had ended, my aunty had moved out and found her a place and we had moved again to the east side and yet again everything I experienced in Chamblee had all become a distant memory.

McNair middleeeee circa 2007-2008 boy was that different crowd unlike the new generation things were a bit more RAW and blunt back then. Mind you I was back on the east side so there wasn’t much diversity it was only black people and from being around a diverse my accent was a little “white washed” I was the “proper new girl” so everybody wanted to know who I was and what I was about…mind you everybody knew each other from elementary school so that made me stand out ALOT because nobody knew me and it also made me a target.

In McNair middle they segregated the halls “all girls” , “co ed” , and “all boys” … they had the hall divided up now that tells you ALOT about a school why divide us up like lab rats lol? Because that school was hood as fuck! They needed to divide everybody up accordingly to avoid disaster lol. My 7th grade year I was sent to all girls hall. It was literally only ALL girls there. You know that scene of Simba’s mom walking past all them hyena’s with her head tilted up mmmmm yea that was me except I was actually scared but I had to put my face on and just act like no one was there staring at me… All the girls including the popular girls would ask me who I was..where I come from and examine me and fill me out like I’m applying for a job or some shit. Walking through the halls transitioning through classes you would see people linking in with there familiar groups cracking jokes before class yelling in the hallways asserting their dominance that they were popular or YOU KNOW THEM, I would see boys from the all boys hall sneaking peaks on the all girls hallway trying to see they boo or just being messy curious boys, or they would just link up in gym since ALL halls were connected through gym class or PE. You know just like the movies where the hallways are a jungle you see the populars with the populars, boyfriend and girlfriends holdings hands or flirting type shit.

Outside of school I made new friends AGAIN at the new apartment complex we lived in. My grandma also stayed in that complex but at least we were close to her. This crowd was different tho these the type of complex where you see grown ass men staring at 12 year olds type shit. This where true adolescence and life experiences come to play because on the east side it’s very RAW either you about it or you not. It was like every time I moved ppl were advancing the girls were fast very fast and they were willing to do things with guys and then there’s me just observing from the sidelines seeing it all. I mean yea when I would go out and play and make friends older men looked at me and wanted to holler at me and the attention made me feel good I was 12-13 and not popular at all so anything was EVERYTHING to me even a little stare where they don’t take they eyes off you.

I made friends pretty easy in my complex “thornsberry apartments” this was my time to get acquainted so I didn’t feel left out anymore. Eveything was going well I was making friends I didn’t have a bad reputation or anything, UNTIL …. I began dating a guy that stayed in my complex lol (do you see the pattern …you still with me?)

His name was Simeon. Boy oh boy and he was very active lol. Unlike the boys I crushed on at my previous apartments he was interested in me OUTSIDE of school lol and very public with it. Me and him didn’t really talk in my school, he was in the 8th grade popular and I was 7th newbie. I was too young in eyes and being around me at school made his ego look bad but back at home he was ALL over me. Wr never fucked or anything but baby we was giving that energy like WE WAS and very openly in public. Lmaooo not this was my first boo that brought the freak out crazy ass Atlanta niggas. Anywho one day we was walking from the bus stop and he picked me up and it look really sexual you know when you jump on top of your boo while he grabbing your love handles mid air ….one of the girls that acted like she was my friend but really wasn’t saw it and It became kind of weird, other girls she was connected to she told them and they labeled me a SLUT.

The next day I went to school she was talking shit about me she wasn’t my friend anymore and she started telling people on the all girls hall. I didn’t really care much because what the fuck?? It became an issue because none of these girls really fucked with me they were just filling me out. Girls began to talk shit about me real bad calling me a hoe. Talking shit about how I dressed how I wear the same clothes every week, and then it led to the …….bullying.

[lucysweatslove]

I really don’t mean to do so many readmores but trying to be respectful/considerate when something could be significantly triggering, especially if I’m talking about triggering topics in a “negative” view of myself. Talk about weight, calories, exercise, etc. Touches on fatphobia and how fat people are judged.

So a couple weeks ago, right before my 29th birthday, I decided I wanted to try to just get more of my life in routine and attempt to establish some better habits (eg a bedtime routine, keeping skincare up, going back to the gym regularly, cooking more meals instead of snacking on pre-packaged foods, etc). I had 14 weeks until the start of school so it just felt like a good time to start working on these things. Part of this is also that I want to be able to feel good about myself in business casual clothing around other people, since I’m going to be around a lot of people and need to wear business casual a lot of times.

I also thought I might just see if I lose weight during this time since I was focusing so much on “healthier habits” and you know, curious. Even if I “only” lost a few lbs or whatever, I guess I just wanted to know? Also my sister has kept talking about her weight loss despite me saying I’m uninterested (she says she has lost like 25 lbs, and was barely in the “obese” weight category btw, eating like 2000 calories- I know, numbers talk, but this is why it’s under a readmore). So I was just thinking like, i might not lose weight like her since I’m me, but maybe I could a little bit too? I am actually in the “obese” category, I store my fat in the dreaded mid-section so like, and I’m not muscular, so while we all know BMI is shit, even my body fat percent IS considered obese. (FWIW, I’m a small fat I guess).

We all know, I’m recovered from atypical ana, so primarily weight loss focused efforts are usually not safe for me as I can get super restrictive again and in that mindset. So anyway weight loss has nothing to do directly with my goals for the next 14 weeks, but I think I had it in my head that since I came off of like several months of essentially existing on the frozen chicken melts from costco and skittles and other candy from winco, healthy habits would likely lead to some reduction, yeah?

I initially didn’t weigh myself but did on my birthday. After that, I decided to only weigh myself on Mondays (new week starts). Anyway I’m not expecting huge results or anything, but since my birthday I have basically stayed the same, actually going up a little bit.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t really care, but… I also didn’t lose any weight last week so I decided to kinda see if my eating habits were actually conducive to weight loss. For my birthday, I celebrated two days, and I had gone out to lunch one day and to a movie and dinner the other day, so I just assumed like, water weight, took in more calories those days, etc, not a big deal. But I guess I had challenged myself for last week to just really do my best to stick with it without being too hard on myself. I went back to weighing my food to track it during the week (less rigidly so, I suppose, since its not like I’m upset if I can’t finish a meal, or if my husband takes a blueberry off my plate, etc). For the five weekdays, I averaged 1450 calories in (uncertain how that ended up such a nice round number lol) and, according to my watch, 2710 calories out. I don’t always trust the watch because it logs my weight lifting through my app which always says I burn more calories than I think I really do (if I was lifting closer to my max and/or doing less resting, maybe, but I’m resting like 75% of the session). So I kinda suspect actual burn to be like 2400-2500.

