#i want them to act like a bickering married couple | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harmonysanreads · 19 days

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hello <3

wishing you freedom and happiness from academic hell before diving in. you opened requests so 👉👈

forgive me if this counts as idea stealing since you posted about it but yan! neuvillette with a darling who wants to file for divorce would be such a messy situation. court proceedings go to him now that the oratrice is no longer functioning. how do you expect to win against the law of the land?

filing divorce in a different land also isn't an option, because it is written in your marriage contract that you cannot leave fontaine without your husband and he sure as hell isn't going to come with you for something like this

oh well.

Jeux de Vagues

Yandere!Neuvillette x Reader

cw(s): yandere, implications of forced marriage, slight dehumanization, manipulation, fontaine archon quest act one spoilers, old married couple bickering (literally)

wc : 3k

hiii zuri!! i have been brainrotting this fic since version 4.0 so thank you so much for just giving me the opportunity to unleash it lol. for plot reasons this takes place between act 1 and 2. i dedicate this fic to all the anons who brain-rotted with me and kept me motivated to think about neuvillette with their creative asks <3 btw you get a 🍪 if you can recognize where the title comes from :>

“Husband, I wish for a divorce.”

In Spring, the snow of the bygone winter thaws and raises the tides. They twirl to the edges of the shores ; push and pull, back and forth, mesmerizing the nation of Hydro with their temptatious dance. You wonder what it'd take to entice the waves to your direction, to have the power to make them rage and placate. When one desires to control something great, they see its reflection upon mundane things — just as you envision yourself dictating the tides upon cups of dainty porcelain, noon to evening and midnight to dawn — your spoon conducts its rhythm.

In Summer, the waters boil and vaporize upon the touch of sunlight to reach the heavens and complete the cycle. Just as wisps of steaming tea tantalize their way upwards from cups and tea pots. Beyond that translucent veil stares back a pair of watchful eyes, undecipherable are their emotions and primordial their age.

“The tides of time heed no one's orders or pleas. Very well, mon trésor, let us begin this trial.”

You're quick to catch the hint and slow to react, deliberate and relaxed as you bring the rim of the cup to your lips. The tea scathes your lips and paints your tongue bitter, bitter, bitter — a smile stretches across your tingling lips, deeming the liquid's taste adequate to your present temperament. You are bitter, not because of the contents of this ‘trial’ but, due to the delay of it. You've been crossing days after days from heaps of calendars, preparing all your accusations and aligning evidence to back up your claims for this chance only comes once every fin de siècle.

“I heard your justice machine broke?” a ‘clang’ accompanies the tea cup meeting the saucer. You focus on the chirping of birds and the noises of crystal flies buzzing past instead of the possible damage done by your words. You hear it, the swell of rising waves before they pacify with a purposeful cough. You don't let the event’s lamentable duration plunder your motivation, more precisely, you take it as a good start.

“Calling it broken is quite the stretch. You and I both know that the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale—”

You swat a hand and the waves placate completely, sans any questions or any other brewing feelings. “I'm quite aware of what it's called, husband.” ‘I just could not care less’ goes unsaid.

You point your finger towards the Iudex of Fontaine, “You,” then return it back to yourself, “and I, both know the purpose of me bringing that incident up in our private trial.”

No amount of sensory loss would render someone ignorant of the mockery of your words. You bite the inside of your cheek in a lazy attempt to suppress a smirk, times like this really make you regret not having the privilege to face off against Neuvillette in the Court of this land ; you're quite sure your most recent stunt would earn you many bewildered gasps. If only the gates of your husband's manor crashed down, perhaps incapacitating him in the process for good measure.

“...Yes, we do. Your intention is to insinuate the impending prophecy and learn how we plan to prevent or battle it.”

Neuvillette's words resemble velvet in the manner they roll off his tongue, you catch his gaze drifting towards the chalice to his left, from where his reflection returns his stare. There are many tales passed among melusins of the equanimity practiced by your husband in even the most dire situations. But you have seen the depths of the ocean, where its secrets are forever concealed by an ever stretching darkness.

“Correct,” you affirm.

“Unfortunately, mon trésor, our investigations have not yet reached a decisive conclusion. While I can guarantee you that we'll do our utmost in the face of the prophecy, I cannot yet give you the specific details. Besides, this information is quite... arbitrary to our ‘trial’.”

The ocean returns your scrutiny, threatening to yank your breath away to that unknown darkness. You watch the ripples along its surface, wondering and devising plots to uproot the ocean's schemes from your safe space. You want to tear through that ataraxia and illuminate those depths for all to see its hideous secrets — so that your claims will no longer be deemed senseless.

“Well, you could try acting the part of the Iudex first.” you exhibit great interest in your nails.

“Apologies, mon trésor. The trial is now in session.”

The most preposterous trial there ever was, in fact ; spectated by cups of tea and plates of desserts, overlooked by the jury of birds and bees under the naked skies and one stubborn ‘judge’ to lay down the final verdict — who was also the accused in question. It'd be more fitting to call this some courtroom version of playing house and you wonder if Neuvillette sees it as exactly this ; since the notion of normal matrimonial life flies past his head.

You swallow your profound irritation at his nonchalance and that prickling soft gaze, the calm of the ocean surface is just a facade, you remind yourself.

“O honorable Chief Justice of Fontaine, riddle me of what I must do with my husband. He sees fit to cage me down while preaching justice simultaneously and allows me not to indulge in ‘rudimentary interactions’ with any other life forms. Do you not think that such hypocrisy is utterly ridiculous?”

Your hand cradles your heart, fully embracing the spirit of a mistreated spouse. Neuvillette regards it with an almost comical graveness, nodding as though he understands. Had it not been for the situation, you would've marveled at how willingly he's playing along with this fiasco.

A gloved hand stretches out to you in suggestion, “Perhaps it's because your husband just worries too much for your well-being?”

Your right eye twitches, “I’ve made it acutely obvious to him that I'm far from a toddler in need of constant supervision.”

The Iudex smiles succinctly, “I’m sure that he's not ignorant of that fact. But if, as you say, your husband guards you with such determination that you're not allowed to interact with any other forms of living organisms besides himself, it means that you hold great value to him.”