I know over the weekend I eat a little more, less protein, more “eating out,” as I refuse to sacrifice enjoyment with my husband. Like I won’t refuse to go get a Mac and cheese bowl with him just because I can’t track it. Saturday, I’m not really sure. He brought home lunch and I ended up eating several tortilla chips, barely had any ice cream he brought home because our favorite is discontinued so he bought another brand that I didn’t like, and I had a few handfuls of cashews but like didn’t actually eat a MEAL. Yesterday while I didn’t track, we went out for Mac and cheese bowls for lunch, and I ate half of mine then and half for dinner. I also did eat grapes, veggies with a Greek yogurt dip I made, and a smallish bagel (package says 230 calories) at bedtime because I hadn’t had a lot of fruits and veg especially that day and wanted more.

I just can’t see where literally 5k calories could come from over my weekend to offset my week. Which makes me wonder if my thyroid is doing okay. Like over the last couple of weeks I expected to see some decline in weight, even just a lb or two. I keep seeing people thinner than me lose even more weight and it’s… yeah it’s discouraging, not because of the weight loss exactly, but more because it makes me really curious WHY my body seems to suck.

The thing is, it’s so hard for a fat person to be taken seriously when they are concerned about their thyroid. “If you aren’t losing weight, you aren’t doing it right.” We are told we can’t REALLY be tracking correctly- clearly we are eating more than we think, we aren’t tracking every bite, we NEED to be obsessive and THEN we will see results and if you don’t see results, you aren’t obsessive enough. I’ve had a fucking eating disorder; I know how to be “obsessive enough.” I don’t want to be tracking calories like this at all, but I especially don’t want to have to spend like a month avoiding all fun foods and declining things I enjoy with people I enjoy JUST to get good enough data for people to take me seriously when I say I’m concerned for my thyroid health?

Ofc there may be other reasons that I just can’t think of. I don’t think it’s GI tract stuff given how my bathroom habits have been. I guess maybe it could be that, in response to going to the gym again, my body is storing more glycogen, and I’m giving it appropriate carbs so it’s doing do. I don’t feel particularly sore or water-retention-y so I don’t really think it’s that. I can’t remember when I’m actually supposed to take my ring out for a “period.” The “right” thing to do here is just keep doing what I’m doing for another couple of weeks, let a month go before I get really worried.

Really what it all boils down to: how other people perceive me. I don’t really care what I look like to myself. I’m perfectly content to just be in my pajamas at home all the time and eat how I want to eat and what fuels me best etc. But after years of rejection and being teased for how I look, and now starting a new professional path in which I will 10000% be judged by how I look, I have to think about how I look to others and I expect “the worst” because that’s the data I have. Telling me to shift my thinking and expect people won’t care or whatever doesn’t honor my actual experience. Yes there are people who don’t care and will be kind no matter what, and yes there will always be people who judge you harshly no matter what too, but my actual loved experience and the actual data I have says that more people judge me harsher on my body’s appearance than they do with straight-sized individuals, and more people judge me harshly for traits related to my neurodivergence/ autism than they do for neurotypicals.

And ofc when people like me try tl share why it might be harder for us to fit into the box of “socially acceptable enough to not be so harshly judged,” we are, again, judged for THAT.

Idk I have other thoughts but I’m just disappointed with what I can’t do lately. And it’s depressing and nobody wants to really listen to depressing shit so this is my little outlet of frustration.

[purplesurveys]

1612

How much did your senior prom dress cost you? We had prom in junior year and if I remember correctly it only cost somewhere between ₱2000-₱3000; I can’t recall the exact price. I didn’t care for prom and even just brought my cousin to it, so I didn’t see the point in shelling out so much for a dress that I was only going to wear once. 

What dreams have stuck with you since childhood? There was one where I found myself at the balcony of the hotel we used to frequent and I suddenly saw this cradle with an abandoned baby in it. By instinct I went to the cradle and carried the baby who for some reason felt oddly...mine? Like there was definitely a connection of some sort the moment I put them in my arms. That’s all I remember from the dream.

Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? Yeah, I have.

Did you ever take your dog to school? I brought Kimi once during college because I included him in my grad shoot.

If you had had a baby in high school, what would you have named him or her? I was dead set on April Kathleen in high school (April after AJ Lee, Kathleen after Audrey Hepburn). Tbh it would still hold up today as I continue to love both girls and the name objectively isn’t bad either.

If you had a baby now, what would you name him or her? I’m into unisex names for a girl these days, so I’ve been loving choices like Elliott, Stevie, Frankie, Arden. For some reason I remain traditional when it comes to boy’s names and still prefer names like Seth, Noah, Lucas, etc.

Have you ever seen someone throw up on a plane? Nah, I’ve only ever seen that happen in that one Mr. Bean episode lol. I’ve heard people puking at a cruise ship though.

Do you get motion sickness? Yep. It’s at its worst during car rides.

Has God ever healed you of anything? If so, what? No, I have a very bitter relationship with religion.

What is the most boring church you have ever attended? Every single church service I have attended since I was 4.

What is the most lively church you have ever attended? I don’t really go anywhere else other than Sunday masses.

Do you find church fun or boring? Boring and a tad bit condescending at times.

What do you hate the most about summer? The fucking weather. Which part of your body is the most muscular? I don’t exercise lol but if I had to cite something, probably my arms. I do a lot of heavy lifting for work.

Did you ever take Latin in school? Not Latin but I remember a very brief period when my school attempted to make French classes a thing (the founder was French). It lasted all of like three weeks when I was in Grade 1 and then I never heard anything of it again.

Which major holiday is closest to your birthday? Usually Easter Sunday.

What is your favorite Japanese name? Keiko or Naoko, for a girl.

Have you ever ran a cash register? Nope, only toy ones lol.

Did you collect Bratz dolls when you were younger? I was never into dolls but I did like Bratz, and had a lot of non-doll Bratz stuff. My preschool lunchbox was Bratz, I had a backpack too, and a bunch of tops that had the girls in it hahaha. The giveaways at my 7th birthday party were also predominantly Bratz.

Do you think your mom is attractive? She is and also looks far younger than her current age (51).

What was the last thing that disappointed you? When I went down after work hoping to still catch some of the nachos my dad made earlier in the afternoon, only to learn that everyone had finished it off.

Do you like the feeling in your stomach on a big drop on a roller coaster? I hate it more than ANYTHING in the world, so I never get on rides.

Skeletons or scarecrows? Um, skeletons I guess. 

Do you own pumpkin earrings? Nope.

What computer game did you used to play all the time? I never was a big PC gamer.

When was the last time you read a book? Last weekend I read a chapter of Around the World in Eighty Days, which was a gift from Kat.

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) It’s so hard to say. Deciding parenthood stuff when you aren’t is so much easier said than done. The way I’d answer now is that I guess I would, but given that they would be minors I wouldn’t hesitate to be a bit of a helicopter parent until they turn 18 (Asian mom instinct, soz). They wouldn’t be allowed to be alone in a bedroom, they’d have a strict curfew, only hang out where I can see you, things like that.

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? Hmm, can’t remember, I don’t typically make reservations. Probably at Sundays with my parents nearly a year ago?

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? Counting out Viber which I use for work and by default gets the most notifs in a day, I’d go with Messenger.

What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? Learning how to ride a bike.

Do you watch political shows? The Crown has to count, right? Haven’t continued it in ages, though.

Do you play any fantasy/roleplaying games? What? No, not into that.

Do you like salami? Eh not really, I’m not into that kind of meat so much. Cold cuts is what you call them I think? Not super prevalent in our culture and I’m not a fan in general.

When was the last time you ate meat? Last night; pork belly.

What was the last hot drink you drank? Coffee.

Have your parents met your boyfriend/exes? They’ve met an ex but they didn’t know we were dating. She was always the “best friend.”

How about your boyfriend’s parents? Met them? I don’t have a boyfriend.

Do you know how to say I love you in at least 4 languages? Mahal kita, te amo, saranghae, je t’aime.

Do you find the sound of a cat’s purr relaxing? Depends. Most of the time I tense up.

Do you know your mum’s first pet’s name? Good question, but I cannot for the life of me remember it right now. I know the name was drawn from the dog’s black color though; it was like Charcoal or something like that.

Would you ever want to be famous? If so, for what? I mean I think it’d be kinda cool to at least be the best friend of someone famous LOL but I’d never want to be famous on my own. Too much pressure and and too many eyes on you, and I know I’d buckle almost immediately.

Would you ever get a heart tattoo or your back? Naw.

What fruit can’t you stand? Bananas.

Do you know anyone autistic? Not personally. It’s always a friend’s sibling, a work contact’s son, a family friend’s son, etc.

How about someone bipolar? Yes. What do you consider private to you? I’m such an open book that I’m finding it hard to answer this, haha. I share everything at some point.

Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: Dev.

Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: I don’t like being too nice sometimes because it usually ends up putting me in a difficult situation. But I can’t help it and most of the time I will go out of my usual damn route to drive someone home hahaha.

Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: I have weaknesses in my line of work, but I enjoy the general gist of what I do if that counts.

Name somebody who has tried to help you and ended up hurting you: My mom will sometimes say things she thinks is advice but is actually pretty insensitive.

Name a date that has a lot of significance to you: June 13th.

Name something in your life that was a blessing in disguise: I don’t believe in blessings.

Name something that you’ve done that would be considered rebellious: I uhhhh did some weed while out of town, away from my family.

Name something you wish you had enough money to do: Traveling whenever I feel like it.

[4dtk]

hello, i’m the anon that sent in the best friends dad request, i really like the idea of renjun almost catching you. but i really have no preferences, so please go ahead and write whatever you want, because i believe you will turn it into a masterpiece

best friend's dad (pt.3)

pt.1 pt.2

“more “best friends dad” but write it however you like. thank you and congrats for 2000!!!” thank you for the 2k wish! also AAAHHH anon i wanted to do work meeting so bad, but i used rather the almost-catching-you set-up, which made me melt into mush so if y’all want another part (regarding the work meeting) i’ll see what i can do lol

warnings: dilf!jaehyun, dom!jaehyun, bit of daddy kink, no foreplay lol except for one finger, sort of somnophilia (reader wakes up pretty early into it), doggy, spooning sex, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism

word count: 1.8k

N**SFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

“knock knock, earth to (y/n), what’s up with you today?” renjun frowns at the airport, snapping periodically at your face since you were almost always caught in a daze. this time seems to be worse, seeing as you never stopped spacing out even after welcoming him at the arrival gates.

“ahh… it’s fine. was just stressed about the approaching exams i guess,” renjun didn’t look convinced, rather more motivated that he takes the chance to invite you to a study session among many others. it was normal for you, but now having fucked his dad twice? you were on edge. the other suggests grabbing something to eat before you can think, though, complimenting the food he missed here and how it couldn’t compare to airplane food.

if jaehyun was any affected by your presence in the third week where renjun’s finally returned, he doesn’t show it one bit, greeting the both of you with a quiet wave while his eyes stay rooted to the meeting he was on. to the side, he writes down the notes that his boss was giving him, nodding along to the details. renjun just beckoned you over with a wave of his hand, glancing longingly at the older man before disappearing into his room.

coaching your friend on everything he’s missed out on was easy, considering you were the one who got accepted halfway into a school year, but even renjun couldn’t get behind your explanation the went in loops, clearly distracted from something bigger than just your exams. “hey, you sure you’re good? i can just ask someone to catch up with me, ya know?”

you pout teasingly, “already giving me up? didn’t know you were that kind of man.”

renjun only rolls his eyes, shoving you before gathering up his papers that had your incoherent scribbles on it. “c’mon, use my bed to sleep. i’ll go get something light to eat and then i’ll sleep with you.” despite knowing what renjun meant, you still pull a face at the phrase, prompting another violent shove from the male before letting out a small thanks escape, already feeling tired from the early airport pick-up that you lose yourself to slumber easily.

jaehyun’s surprised to hear that his son’s room is extremely quiet after a kitchen raid from said boy, ending the call with a heavy sigh and a glance toward the paper filled with messy notes of the important meeting. softly walking up the stairs, he lets out a soft smile when he sees the both of you napping on the bed, an inch from the other.

it reminds him of the time when you were kids, so young where renjun was unsure of whether his dad was okay, where his dad was slowly healing from the infidelity of his old girlfriend. with the help of you who’d befriended renjun, that friendship managed to stay on even to university.

an unwanted memory cuts through his thoughts, suddenly recalling the dangerous, risky escapades with him. your perfect mouth wrapped around him, your lips whining out his name like a mantra. he soon realises he’s not the only one, seeing as you’re wiggling gently in the bed. with one move of your leg, your dress rides up your thigh, displaying your clothed pussy lips for him like it’s a free show.

fuck. should he be really doing this?

jaehyun wastes no time to walk over to your side of the bed, trailing a hesitant finger over your folds that’s already made a damp spot on your panties. it’s like he’s doing exactly like he is in your ‘dream’, letting out quiet moans at the contact. it only spurs him on, so much so that you don’t notice you’re rousing from your sleep.