You cross your arms petulantly, it's not that you're forbidden from talking with everyone, many of Neuvillette's most trusted melusines do come to add flickers of color to your otherwise bleak existence sporadically. You're grateful for their kindness and brief companionship but, this small leeway does not outweigh the rest of your husband's misdeeds. Your eyes flicker to the patient eyes of the man separated by one small oak table, barely suppressing a scowl at his serene composure.

You despise it when he acts like the raw image of propriety, of an ideal husband ; so withdrawn from the covetous creature that he actually is — because it poses you as a lunatic, a lunatic who demands separation from what the rest of society perceives as perfection and debilitates all of your claims. The more you think about it, the more frustrated you get — you don't want to let frustration consume you, you don't want to lose this one opportunity for freedom. Your nails dig into the sleeves of your apparel as your mind scrambles to search for more accusations.

Why did you want a divorce again?

You control your erratic breaths forcefully, “Well, I don't feel safe in Fontaine anymore. A deadly prophecy is at our door and with no solution in sight. I'd much prefer to relocate to someplace with less volatile weather, like Liyue or Mondstadt.”

Neuvillette tilts his head, “Ah, you want to go on a vacation, am I correct? To be honest, I've been entertaining the thought of traveling to the other nations with you by my side for quite a while. Though, things being the way as they're now, that is not possible. I can promise you that after everything has been settled, we will go on a journey together, mon trésor.”

This time you don't bother to conceal your disbelief, of course he focuses on the part that most serves him and twists the narrative to further enrich his fantasies! You bite your tongue from yelling that you don't want a vacation, you want freedom from these suffocating high walls of marble. You don't just want freedom from Neuvillette, you want freedom from this cursed nation and it's solely Neuvillette's fault you were unable to do so with your kin five hundred years ago.

“Fontaine will face diplomatic and political consequences soon. Because you threw that Harbinger of Sumeru—”

“Sneznaya, mon trésor.”

“—I know that. My point is that we might face backlash from the Fatui in our vulnerable state and who knows? Fontaine might just collapse as a nation! I don't want to stay in a city like this.”

You freeze at the sigh that escapes Neuvillette's lips, you've been probing and digging for a normal human reaction from this man for a while, but at the instance that he actually gives it, you cannot help but find it jarring.

“Fontaine will not collapse from something as trivial as diplomatic pressure from the Fatui. Even though the prophecy looms above our heads, there are many factions that are actively working towards prevention. And even if Fontaine were to be drowned tomorrow, I have faith that not all of the citizens will be dissolved and you would always be my first priority. As for that Sneznayan Harbinger… we've merely followed the Court's protocols. If we did indeed convict him of crimes he did not commit, we'll most certainly compensate him to the fullest extent allowed by the law.”

For a transient eternity, all that echoed throughout the garden of the Chief Justice were the chirping of birds. Your mind carefully assesses the words from moments ago, searching for even a modicum of dishonesty. You watch the Iudex's unfettered gaze, at last giving a glimpse of the tumults raging beneath the pretentious still surface. You can hear the swelling of waves again, albeit not for the purpose to engulf but, with the determination to protect.

You'd recognize that look on Neuvillette's face even in your (unlikely) deathbed, the causation of your bafflement though is that, this is the first time you've seen it appear in correlation to something other than yourself. Your right hand idly smoothes your garbs and your left grips the wooden handle of your seat, you find both of your palms drenched in sweat upon contact.

“You’ve gone soft, ______”

You blankly admit in your semi-dazed state and it's Neuvillette's turn to take a deep breath. It's been a while since you've spoken that name aloud, the one that is only permitted to be uttered by you in private ambiances such as this and which serves as the origin for this clandestine marriage. For some reason you cannot quite comprehend — especially since your husband does not seem to suffer from it — your memory enjoys having a love-hate relationship with you. From what you recall at this instance, the last time you called the Iudex by his true name was when he gifted you this garden. Its utterance is so rare that even the bearer is rendered speechless each time.

Neuvillette copies your previous antics and pastes it onto the current situation with a prolonged look-over of your person, “Your apparel today suits you most exquisitely, mon trésor.”

You answer with a gracious eye-roll, “Don’t change the subject.”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine straightens his posture with a somewhat bashful chuckle, the afternoon sun's soft hues make the ivory strands of his hair sparkle. “Apologies, I've been meaning to compliment your appearance, not that it is ever short of radiant — I just could not find a suitable opening.”

You submit to the urge to slouch ever so slightly with a sigh, “You don't have to apologize for every little thing, you know?”

“Apologi—” Neuvillette corrects himself with a cough concealed by his fist, you watch with intrigue as soft coral dusts his pale cheeks, “As for your ‘question’, I will admit that throughout my coexistence with humans as Fontaine's Iudex, I've come to appreciate their ideals, characteristics and interpersonal relationships. In a way, I've understood myself to a great extent through observing them. Just as you wished I would.”

You furrow your brows in genuine confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your husband seems to steel himself for something, hands intertwined atop the oak table and eyes drained from his earlier playful light all too quickly. “You’ve always wished to become human. To view this world through the eyes of a mortal, to be able to have a taste of their myriad and complex relationships and... to die alongside someone you truly love.”

Somewhere in the crevices of your archaic mind, there's a vacuum hidden beneath the symphony of sea waves. Unchanging, uncharted and unperturbed by your attempts to identify what used to occupy that space. Neuvillette's cryptic admission creates a crack on what you assumed to be an empty spot occupied by white noise, the cleft dents your memories and spreads, a raucous scream threatens to rupture your eardrums.

“Are you, perhaps,” your fingers clasp onto the silk of your garb, “insinuating that you've granted me my ‘wish’?”

If you had gathered the strength to look up, you would've been blessed with the sight of the Iudex thrown off-guard. But the lapse in composure is short lived, “Of course.”

Something about his easy confirmation annihilates your decorum and replaces it with a rage of unknown origin, “So you think imprisoning me has made me happy? That it's made me feel human? That your kindness and preachings of justice have bewitched me so much that I've considered you as a lover for even a second? No, no and no! I have never and will never stop hating you, ______!”

But why do you hate him? Your thoughts echo back to you ; he's ensured you never have to ask for a meal, he's clothed you, he's provided a solid roof above your head and he's given you his heart — or at least that's what he says. For not once does a memory that he's mistreated you arise in your head but, what does bubble in your heart is an inexplicable hatred. A hatred so grave that it motivates you to not surrender to this unfair trial, contemptuous waves swell, rise to heights unseen, crash down—

“Do not forget that abandoned property belongs to whoever finds it first.”