“mmhm, mr. jung?” you’re going to be safe, just in case.

jaehyun hums, pleased from your conscious state, not bothering to even spare his son a gaze. “not my name, baby. tell me, what were you dreaming about?” you give one last glance to renjun, who’s always in deep sleep before you let out a small mewl at the teasing tone he had.

“n’thing, daddy.” the other coos, prodding at your hole through your underwear that you sensitively jolt and gasp at the feeling before slipping the fabric to the side.

“are you sure?” with your slick, he easily slips a finger in, hand flying up to contain your moans that’s managed to escape. panicking, you look toward renjun, only to find him still sleeping peacefully as the other starts to move his finger.

“o-oh… jaehyun…” you cry out softly, head buried into the pillow to hide your lewd face where jaehyun enjoys your dilemma, laughing even, as your hips push back shamelessly onto him but your sounds are nowhere to be heard. the stimulation stops for a while, leaving you to clench around nothing while your ears perk up at the rustling coming from behind you.

your mouth drops open when he eases his cock inside in a silent gasp, not even sure when he’s taken it out as your head whips back to face him. now you’re really alarmed, anxiety bubbling in your stomach that churns uncomfortably due to his length that’s currently in you. you can’t deny how it feels the same as always, dragging along your walls that you can feel every vein on his fat cock.

“your pussy’s just right for me, sweetheart, fuck,” jaehyun grunts, a hand on your thigh to ground him as he starts his painfully slow thrusts, causing your body to rock back and forth on his son’s sheets and biting your finger to the point of bleeding to contain your whimpers. even though that, it strangely turns you on, giving you a thrill similar to the first time he’s fingered you while renjun sleeps beside you on the sofa.

“g-go faster, please,” you admit to yourself, losing yourself to pleasure that you can’t even think of facing renjun until you get your high. “wan’ your cock deeper, too.”

jaehyun coos, running the back of his hand down your cheek lovingly until he decides to get into bed with you, pulling renjun’s duvet over the two of you so he’d be hidden. this position allows him to get deeper, focused on the way that his shaft goes in and out of you below him. “do you want us to get caught, baby? better shut it if you- oh.”

he grins, “you think i can’t feel you squeezing me? ya excited to get caught, is that it?” you’re not even sure what comes out of your mouth when you answer, brain turned to mush and faintly making out how your juices coat his cock. his pace’s increased by now, pelvis meeting your ass more frequently as he thrusts into you, gradually and surely losing himself to your cunt.

with a sneaky hand over your body, he caresses your nipples over your dress, pulling both it and your bra down to gain better access. he switches between rolling your bud in between his fingers and kneading them, eager to feel you close to him. until-

“ugh, what time is it?”

with a shaky hand, you pat jaehyun to stop for a bit, swallowing when renjun squints his eyes at the bright light above him. barely awake, but he’s able to make out your face.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” renjun yawns, turning over to check the time on his phone before sighing, “you look all flustered. are you sick?” you shake your head quickly just as a whimper comes out, panic settling in your bones at how jaehyun moves in and out of you from behind you. “you sure? i can… go get some Advil if you want-”

oh my god, oh my god, it feels so fucking good, and yet you have to remain neutral. the need to cry out his father’s name is so tempting that you can feel it bubbling up from your throat.

“no! uhm- it’s fine, renjun,” you offer a half-smile, stalling your breathing because renjun could be observant at times. it was just god’s will that the man was undeniably clueless only when he wakes up, sometimes even dropping right back to sleep. he does that, but not before shooting you a worried expression. your half-smile morphs into pleasure once again as the other closes his eyes, turning around right after to get into a more comfortable position.

jaehyun laughs into your neck, “close call, hm?”

“hah… ah-” you don’t have it in you to scold him when his pace goes back to what once was, fucking his cock into you with the speed of an animal. with renjun now turned the other way, jaehyun’s a bit more ambitious, brushing off the duvet with a swift hand and standing up to plant his feet on the floor. he gives you no time to adjust, forcing you onto your hands and knees with an arm until you’re almost hovering over the younger.

“c’mon, i wanna hear you.”

“b-but, renjun…”

the other leans forward to place a kiss on the back of your neck, “s’okay darling, just focus on your pleasure.”

your protest is cut off by a sharp thrust right to your cervix, where the tip brushes against it so snugly that you can’t help but let a moan escape. jaehyun works to get those same sounds out of you, the clear thrill shown in the way you’re continuing to leak. a hand to your clit seems to do the job, making you twitch at the feeling as it combines with the movement of his hips.

“oh my g-god,” you whine, clutching desperately at his forearm, taken over by pleasure that you can’t make out anything but the wet, lewd sounds in between your legs.

“you’re so wet, so so wet, just f’r me,” jaehyun breathlessly says, rutting into you until you announce that you’re close, hands finding purchase in the sheets below you as the squelching sounds become louder and louder.

“oh- fuck! daddy, i-i wanna cum, wanna make a mess all over you-” jaehyun groans at your pleas, amplified by how your juices, with his pre-cum has made a translucent white ring around the base of his dick. he's deeper than you can imagine now, buried so much inside you until he brushes up against that one spot again.

“cum.” the single command sounded out in between groans has you seeing stars, white until you're gushing around him. all the while your body’s convulsing around his dick that it sends you to nirvana with his name repeated countless times.

jaehyun isn’t too far behind as he removes his length, pumping it as he cums right after you onto your back. when he leans forward for a kiss, you’re oblivious to how renjun is panting heavily, briefly meeting his dad’s eyes that the older flashes a smirk before capturing your lips selfishly, swallowing your pleads that he should cum inside next time, a promise that he'd fulfil the next time.

it was just up to renjun whether he would join, or not.

a/n: no, renjun doesn't have a crush on reader (jae isn't an asshole), but hearing her might've just changed that... 👀

pt. 4

[gallavichthings]

Artist’s Spotlight - Steorie

Drum roll, please!! It is my great pleasure to introduce as our first artist interviewed in this new series, the one, the only, Steph aka @steorie! Do you want to know more about one of the most prolific artists in the fandom, the one behind several fandom-famous fanart (including our lovely icon)? Then wait no more! Enjoy her interview (and go follow her, in the odd chance you don’t already).