And drag everything to the ocean's dark depths.

A jolt shakes your whole body, your eyes rise to meet the tempest in disbelief and suddenly, the dam shatters. Now you can see the serpent leering behind the charming flower, an unrestricted view of what the fair and ideal Iudex is inside those glimmering garbs of honor — a dragon with manicured claws and perfumed scales, seated to a chair of judgement yet, forever guilty of a sin he refuses to purge.

Only you remember that Neuvillette wasn't always like this ; in days not noted down in history he'd been an enigma, unsure of the significance of his existence, burning with contempt for the so-called Usurpers and sometimes cruel. But at least, he wasn't a hypocrite. He'd dug his talons deep into your heart and skin and engraved his name within your soul, he'd defiled the waters that construct your being with hatred and malice but at least, he hadn't refused to acknowledge that it was him who shackled you to this godforsaken nation, separated from the rest of your kin.

Neuvillette takes a deep breath upon noticing your erratic trembling, the tsunami recedes. “It always ends like this,”

It does. This excuse of a trial with your freedom as the wager, born of your husband's ironic belief of justice, that you should still be given a chance to speak up against iniquity. He'll take great note of any other issues that might cause you distress, but the actual concern will never be addressed — that's how it's been for five centuries. It is the kind of judge that Neuvillette has become in matters that concern you, finding loopholes to keep you attached to his name yet hidden from prying eyes ; all because of his principle that having a public personal relationship will bring the impartiality of the judiciary system to question.

“However, it must be done to ensure your safety.” you tense as he rises from his seat, gloved fingers trace the silk table cloth.

The grass crunches beneath his heel, “For who knows what the public's reaction would be if it was to be leaked, that the Iudex Neuvillette's spouse was the progenitor of the prophecy?”

You feel the familiar texture of Neuvillette's glove supporting your face, wiping the cascading tears that escaped without your notice. “Do you not remember, mon trésor, that you need me?”

Your vision blurs and all you see is blue, his blue or yours, your mind refuses to confirm. But what it does corroborate are Neuvillette's words, that you would not survive without his care, that you are the first who had wished to become human and that you are the first sinner.

You feel his touch more firmly this time, it's not warm like all the other times ; but soothing and sedating. As though, a cavity within your soul was given meaning and a portion of your memories hidden away. Your eyes are defeated against the temptation of slumber, but before the darkness engulfs you, you vividly hear the rumbling of an ensuing storm, the first of many tears of the sky hitting your skin.

“I suppose this must be my punishment. But, I would rather prefer being the recipient of your scorn and contempt than to not have you at all.”

But why go through such lengths? Neuvillette's conscience asks as he takes your limp body in his arms, the sound of heavy rain follows his footsteps back towards your shared ‘home’.

To this, he consoles himself : the words unspoken are the flower.

any questions regarding this fic are warmly welcomed <3

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin #teabutmakeitazure #neuvillette

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hualianisms · 5 months

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Not father & son, not master & disciple, but a secret third thing

First of all, let me preface this by being clear that everyone is free to headcanon anything they want and like/dislike anything they like/dislike! That being said, sometimes I see international fans interpret FDB as LLH's son, or their dynamic as parent-child or otherwise familial, and as a native chinese speaker, I just wanted to share some reasons why I personally did not interpret them as familial.

Granted, at the start of the show, FDB is kept in the dark and also not up to LLH's level of skill in solving cases. However, FDB quickly catches up in crime-solving skills, intellect and maturity by the 2nd half of the show, after a well-written growth arc. I think the beauty of the characters and relationships in this show is that they grow & evolve, and are meant to do so. The dynamic that LLH & FDB had in episode 1 is quite different from their dynamic at the end of the show. By the later episodes, they are 2 adults who are very much equals.

Why I don't read them as father & son:

LLH & FDB act and speak in a manner that is far too informal & familiar with one another, which would be extremely inappropriate for any kind of parent & child, even a surrogate one. Several times, FDB calls LLH by just his first name "Lianhua", and sometimes even calls him "Damn Lianhua" when he is angry/upset at LLH. This would be extremely rude for a disciple to call a master, or a son to call a father. No son talks to his father the way FDB talks to LLH, and no disciple talks to their master like that. Unless the son/disciple hates the father/master, and is outright rejecting his father/master altogether. As we see in the show, not only does FDB not hate LLH at all, he instead cares deeply for LLH and would do anything to save him. Why, then would someone scold/curse someone they care about? Does the trope of the upset spouse/partner sound familiar?

For comparison, see FDB's interactions with He Xiaohui, who he is close to - he is informal & affectionate with her, but never calls her anything other than "娘 niang" ("mother"). I can't emphasize enough how taboo it is in Chinese culture to ever call your parent or parental figure by their name under any circumstance.

2. In ep 31, FDB himself explicitly rejects the idea of LLH as his shifu and himself as LLH's disciple, responding that he is too old to be LLH's disciple and it was merely a joke. He clearly sees LLH as an equal, and rejects the notion of their relationship being anything other than that of 2 adult equals. LLH also tells his shiniang that FDB is not his disciple, and a few episodes ago LLH told FDB that he has never understimated FDB.

Coding/hints as something other than platonic:

Zhiji/zhijiao - FDB calls LLH his 知交 zhijiao in ep 19, and 知己 zhiji in ep 34. "In this life, I, Fang Duobing, recognize you as my only zhiji." is practically a love declaration. And this bond is reciprocated by LLH, bc in a deleted line in ep 19, translated by forayuarchive on twitter, LLH is the one who first calls FDB his zhijiao.

To clarify, Zhiji is not specifically a romantic term, but it's what was used in both The Untamed and Word of Honor - both dramas based on danmei novels with canon gay main pairings - to bypass censorship, to code the bond between the main duo as deeper than your typical platonic male friendship. (See this post for a detailed explanation of the significance/history behind the term zhiji, and see this twitter thread for an explanation of the meaning of zhijiao in MLC - especially how zhijiao is specifically mutual, reciprocated).

2. Married bickering - forayuarchive on twitter has discussed in these twitter threads how the tone of many of LLH & FDB's interactions (especially FDB) is similar to how married couples or romantic partners speak to one another bc of the level of familiarity, tone and language. For my fav example, see this note (translation by forayuarchive) that FDB left LLH in ep 35, which reads pretty much like a note that a spouse/partner might write when leaving their shared house in a hurry.

3. "Xiaobao" - Personally as a native Chinese speaker, LLH calling FDB "xiaobao" in front of everyone is a level of intimacy that genuinely would make me feel embarrassed to hear as a third party. 小宝 xiao bao (literal meaning = "little treasure") is usually something you call actual babies/children AND is FDB's family nickname for him, so if you're calling a grown man that in front of everyone including his colleagues, family and even strangers, then one might assume he is likely either your biological family or your romantic partner. (For comparison, just imagine calling your s/o their parent's special childhood nickname for them at work.)

4. Deleted lines where FDB calls LLH "xiaohua'er". 小花儿 Xiaohua'er ("little flower") is very intimate and feels like something someone might call a lover. Or, at least, definitely not a platonic shifu, even less so a parental figure. (For meta on the names that LLH & FDB use for one another, see forayuarchive's twitter thread.)

5. More deleted scenes (translated by forayuarchive on twitter), perhaps cut due to censorship, which make apparent LLH's high regard and deep care for FDB. For e.g., a line of internal monologue by LLH in ep 40, translated here by forhenjun, shows that LLH thinks of FDB as the only person in his two lifetimes who has always treated him as a human being rather than putting him on an unfair pedestal.

6. Official MLC accounts act like as if they ship them.

As murderedbyhomework mentioned, there is a song in the official soundtrack of MLC called "Fanghua's Day-to-Day Life" (yes, the exact same words as their ship name). Sounds like a couple's daily domestic life, doesn't it?

The official iQiYi Romance youtube channel lists clips of LLH & FDB under the romance category.

The official MLC douyin account posts MVs with emotional captions (e.g. this one translated here by forayuarchive) that emphasize how much both LLH and FDB mean to one another. Another official MLC douyin calls LLH & FDB the person each other trusts the most.

The MLC clips posted by the official Guangdong TV weibo account also has captions such as these (translated by rice_jpg) that straight up describe FDB's feelings towards LLH as "when you like someone" (very similar CN phrasing as the phrasing used to describe romantic crushes).

7. They are subtly paralleled with a canon straight romantic couple (see fanqxiaobao's twitter thread on the parallels btwn LXY/QWM scenes and certain LLH/FDB scenes). MLC also made a distinct change from the novel by not having FDB get married to Princess Zhaoling, even though the drama could have easily given FDB a romance with her.

8. If you're familiar with chinese romantic tropes or the danmei genre, LLH & FDB fit many common romantic tropes e.g. sharing a drink on the rooftop under the moonlight, forgotten first meeting in childhood (and then meeting again properly as adults), power couple fighting side by side (they even held hands!), nianxia, protective younger ml, sickly older mc - just to name a few. Danmei even has many stories of shizun/shifu & disciple pairings who fall in love as adult equals.

There's honestly lots more but these are just some off the top of my head. Again everyone is free to interpret anything! This is just me explaining why as a native chinese speaker I personally did not read their dynamic as that of a father and son.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #li lianhua #fang duobing #fanghua #mlc meta #ik i alr made a post abt this but i just wanted to compile everything tgth in one post for my own ref too #full credit to the ops of the sources linked for the translations and meta!!#let me be very clear this is not me telling anyone to ship fanghua!! everyone is free to do/not do whatever they want; fandom is free #and to clarify this is not against feihua/ot3 at all; i multiship too #this post is solely about the 'fdb is llh's son' take #just explaining why shipping them is a valid interpretation given certain nuances in their portrayal

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starmanyestherealone · 6 months

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Lokius acting like husbands in s2

WARNING: Spoilers for episodes 1-3 of Loki season 2

I missed them, the way Loki immediately knows something is wrong and he's so worried for Mobius literally melts me

And of course, it goes both ways:

I also love how Loki's just being Loki, saying that he's fine when he's clearly not, and how Mobius won't have any of his shit

Oh and the time Mobius treated their mission like a date?

"(...) and the balloon park, that sounds like it could be fun"

He literally made Loki go through every attraction that fair had to offer and through a "not-so-brief detour for refreshments" ,as Loki calls it, and for what? Surely not the mission

What amazes me the most though is that Loki knows that it's a total loss of time but he follows Mobius nonetheless, just 'cause his husband wants to do that stuff.

Or are we gonna talk about the fact that Loki, during said """date""" must have been staring at Mobius's face (aka lips) to have noticed the crumbs in the following scene?

And ofc, can't miss Loki patting his husband's shoulder to let him know he is there for him & calm him down when everything is just balls to the walls with the timeline (#everytouchever)

Their adorable bickering/teasing

Mobius: "A little over the top, don't you think, all the shadow play?" Loki: "I thought it was spot on"

Loki: "I thought you said it didn't look that bad" Mobius: "I lied"

(Honestly, the whole series elevator scene was just them being an old married couple)

"I was following you" "No, I was following you" "Mobius, you were clearly ahead of me"

They are so fucking cute together tho

And no matter what you can't deny the fact that they care for each other

Casey: "Hey Mobius? Loki was jut here looking for you" Mobius: "Loki's here?"

I mean, the tone of his voice? Please, he was so worried he almost couldn't believe it.

And by the way, the first thing that they did was just run up to each other.

Mobius wasn't even mad that Loki killed/helped kill He Who Remains and sent the whole timeline to fuck itself, he was just glad to see him. And Loki? I mean, he literally barged into the war room without a care in the world because he needed Mobius to recognize him, like, wtf these two need to bone so bad.

#they are so silly #and in love #and i love it #lokius #loki laufeyson #mobius #loki season 2 #im insane #i love them #lokius are husbands

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oharababe · 3 months

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CONCEPT 02 －professor rivalry with miguel

professor! miguel o'hara x professor! reader mature: just the two of them bickering. wc: 581 academic rivals to potential situationship.

Molecular Biology and Genomics; two subjects of science that interlink with each other. But unfortunately, you and Miguel do not.

The two of you have this competition in the subjects you both teach your area of interest is molecular biology, whilst Miguel's is genomics. Both of you are professors at Neuva York Institute and this rivalry started back when you and Miguel started as students. Competing for the same grades, trying to come up with impressive projects and research and challenging each other when it comes to critical thinking and debates. Even now as alumni and professors of NYI, the fire between you and him hasn't extinguished.