S: Ok, uhm, where to start? 😆 I’m a tattoo artist from Germany and try everything to get my studio going right now. Other than that I’m either reading or drawing in my free time. I’m boring like that.

GT: How did you become a tattoo artist?

S: Oh my, I kinda stumbled into this. I was very unhappy with my job back at the time and a friend of mine (who is heavily tattooed) said that if I can draw I could tattoo it too. (which isn’t all that easy in the end 😅) But yea, I went and started an apprenticeship in a studio for a few months, then quit my job and started working as a tattoo artist full time. And I’ve been doing that for a good 3 1/2 years now.

GT: Has it paid off?

S: Oh most definitely. One of the best decisions I’ve ever made. :)

GT: I gather you've always been artistic. Did you take any art classes or just practiced by yourself?

S: I never went to an art school. I just have always been drawing since I can remember. :) I love watching livestreams of other ppl drawing/creating things, though. I learnt a lot that way.

GT: Do you remember when you started doing fanart? Or at least doing it consciously?

S: Hmm, I think proper fanart that wasn’t some horrible doodles where no one could see what it was supposed to be, might be fanart for sailor moon and dragon ball. 😌 Think I was around 11/12? But I’m not really sure though. 😅

GT: Hahaha I'm sure your doodles were still great. But omg, two of my favorite animes! Who are your favourite characters on them?

S: Usagi and Rei. <3 their friendship was everything to me. I also love Vegeta! I have a soft spot for mean looking ppl with a big heart. ❤️

GT: Love Rei! I'm an Aries like her, so I had something to relate to her. And I love love love Vegeta, though my favorite is Trunks. But Vegebul remains one of my favorite ships.

Do you remember your first ships ever on any show?

S: Vegeta and Bulma are one of my all time fav OTPs. Also Seiya and Usagi are I think, my first ever ship, back when I didn’t even know what shipping was. 😆

GT: Nice to know we have two OTPs in common! What are some of your other ships? Do you still make fanart for them as well?

S: I dont have a lot of shows that im invested in THAT much that i have the urge to draw fanart for it. But im still madly in love with Agron and Nasir from the Starz Show Spartacus. (Everyone needs to watch this tbh!)

Another one of my first otps in a show are Michael and Maria from the original Roswell Show back in the 2000. They had the best chemistry too. :)

GT: How would you describe your fanart style?

S: Uh…oh my, let me think. 😆🤔I’m a big ol romantic deep down in my heart. lol I guess that shows in my style? Also I love bright colors. I want people to start smiling when they see my art. 🙈❤️

GT: I would say the colors definitely are your most easily recognizable attribute!

Walk us through your process, please.

S: I have to admit that I never do any sketches tbh. I just start directly with the lineart once I got inspired with an idea and go for it. I mostly do digital art. I work on an iPad Pro and use the procreate app. I have a lot of back and forth going on when I start to color. I use lots of different layers and settings and fool around with the colors and filters until I like what I see. Oh my gosh, I’m so bad at explaining. In the end I just BS my way through art and hope for the best. 

GT: And what does inspire you? Where do you get your idea from?

S: I mostly get inspired by the show itself. But there are so many mindblowing fanfictions out there as well that constantly give me ideas. Also music and the lyrics of songs I love. :)

GT: How often do you start a new piece? And, on average, how long does it take you to complete it?

S: I usually don’t work on more than one piece at a time. I need to focus on one and don’t want to work on anything else before I finish the current drawing. I usually need a week, maybe two? Depends on how detailed the drawing is going to be, if I’m going to color it, if I will add a background and so on. :) My submission for the Gallavich zine (which you guys will hopefully hold in your hands soonish!) took me about 28 hours for example.

GT: Wow! That's dedication! And it shows.

Do you take prompts? What about commissions?

S: I don’t have enough time for requests. :( but I do take commissions from time to time if I can manage it next to my main job. :)

GT: What are some of your own favorite Gallavich fanarts?

S: Definitely the one you are using as an icon right now. And maybe one I did back in 2014 when I first started watching the show. It’s of them from season one, sharing a smoke in their winter coats. :)

GT: They're both great! And once more, thank you for letting me use your art as an icon.

What are some of the other people in the fandom you admire?

Anyone goes, not only here either, and not just artists.

S: You are very welcome. :))

Oh, there are so many talented people out who make the fandom such a special place. Let me think for a second.

Art wise I’m in love with Lulu‘s (@luluxa​) painting. The way she colors her pieces is absolute art goals. So very impressive. Also she adds so many details and makes it such an experience to look at her art. Phenomenal!c❤️ I also adore Mitchell’s (@psychicskulldamage​) art! His chibi comics are sooooo freaking adorable and funny! The style is also so unique and it brings me so much joy whenever he shares something new. ☺️💓

Another huge inspiration and talent I admire is Gray (@gallavichy​). Her stories just go straight to my heart and I have taken a lot of inspiration for drawings from her stories. The emotions she inflicted in me with her writing is unbelievable.

There are so many more ppl who needs to be mentioned but these three immediately come to mind. :)

GT: When did you first start watching Shameless?

S: I started back in 2014, when season 4 aired.

GT: And what attracted you to Ian and Mickey's relationship?

S: Well, first of all, the chemistry between Noel and Cam is just sooo good and they are both so amazing together. It’s so much fun to see them together on screen. I fell in love with Ian and Mickey’s teasing, bickering and how they fought so hard at such a young age to be together, in whatever way they could be at certain times. The connection they shared, even if they were apart and couldn’t be with each other, it was always obvious to them that they were each other’s person though. And that fascinated me and I was in deep. :’)

GT: Did you join the fandom right away? How was the fandom back then different from now?

S: Omg it’s been so long. 😂 I was still very much into Spartacus at the time and only sloooooowly stepped into shameless. But the fandom was immediately so very welcoming and supportive, I was in deep quickly. lol I would say the fandom hasn’t changed much? At least from what I experienced. Still lots of amazing art, stories, discussions and memes going around, next to ppl fighting tooth and nail about certain topics. 😅 We are a lot of very passionate people, so it never gets boring. 😆❤️

GT: Truly.

You mentioned the fandom being welcoming and supportive. Have the comments on your art always been positive?

S: Surprisingly, yes! The art I made during s4-5 for shameless is still my most popular shameless related stuff, if we take a look at the notes at least. It really blew my mind.

GT: Let's go back to Shameless. What's your favorite season of the show?