You and Miguel always clash when it comes to the subjects you both teach. There isn't a day that goes by where neither of you would miss out hearing each other's name in the classes you both teach. "Oh? Professor O'Hara said that learning about the ACGT bases is just a child's play?" You repeated, nodding to yourself as you tried not to sneer in front of your students. It's not their fault that his students are also your students since both subjects are certainly connected. They think it would help them progress to another year of studying.

You can almost hear Miguel's voice in your head, scoffing at you in his usual treatment. "Well, tell him as the professor of genomics, he should know that without understanding the concept of our DNA molecule, the area of his interest would just crumble into a hypothetical theory. To do a genomic mapping without learning about the DNA structure would just be a fantasy thought in the science department if people wouldn't bother to take my subject. Pass the message to O'Hara, would you?"

When it comes to presentation research proposals, Miguel is always five steps ahead. He explains his scientific research clearly and thoroughly. But you always find a weak niche of his to point out and debate it. And in Miguel’s case, he shows no mercy towards you about your research proposals. Finding every little fault to the tiniest detail. “That wouldn’t work because the genetic code doesn’t match with what you wanted and it won’t get you the protein you want for your DNA,” Miguel argued. “You’ll have a shit genomic library for your research so come up with a better proposal.”

You and Miguel would bicker at any point in time. But what’s more applauding is that everyone in the institute thinks that you and Miguel are suited for each other. Even daresay, the two of you would fall in love, already acting like an old married couple. Ha, as if!

No matter how many times the two of you happen to be in the same room together, making a cup of coffee or tea at the same time, you can’t see yourself falling for someone like Miguel without frowning. No matter how many times you catch his gaze and he catches yours, the tension from the glaring across the room heightens, you don’t see how people can fathom the thought that you and Miguel are meant to be together.

And no matter how many times you and Miguel bicker in the shared lab room, bodies leaning close intimidated in frustration as the two of you pick on each other’s thoughts, you convince yourself that in no way the two of you would start kissing from the heated passion. Even if that thought lingers in your mind at every argument with Miguel.

former molecular biology and genomics major here 😭 i graduated uni like three years ago and did both subjects. it was a blast and i did lose hairs from the intense learning. i'm working on professor rivals with miguel fic because i cannot get this out of my head. professor miguel does things to me and i want you to experience this with me too.

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@99matterss @tojishugetiddies @miauamy @pigeonmama @oyayablog @therealloopylupin2099

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #the miguel effect #miguel o'hara drabble #miguel spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara blurb #written by © lavie #* jan 24 reads

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apt502-if · 6 months

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NIKKKK since we didn't see M in the demo, could you tell us more about them?? Plan to romance them first (bickering rivals to lovers let's GOOOO) and I'm soo curious how they are acting when we kiss kiss fall in love.. especially since I imagine my MC and them doing a 'claiming they're rivals but they're just bickering like a couple that has been married for 50+ years and everyone sees it but them' LMAO..like they're in another one of their lover's quarrels when the kids at their school go 'couple goals!!!!' and they both shout 'NOT A COUPLE!!!!' and the kids go 'we're mentally planning the wedding' haha just..M crumbs please I am on my last leg..idiots in love..they're not leaving my brain..anyways love love LOVE the game and have the best of weeks!!!!!!🍀🍀🍀

Hmmm. M is a smartass but a cocky and cool smartass. They act like everything is beneath them but they're very helpful at work. Basically, they're a "ugh fine I'll help" kind of person but they put their all into making sure everything runs smoothly. In the beginning, they'll be super cocky around MC and will find any reason to bother them. They just want to see MC snap :P

When they're in love, they are in denial. They angry at themself for blushing and giving into their feelings. They get nervous and panicky so they get even more mean as a defense mechanism. They will definitely bicker much more when they have a crush just because they're trying to convince the world they don't LOL hehe

#mail #about: mona/mason

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generalllimaginesss · 9 months

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A Night to Remember

Trevor Zegras imagine :)

As always, slightly proofread, so read at your own risk. Not too many warnings….kissing and a few cuss words maybe? Let me know if you want a part 2 or au!!

“I’m not going on a date with him,” Her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at her best friend in front of her.

“Hattie, please. He hasn’t shut up about you for like 3 years. Give him a chance,” Jack begged the girl.

Hatton and Jack had been best friends since diapers, practically inseparable, following the other wherever that may lead them. Platonic soulmates was the best way to describe the pair. When Trevor Zegras came into the picture, however, Hatton naturally developed feelings that were slightly jealous of his and Jack’s friendship. She learned to get over that feeling when she realized the boy wasn’t going anywhere. According to the boys they were the besties, but Hatton held up the fact that they were “the original besties plus Zegras.”

Trevor’s personality couldn’t be more different from Hatton’s. Where Trevor was outgoing, affable, and slightly obnoxious, Hatton was reserved, introverted, and didn’t go out of her way to make conversation with people she didn’t know well. She was the antithesis of everything that Trevor presented himself as. That didn’t stop the boy from being hopelessly in love with her for some time. Hatton couldn’t possibly keep count of the amount of times he had asked her on a date. The answer was always the same: absolutely not.

Jack was usually the buffer between the two, occasionally having to separate them from bickering like an old married couple.

“He’s annoying,” Hatton persisted, her stubbornness was impressive to the average person.

“Ok, I can’t argue with that, but he said please,” Jack pointed out, suggestively raising his eyebrows as he reasoned with his friend.

“I did say please,” Trevor’s voice called from the living room.

“See, he said please,” Jack couldn’t possibly finish this conversation without Hatton agreeing. He had about all he could take of being in the middle of the two.

Hatton groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair in annoyance. On one hand, she couldn’t give in after years of denying Trevor the chance to a date. She couldn’t possibly compromise her reputation of being hard-headed. On the other, however, she wondered if he would shut up about it if she just agreed to one simple date.

Jack could tell she was debating it internally, which was a win anyway. He had never gotten her to think this far ahead about it. He watched as Hatton began to chew the inside of her cheek, a habit she had when she was indecisive. Jack wore a smirk on his face as she slowly came around to the idea of a date.

“This is a one time thing, Hughes—you can wipe that smirk off your face right now. This means absolutely nothing except that I’m tired of him asking,” She set the record straight before anything else could be said.

Jack nodded his head feverishly as he squealed like a little girl. He ran from the kitchen and into the living room where Trevor was already on his feet doing a celebration dance. Hatton slowly removed herself from the stool at the bar and sluggishly walked to the boys.

“So I’m thinking tonight, I’ll pick you up at 8:00 and we can go get dinner at a surprise restaurant. After that we can go see the Barbie movie, and then after that we can go look at the stars,” Trevor rambled on as Hatton stood wide-eyed.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had roughly 3 years to plan this so I don’t know why you act surprised that I have it planned out already,” Trevor was talking 90 miles per hour as he was collecting his keys, wallet, and phone off of the coffee table. He was dancing all the way to the door, but before he left he reminded Hatton of the time he would be picking her up.

“Oh! Dress kind of dressy. The restaurant is a little more on the formal side!” He called before he shut the door. Jack was snorting from laughing so hard. He truly wished he could be be a fly on the wall for their date tonight.

“I fucking hate you,” Hatton deadpanned glancing at the time and noticing she had about 3 hours to get ready.

“I love you too, Hattie!” He chuckled as he ruffled her hair.

“You should probably go get ready!” He called from the kitchen.

•••

Hatton took advantage of the time she had to take a full body shower. She immediately felt refreshed as she prepared to do her hair and makeup. She decided on a more natural makeup look as it was her signature style. She matched a black t-length satin dress that had a slit up to her mid-thigh to a pair of nude heels that tied around her ankle.

The time was currently 7:42, but the knock from the front door revealed that Trevor could actually show up on time. Her mother sounded surprised when she opened the door, discovering that it wasn’t Jack at the door.

“Well hey there, Trevor! I’ve got to admit, I was not expecting to see you here,” Hatton snorted sarcastically at the reaction. She made last minute touches on her makeup, spritzed on perfume, and grabbed her purse as she headed for the stairs.

Whatever conversation that was happening between her parents and Trevor ceased immediately, and she had to admit she felt like a Queen. Everybody’s eyes were on her and she was surprisingly loving it.

“I feel like your blue is going to be too much with my outfit,” Hatton pointed at his royal blue jacket and dress pants.

It took a few seconds for Trevor to process a coherent thought, but he finally was able to clear his throat a little and get it out, “Wow-ok, haha. Three years didn’t quite prepare me for this.”

He nervously wiped his hands on his pants as he began to help her out to his bronco. Hatton’s mom was trying to suppress her smile, knowing it would only upset her daughter, but when the two young adults were finally outside she looked at her husband.

Hatton’s dad couldn’t even pretend to be the tough guy if he wanted to. He had to give Trevor props for never giving up on his daughter. No matter how many times him and his wife had sat and listened to Hatton rant about the boy, her dad knew deep down that something would come of it one day. A boy isn’t just hung on a girl for that long for the joy of it.

Meanwhile outside, Hatton was trying to be her usual self around Trevor. She was trying to push his buttons, but Trevor wasn’t taking the bait. He opened the door for Hatton, ran around to his side of the vehicle and got situated in the driver’s seat, finally cranking the bronco. She started to make a snarky comment about his lack of socks with his dress shoes, but was immediately cut off.

“Hatton, you look fucking gorgeous. I’m not going to argue with you or aggravate you. I want this to be an actual date. Can we, I don’t know…maybe pretend like we just met and have a clean slate for the night?” Trevor suggested, stealing glances at her as he tried to focus straight ahead on the road.

Hatton was taken aback by this behavior from him. Had she ever seen him act like this? She racked her brain to recall a time, but couldn’t think of one. Playing with one of the rings that decorated her finger, she made eye contact with him and threw him a quick grin.

“Ok,” She managed to breathe out, a foreign feeling of flutters in her stomach made her heart speed up slightly.

The drive to the restaurant took about 30 minutes, but the two managed to make small talk. Nothing too serious, mostly things concerning Hatton’s college, a few mentions of the Hughes family, and if Trevor thought he would be back at Anaheim soon.

Trevor pulled up to the valet where the attendants opened Hatton’s door and stole the driver’s seat from him. As the pair were walking to the front door, Trevor grabbed Hatton’s hand, intertwining their fingers. This sudden action caught her off guard, so she pulled her hand back out of instinct.

Trevor gave her puppy dog eyes and Hatton succumbed to his wishes, slowly returning her hand to his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze as somebody began to open the door for them both.

The restaurant wasn’t busy, which Trevor was thankful for. He wanted something low key because he knew that’s what Hatton would want.

“Reservation for Zegras,” He smiled at the host as they welcomed them. They were taken to a quiet corner, only one other table around them was occupied. He pulled out Hatton’s chair for her. And they both began to look at the menu.

“You know I really wasn’t expecting this from you, Z,” Hatton glanced over her menu at the boy in front of her.

“You highly underestimate me, Hattie,” He grinned and flashed a wink at her, “This is barely the beginning of the date, too.” He reminded her.

The two ordered their their drinks and food and immersed themselves into a conversation.

“I know you mentioned college on the way here, but do you have any idea what you’ll be doing once you’re done? You’re in your senior year, right?” Trevor sipped his wine as he waited for Hatton’s response.

“Yeah, I am actually. I’m majoring in Architecture, so I’m planning on applying to some of the companies around here in Michigan. I don’t know, maybe I’ll make it out of here one day,” Hatton chuckled before sipping her wine.

“Have you thought about going somewhere outside of Michigan?” Trevor wasn’t about to ask her if she wanted to move to California with him, but there was a little voice in the back of his head that was hopeful she wanted to leave Michigan. What if things worked out between them? Would she want to travel the country with him? Who knows, but for now he just needed to take this one date at a time.

“I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of where I wanted to go though. Probably where the most money is,” She trailed off.

“That’s understandable,” Trevor stated at their server rounded the corner with their food.

The two continued talking as they ate, slowly learning details that they didn’t know before. Trevor paid for the food and they were off to the movie theater.

Because it was later, there were maybe a handful of people in the theater. The two ordered a large popcorn for them to share, as well as two coke icees. Trevor tried to get Hatton to share that with him, but Hatton insisted that she didn’t drink after people.

They found their seats and situated themselves in a comfortable position. The commercials were still playing when Hatton watched Trevor throw popcorn in the air and catch it with his mouth.