S: I would have to say season 4. It was just phenomenal. From the acting, to the story telling, to the whole mood of the season. I was just so invested in everyone's storyline. Frank and his failing liver, Fiona in jail and how she endangered Liam, Debs slowly becoming a young woman, SHEILA, even Sammi was fun to watch and her storyline with Frank really got to me, how she showered him and was there to bring his drinking buddies from the alibi to Sheila’s house when he was too weak to make it there on his own. Of course I don’t have to mention how brilliant yet gut wrenching Ian and Mickey’s journey throughout the season was. Just chefs kiss on all fronts.

GT: I just love Sheila.

Do you have a favorite episode and/or scene?

S: I mean my fav episode has to be 10.12. :)

GT: I think we all collectively died when we watched that!

What did you think of the ending? 

S: Tbh, yes. As far as it concerns only Mickey and Ian. (I didn’t like all the endless open endings for everyone else though) Their future looks so bright right now. I couldn’t ask for more. I’m sure they will have a good, sweet life together. <3

GT: Do you have any headcanons for their future?

S: I’m sure, they will expand their business as they mentioned in 11.10. Hire some guys, buy more cars and so on. I could imagine them each doing something different later on though and only function as the bosses of the transport business. I hope Ian can work in the EMT, nurse field again somehow? And as for Mickey, I could see him do more with his passion for art. Maybe he will work as a tattoo artist himself one day. 😆❤️

GT: I agree, I'd also love for Ian to go back to being an EMT, he was actually good at it. And hell yes to tattoo artist Mickey!

S: Other than that I think they will eventually move back to the South Side again, maybe buy a house? And I hope they are gonna travel together once their probation is over. See the world and everything it has to offer. :’) Maybe visit Mandy, wherever she is and then Fiona in Florida.

GT: I so wish they'd at least mentioned Mandy again!

If you could go back and change one thing in canon, what would it be?

S: I think I wouldn’t change anything? Well, obviously I wish I could undo any harm ever done to them, but that’s not how it works. Yea, I think I wouldn’t change a thing storytelling wise. I would have wanted to see them on THE date. No matter which season but it would have been some nice fanservice if they had shown them at sizzlers or something else on a date. ☺️

Okay wait.

Ian sleeping with that woman in season 7. Cause I think he was always sure about his sexuality and it was kind of unnecessary? (You could maybe link it back to his bipolar and him being kinda already a bit unbalanced after the fight with Caleb and maybe his meds didn’t work properly anymore, but even then I’m not that sure he would have done it?)

GT: What's the most challenging thing about creating fanart about them?

S: It’s the coloring for me. I can do lineart for hours and hours but once it’s time for color I’m like …lmao

GT: And what's the most fun part?

S: Oh definitely the hair.❤ I loooooove drawing hair. And Ian's and Mickey's are kinda unique, which makes it even more fun. 😊

GT: What are your favorite themes of tropes to draw?

S: Uh, I don’t have any? 😳

GT: Hahah, that's ok. Great, actually. But are there any themes or tropes you won't do?

S: Uh, I dunno…do you have examples of what kind of tropes are out there?😅

GT: Well, for instance, I know you didn't use to make smut art until very recently. What made you decide to go for it? (not that we're complaining)

S: Ah, i get it now. Well, I’m still very picky about nsfw stuff. I usually prefer to leave some things to the imagination, you know. But i kinda got bored a bit, drawing always the same kinda stuff and you can learn so much about anatomy if you draw ppl being intimate with each other! 😆 So yea,i learnt once again to never say never.

GT: Hahah

About about future works. Do you have any WIPs or ideas for future art?

S: I have a few things I wanna draw (but so little time.) I also work on a fun commission right now. If ppl are interested in WIPS or something like that, I sometimes post WIP stuff on my twitter. :)

GT: Nice to know!

Same as here right, @steorie?

S: Yes. :)

GT: Speaking of, I meant to ask you, why steorie? Is it a combination of your name and something else?

S: Haha yes, actually. 😅 it’s so lame. I always made a typo when writing my name on the keyboard when I was younger and Steph most often became Steo. The rie got added cause I liked the sound of it. 😂😂😂

GT: Well, it's definitely unique!

That's about it, love! Thank you so much for being the first in this series!

Leave a message to your numerous fans.

(I'm not joking btw)

S: Thank u so very much for reaching out and having this fun chat with me. :)

Just thanks to everyone for the constant support over the years. I read each and every tag and comment you guys leave on my stuff! Thank you, thank you! ♡

[zalrb]

OTH 2x10 REWATCH

OK I’ve gotten a couple asks for more OTH reviews and what had happened was the show was slowly sucking the life out of me that when I got to season 2, I couldn’t keep it together so I didn’t sit and watch episodes, I would skip ahead 10 seconds every few minutes and then I was getting so sick of it that I went back to watching GoT. LOL. But since it seems to be something a few people like I will go back to where I left off and do a couple of reviews.

1. Ugh Peyton and her like two-episode coke addiction arc. I actually find it hilarious that I hate Peyton more and not less now that I’m not a preteen.

2. IIIIIIIIII DON’T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYYYYYY jesus what a convoluted line.

3. “Nathaniel Hawthorne once wrote--” SHUT UP, LUCAS.

4. Lucas’ jacket, chair and wall are all the same tone. This is ridiculous.

5. I’m trying to decide if Dan hiring Jules to get into a relationship with Keith only to break his heart is high school petty or actually insidious. Maybe it’s because it SOUNDS like a high school prank. I mean, Nate did start dating Haley to mess with Lucas, which is very teen. But I guess like father, like son, idk.

6. Lucas, the colour brown doesn’t give you a personality.

7. “Because you’re better than that” the slut shaming in OTH is laughably prevalent. Brooke's decision to sleep with Felix without wanting a relationship doesn’t make her “less than”, my god. Especially since what’s meant to be conveyed is that she deserves an emotionally fulfilling relationship.

SIDE NOTE, I love how in the episode before (formal) when Anna is drunk and initiates sex with him and he stops it, it’s because he wants to make sure he’s in love first and not “you’re drunk and therefore can’t really consent to having sex”, I hooked up with the DOUCHIEST dude but before that time happened there was almost a time before that but I was tipsy and he wasn’t and so he was like nah, HE understood this concept but not Lucas Scott, The Sensitive Hero of Tree Hill   (and before anyone goes in the Olde Decade of 2000s, this was 2000s too)

8. “It took Brooke less than an hour to hook up with Lucas.” “Lucas wouldn’t do that, he’s with Anna.” “Really?” *points*

OH NO, NOT WALKING AND TALKING IN A PUBLIC SPACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

9. I’ll low it tho because that’s actually very teen. But they need the melodrama of Dawson’s Creek to pull off the fact that everything is fucking monumental to you at 16.