“Trevor, you would choose the Barbie movie to watch,” She laughed when he missed a piece and it went down his shirt.

As he wiggled around trying to free the piece of popcorn, he looked at Hatton and shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? I like to think of myself as a feminist.” He flashed a smile as he freed the popcorn.

Throughout the movie, Hatton noticed Trevor was getting closer and closer to her. It started with them both in their respective seats, not getting into each other’s space. About 20 minutes into the movie, Trevor rested his arm against hers on the arm rest. Halfway through the movie he placed his arm on the back of her seat, but didn’t touch her. It didn’t take long after that for him to pull the classic “yawn and stretch and put the arm around her” move.

Hatton tried very hard to pay attention to the movie, but every time she glanced at Trevor he was already looking at her. Every time she got caught looking they would both giggle like high school kids and turn back toward the screen. She didn’t know what possessed her to act like this, all she knew was that she was actually having fun with Trevor. Never in a million years did she ever think that would cross her mind as she spent time with him. It was refreshing.

The movie finished and the two loaded back up in Trevor’s SUV. “Now where exactly are we going to be looking at stars?” Hatton questioned.

“You’ll just have to see when we get there,” Trevor chuckled. The two were jamming out to early 2000s pop music when Trevor turned onto a dirt road that apparently was leading to nothing. He turned the radio down when they came to a clearing in the trees.

When Hatton finally looked out and saw how clear the sky was, she could barely peel her yes off of it long enough to get out.

Trevor grabbed some blankets from the backseat and took his shoes off. He climbed on the hood of the vehicle and onto the roof, setting up the blankets so they could lay there. Hatton studied him as he was doing so. She noticed that when he was focused he would stick his tongue out slightly. His hair was curlier toward the nape of his neck, and he hummed to himself quietly.

“All I ask is that you take your shoes off before climbing up here,” Trevor said as he patted the blanket beside him. Hatton did as he said and tried her best not to flash anything as she climbed up. She snuggled under the blanket and looked up at the stars.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, every now and then pointing out specific constellations that that found. Trevor slowly laced his fingers together with Hatton, a smile decorated his face as Hattie didn’t object. He was tempted to pinch himself because he couldn’t believe this was real. The moment he had been dreaming of for at least a few years was happening, and there was absolutely nothing that he would change about it. The night was perfect. Hatton was perfect. Even if she was only doing this to shut Trevor up, he couldn’t help but think that something was going to happen because of it. He had a feeling that she had a lot more fun than she expected.

“Can I ask you why you’ve wanted me for so long?” Hattie’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Trevor thought about it for a few seconds, wanting his answer to be as accurate as possible, “In the beginning it was because I thought you were smoking hot. I mean we’ve known each other for what, 6 years? My 16 year old self thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen,” He glanced over and saw that Hattie was crimson red. He took note of how adorable she looked.

“Thank you, I guess,” she laughed and looked back at him.

“After knowing you for a few years, I don’t know, it was just like I had to have you. We have very little in common, we handle situations different, but you’re loyal. Watching you be friends with Jack, and even if you don’t admit it, when we were becoming friends I just realized how deep and hard you love,” Trevor paused and realized he had been rubbing his thumb across her hand.

Hatton took this moment to speak up, “I do have to admit I’ve come out of my shell since knowing you. You don’t take no for an answer, obviously, so it was either I start getting out of my box and hang out with you, Jack, and the boys or watch you steal my friend. There was no chance in hell I was letting that happen though,” It was Trevor’s turn to laugh now.

“I was scared shitless the first time I talked to Jack about it. Honestly, I thought you like him for the longest. It wasn’t until you were giving him genuine advice about girls that I was sure there was nothing going on between the two of you,” Trevor admitted.

“Sometimes I think that we were lovers in a previous life. I believe we gave each other all of our love in that life, so now that we found each other again it’s time to give other people our love. It would have been selfish to have him for two lifetimes,” Hattie winked at Trevor.

“That’s a unique way to think about it, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed. I wouldn’t have had this chance if you both were selfish with your love,” Trevor used his fingers to quote the last part.

He was going to say something else when Hattie’s phone began to ping. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was almost one in the morning.

“Why the hell is Jack pinging my phone,” She groaned and opened her phone to her contacts. She tapped his name and began to FaceTime him.

“Hattie, why aren’t you home yet?” Jack question as soon as the call connected.

“Jack, are you at my house?” Hattie thought she recognized that background of the call.

“I am, say hi to dad,” he angled his phone to his left and showed her dad seated next to him on the couch.

“I can’t with you,” Hattie rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“Can I see my other best friend please?” Jack asked, referring to Trevor.

Hattie turned the camera to Trevor and Jack’s face immediately lit up, “Hey, bud. It’s nice to see you both have your clothes on,” Jack laughed, but was immediately met with a hard nudge from Hattie’s dad. “Not that there would be a reason for you to not have your clothes on of course,” Jack smiled at Hattie’s dad.

The three of them talked and laughed until Hattie’s parents made Jack go home so they could go to sleep. Jack hung up, leaving the two of them alone again.

“You know it’s 2:30 in the morning?” Trevor looked at the girl beside him. He watched her nod her head, silently letting each other know they didn’t want it to end.

They loaded everything back in the bronco, putting their shoes back on, and leaving the clearing. On the way home Trevor played laid back music. He attached his hand to hers once again and they rode back to Hattie’s house in a comfortable silence.

The drive seemed to go by too quickly, neither one wanting the night to be over, though Hattie might not admit to many people.

Trevor pulled into her driveway and got out to walk her to the door.

“Thank you for finally saying yes,” Trevor smiled at her as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, you exceeded my expectations by a long shot,” Hattie was looking everywhere except at the boy in front of her. From all of her previous first dates, this is the time when she would be kissed. She didn’t know if Trevor got the memo though.

“Ok well, see you tomorrow at Jack’s?” Trevor felt the awkwardness in the air. He couldn’t decide whether he should kiss her right there or give her space. Would he be pushing his luck if he did it?

Hattie turned to the door, her hand landing on the handle, when Trevor tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, expecting him to want to say something else, but was met with his lips crashing onto hers. She was a little shocked as he didn’t act like he was going to kiss her at first. It took a few seconds, but she finally closed her eyes and kissed him back.