10. YO. IN 2005 THE SPARKLY CARDIGAN WAS FUCKING EVERYWHERE.

11. “It’s not about the camp, Haley, it’s about trust” I’m sorry but that’s not how that conversation would go, this is very after-school-special-theme-of-the-week type dialogue, a more natural response would be, “It’s not even about the camp, Haley, it’s about the fact that I’m putting this marriage first, are you? I want you to stop working with Chris.”

12. The reveal of Peyton’s locker has me like, realistically, if she went to school and saw that on her locker, she would go straight to the principal, not open it and get her books etc.

13. I know Nathan walked out of the apartment without changing but he can at least take off the tux jacket.

14. “The fact is man, I used to destroy guys like you. Daily.” I know Nathan was basically a villain in season 1 but did we ever see him beat someone up? I know I just watched the season but I erased it from my mind because I love myself.

15. Oh my god it’s been 10 minutes?

16. How would Lucas not know about the slur on Peyton’s locker? Everyone is supposed to be talking about it.

17. Oh, so he did know, he just didn’t start off with, “I heard what happened. I wanted to see if you were OK” because why be straightforward.

18. “You miss Jake, huh?” “OK, you can’t just walk in here and ask me something like that!” Girl, what?

19. “When was the last time we even had a conversation about anything real?” a) when was the first time? “I want my art to mean something.” How unique, Peyton. b) he’s TRYING to talk about something real NOW.

20. “Because a REAL friend would know about all the crap that I’ve been dealing with lately.” PEYTON, he JUST tried to ask you about Jake AND he came over and asked about the locker in a really stupid roundabout way. I swear, I hate this ship.

21. “Just go, please.” “OK. I’ll go.”

You can’t make THIS face and be Sensitive Guy, Chad, that’s a face that says “bitches be crazy”, it should hurt you that she can’t talk to you and I mean this even on a platonic level because that’s the kind of guy you’re supposed to be.

22. “Whatever you think, I really do care about you, Peyton.” In the FLATTEST voice ever, what is this, a Steroline scene?

23. “Lucas Eugene Scott.” “Eugene??” I thought Haley and Lucas were best friends since they were kids, shouldn’t she know his middle name?

24. I know Haley has a failing marriage and everything but Lucas is her best friend and he’s refusing to take a test that will determine whether or not he has a heart defect, I feel like that should ALSO be a priority for her.

25. I always thought this exchange was unintentionally funny. “Why wouldn’t you want to take the test?” “For lots of reasons! Basketball! The way I want to live my life!” Because while ‘the way I want to live my life’ encompasses many things, Lucas only lists two things. And also you could die if you continued to play basketball, Lucas, you’re a teenager, not stupid.

26. “Do you really think I would put a game before my life?” “I would.” “Oh, GROW UP” I wish she said that with more irony, the way Lily in GG would say it.

27. Also, I love how it’s all LUCAS LOVES BASKETBALL, BASKETBALL IS HIS LIFE but it’s also not at the same time? Unless he’s actually PLAYING basketball, Lucas doesn’t really talk about it or seem to care that much about it.

28. Lucas is a minor, can’t she legally make him take a test?

29. Oh, NOW Nathan takes off his jacket.

30. “I’m not going to see Chris anymore.” I’m just going to go on tour with him!

31. “These feelings won’t go away.” What an appropriate song for an angsty Peyton sitting on her bed.

32. And to be fair, what Peyton is going through right now is terrible, I get that, she’s just incredibly annoying as a character.

33. So the Peyton and Anna scene is actually a pretty good scene, I just think we need a bit more before Peyon gets to this place. What I mean is, the locker incident happens and then she and Brooke are sitting outside and Brooke is trying to cheer her up and she’s like the Old P Sawyer would’ve just rolled with this and she’s like I haven’t been feeling like the Old P Sawyer lately or whatever then she cuts school then when Lucas comes to visit her she’s crying and then she tells him to leave and then she’s sitting in the room listening to angsty music then Anna comes and tells her to laugh this off and then Peyton responds with the album and “what about the girl who can’t?” speech like she was always going to make a statement when nothing beforehand suggests that she was going to do that, it seemed like she was just going to try and wait for it to blow over so if Anna’s response sparked that anger then the dialogue should’ve been like, “You know, people have been telling me to laugh this off, to just roll with it, but...” *pause* and then we can get to the scene.

34. Brooke slashing Felix’s tires is lol.

35. LOL OTH’s budget was nothing

but their clothes still look better than RoP’s.

36. “I heard you fixed Brooke’s windshield. I wanna pay for it. I took some money out of the bank.” What else would you do, Mouth? Steal it?

37. Lucas’ favourite colour is black and he, like, never wears it.

38. Mouth is a hedgehog.

39. Remember when there was that tiktok video going around where people had to come to a party dressed as the first character they had a crush on and people came dressed as Sonic? I just left that alone.

40. Black principal! Because of course there’s a Black principal. Just like there’s a Black judge or a Black doctor or now it’s a Black therapist or police chief. Roles of authority that are two-liners or supporting characters. And many times and in the case of this principal, are there to be the person who shows some kind of prejudicial or biased thinking.

41. So in the DVD commentary Mark Schwahn went on and on about fighting with the network about this storyline because the execs didn’t get why Peyton was making such a big deal about it since she herself wasn’t gay and he was saying how he was telling the execs that her not being gay wasn’t the point then he proceeded to talk about how Hilarie was really nervous and uncomfortable about taking off her shirt in front of everyone but she was finally able to do it because she’s a professional and then you find out years later that Mark Schwahn is a fucking predator who sexually harassed the female cast and it’s just terrible because basically, he just wanted to see Hilarie without her top on.

42. “Oppression isn’t exactly a mystery to me. I feel your pain.” “NO, NO, YOU DON’T. I’m sorry but YOU don’t know anything about MY pain” this whole exchange is just UGH. Skipping ahead.

43. So, Lucas, do you ever go to school? Like you start there and then you don’t get to last period.

44. And why is your hood on? Everything you do is insufferable.

45. Wow, I have more than 45 things to say about this?

46. “Girls see me as a little brother” so you smash Brooke’s windshield? The original incel.

47. “Haley went after Nathan when he was a jerk, Brooke went for Felix, Lucas you’ve screwed up a lot this year and you’ve had a different girl every week” I mean, you’re not wrong, Mouth, but that was a disproportionate and violent reaction.

48. So. Felix. You put some cash and a picture of you and your ex in an envelope and slid it under Brooke’s door then left in the off chance she’d take the money, see the photo, and ask you about it so you can show her you’re a person? What kind of plan is that?

49. Nathan wears black more than Lucas.

50. “I guess Dan’s not the only I can’t trust” Lucas, you’re being COMPLETELY irrational.

51. Skills must say “dawg” at least once in a sentence otherwise we’ll forget he’s Black. It is known.

52. All these teens having bedrooms that have doors that lead to outside. I know there’s a better way to say this but you get what I mean.

53. There is no way Felix did not hear them talking. Stay in the bathroom.

54. I feel like Chris wouldn’t wear this candy striper shirt

he’s someone who would wear black, no?

55. So, I think Lucas’ favourite colour being black really struck a nerve for me for no rational reason.

56. Don’t studios cost money? Like it’s expensive to just be in a studio, you pay for the time.

57. In the DVD commentary they were saying that Bethany was kissing Chris back and so they had to do a few takes so it could be made clear that it was just Chris coming onto Haley but Haley let’s him kiss her for a pretty long time, she should’ve moved away much more quickly.

58. And she’s not nearly as upset as she should be.

59. “Your dreams are a bus ride away” that sounds SO unappealing to me.

60. “IT WAS ALWAYS THERE BETWEEN US HALEY WHETHER YOU ADMIT IT OR NOT.” “YOU’RE THE LIAR, ELENA. THERE IS SOMETHING GOING ON BETWEEN US AND YOU’RE LYING TO ME, AND YOU’RE LYING TO STEFAN, AND MOST OF ALL YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF.” All you men, just ugh, shut up.

61. If you’re having a bad day, I just don’t know if coke would be the drug of choice? The high lasts between 15-20 minutes that’s why people do it constantly. Smoke some weed, Peyton, chill the fuck out.

62. Oh look, Nathan’s in black again. And Lucas ... not so much.

63. I DON’T BUY IT LUKE, I THINK THERE’S SOMETHING IN YOUR HEART THAT YOU’RE RUNNING FROM. YOU KNOW THERE’S A GIRL YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR.” I just ... WHAT is this writing. What does Lucas’ dumbass refusing to take a test to see if he could DIE from a heart defect have to do with his FIGURATIVE heart? NOTHING. Having feelings for someone has NO ROOM in this conversation. “You can tell me your heart’s fine, but until you tell this girl how you feel, your heart’s going to be flawed.”My guy, that makes no FUCKING sense.

64. Shady drug dealing at night. All my friends either went to the dealer’s house or the dealer went to theirs.

65. Deb wasn’t in this episode at all and then she just shows up at the end?

66. Who says “I love you” for the first time on a machine?

67. “You know how much I care about you” “I really do care about you, Peyton” Lucas, SWITCH IT UP, this is why you repeat shit in letters, are you sure the text in The Comet isn’t just taken from your text in An Unkindness of Ravens? Because you plagiarize yourself constantly.

68. Lucas’ breakup is so fucking ridiculous. “But there’s somebody else and she’s a part of my history that came before you and I’ve been lying about how I feel about her and I need to see her tonight because I feel like she’s slipping away” does Anna really need to know that right after you break up with her you’re going to see the girl you ACTUALLY like? Although I just remembered that he is literally going right next door to Brooke so if Anna sees that’d be awkward. WOW Lucas is SUCH a fuckboy, it’s LAUGHABLE. SHE LIVES RIGHT NEXT DOOR, LUKE. (More a softboy than a fuckboy)

69. I know this is not the point, but I feel like this coke would be bad coke. I feel like when Cousin Greg went to Central Park to get Kendall coke and Kendall was like WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?

70. Don’t do drugs. 

71. JAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[twin-scars]

What I will never really understand is why the Byers moved to California. 

I know that Bob (RIP) floated the idea to Joyce back in season two to move with him but she still stayed in Hawkins (I mean, he got killed so...)

It’s been pointed out that Joyce didn’t have a place to work as most places in Hawkins closed up. But she could have easily moved to Indianapolis and looked for work. It’s a decent sized city and then Jonathan, Will, and El could drive to Hawkins on the weekend. They’d also be in a new place, starting over.

Then some say it was to protect El. Well, uhm, she was going to high school with Will and Jonathan with tons of people around. Were they that confident that the government still had no interest in El even though she didn’t have powers? Like they couldn’t find her under the name Jane Hopper? Then Owens says he chose Lenora because it was far away and in a safe community where no one would look for her. They couldn’t stay in Indiana, just some other town or city? Or even one state away? There’s no way Joyce could afford to live in California without tons of help, and they’d lose their support system.

And how did Hopper know Joyce moved to California? I guess Enzo could’ve looked for her but I don’t know, still seems weird.

Just never made sense to me that the Byers had to move 2000 miles away from their support system.

Joyce had to have known how much her kids were struggling. You cannot ignore the smell of pot lol so how did she not know Jonathan was smoking. El was constantly being bullied and though they don’t give much insight to Will, he probably missed Mike like crazy and might have been bullied too.

Jonathan was smiling in the photos of him and Nancy. The dude never smiled before her, not that happily. Nancy is the love of his life and I can imagine him not shutting up about her when he got high with Argyle.

Joyce cannot be that clueless.

Ugh I’m getting mad again that Nancy and Jonathan were separated for pretty much no reason. But again, it shows just how much Jonathan means to Nancy. She never hung out with Steve after they broke up in season two because she was always with Jonathan. Steve did not exist to her during this time.

To get Steve and Nancy to even interact, Jonathan had to be thousands of miles away.

Steve has matured some, but he still brushes off Nancy’s concerns. After Vecna released her from the trance and she was telling everyone what he showed her, Steve just waved it off saying Vecna was ‘trying to scare you, it’s not real’, and then later on confessing his fantasy that revolves around her, even knowing she’s in love with Jonathan and they’re still together.

And even if they weren’t, it’s still a cringe thing to say.. If anyone confessed that kind of fantasy to me I would be freaked out and angry. Like, how presumptuous of you to assume I’m going to fulfill your dreams? What’s in it for me?

I really wish Nancy could’ve said something to Steve. But she couldn’t.

The love triangle is stupid. Moving the Byers to California was stupid. The Duffers have all these wonderful characters but have zero clue as to what to do with them...