It was a kiss that needed to happen. All of the tension that had built up throughout the years was let loose and whatever wall that Hattie had kept up was absolutely destroyed. The Trevor that she was kissing right now did not feel like the same Trevor that had drove her absolutely insane since she met him.

Trevor pulled away first, slowly putting distance between them until he looked into her eyes, wanting to see if there was anything left unsaid. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

As Hattie got ready for bed, she found herself reliving the whole night. She hadn’t had the much fun in a while. She needed that. Every thought that she had led back to the kiss, though. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

She took her makeup off, threw on a sweatshirt and some underwear, crawled into her bed and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Trevor couldn’t stop his brain from thinking that night. No matter how many melatonin he took, how many sheep he counted, he just couldn’t shut his eyes. All he could think about was how soon he could take her out again.

***

I’m seriously thinking about doing an au out of this. But thank you for reading! If you have any suggestions on what to do next please tell me!

#trevor zegras #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl x reader #jack hughes #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagines #trevor zegras imagine #best friends

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boldlyvoid · 8 months

Text

I Know Places: Roadkill

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: Once again, Aaron puts himself in harm's way. Once again, reader scolds him for it. Bickering like an old married couple in front of the whole team, it becomes glaringly obvious that they're more than just coworkers now.

Warnings: background Moreid, Canon Typical Violence (mentions of possible rape, car accidents, hit and runs, murder) angst with a happy ending, arguing, worrying, makeup sex (first time together) teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies.

Word count: 14.9k

Not much changes between them at work. They’re still acting as professionally as possible, only now with longing stares all across the country and only one bed during their hotel stays.

In the last few weeks, they’ve had 4 cases. Each has gone by as smoothly as possible, without accidents or escapes or injuries. And Aaron’s stopped obsessing over Foyet, for the most part. He still reads the files when he has free time and he asks Penelope to add new perimeters to her searches, but other than that, he’s taken a bit of the weight off his shoulders to share with the rest of the team when the time comes.

Everyone knows they’ve just not filed the paperwork because it’s a hassle and Strauss, their section Chief would find some way to make it a problem. She’ll find out eventually, but until then, they’re just going with the flow, experiencing life together as a happy couple as long as they can.

He hasn’t told Haley yet, either. Seeing as she doesn’t want to admit that Conrad— her “friend” who’s always over during pick up and drop offs with Jack— is actually her boyfriend, they don’t have to tell her that they’re anything more than friends either. Jack likes Y/N, he holds her hand at the park and always asks if she can stay for a sleepover when he’s spending the night at his dad's. It’s the sweetest thing.

Every morning that they’re in Quantico, they meet at the round table at 10 am to prep new cases. They come in to work together at 8:30, holding hands while carrying coffee in their other. When they get up to Aaron’s office, JJ is in there with a file and an awkward, press-lipped smile on her face.

“What’s up?” He asks, letting go of her hand and walking over to his desk.

“Police in Bend, Oregon have asked for our help… this unsub is running people over with his car, there’s been two victims in the last 12 days,” she explains.

“Okay, I’ll look over the file and we’ll meet in the briefing room early today, tell the others 9:30 at the latest,” Hotch orders.

“Got it,” she picks up her things and starts to leave. She pats Y/N on the arm with a knowing smile, “See you out there.”

“You certainly will,” she smiles back at her. “Actually, I’m going to go help her photocopy everything and get ready, I’ll see you in there?”

“Okay,” Aaron nods. “Save me a seat.”

“Beside me as always,” she teases him one last time before heading out.

She’s so cute, he just shakes his head, watching from the window as she skips down a couple of steps and heads over to her desk. She says hi to Anderson and waves at a few people before following JJ up to the briefing room to make photocopies. He is so in love with her it makes him feel a little crazy. He has work to do, but his mind is stuck on her. He’s happy. At his desk. He's... happy?

For the first time in his life, he’s happy while at work.

And everyone knows it too. He’s staying at work less, still keeping up with his paperwork somehow, coming in a little later in the mornings, and he’s smiling more often. He’s heard the rumours and the mumblings, he knows people think he’s like this cause he’s getting laid again… but the truth is they haven’t.

He sleeps at her house, she sleeps at his, they sleep in the same bed on cases and they’ve come close to it before, but they haven’t had sex yet. Neither one of them has brought it up yet.

The first week they were together, they were busy on a case. The second week they had a pretty gross case and neither one of them was in the mood after it and then he had Jack all weekend. Then last week, she was on her period and he was happy to dote on her and give her a massage and cover her in kisses before sleeping beside her and holding her close but not too tight. He loves her so much, this relationship is so much more than just physical… he’s only had sex with 1 woman in his whole life, and even then, it took them over a year to do it because they were in high school.

This is just what he’s used to. He’ll be ready whenever she asks, he doesn’t need it… does he crave it? A little. She’s beautiful. He has to see her in action with her shirt rolled up and her bulletproof vest on. He sees her manhandle creeps and cuff them, sometimes even fight them a little. He listens to her give orders and put people in their place. Of course, he wants her. But he knows how to wait. He’s a patient man.

He has to shake all the thoughts out of his mind before he cracks open the case file. He takes another sip of his coffee and starts to read over the police report. He looks at the photos, the coroner's report, the witness statements and everything else JJ thought was important to include.

This is a weird one. He’s never seen a serial killer who favours vehicular homicide. Most of them want to do the killing themselves, they want to use their hands and feel the glory. This guy might not even be a guy. It could be a woman, using a vehicle might give her the power she lacks. The way they’ve been hit, backed over and hit again… that’s anger that comes from planning and a desire to kill. It’s unlikely that these are just victims of happenstance, this killer is calculated and these women that died were chosen for a reason.

He gathers all his things and meets the others in the briefing room, Derek, Spencer and Dave have yet to show up but they’ll be in soon. Right now, it’s just the girls.

“And then— oh, sorry, sir,” Penelope stops whatever she was saying as she sees him.

“On, no, it’s okay. You can keep talking… unless you don’t want me to know?” He hesitates to sit down, he’d leave if they needed him to.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighs. “Kevin is interviewing with the NSA for a new job and he can’t even tell me where he’s going if he gets it.”

“I’m sorry,” he feels terrible for her. Long distance sucks. But he sits down, ready to listen, wanting to be there for her and offer some wisdom if she wants it.

“I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen. What if he never comes home? What if I can’t talk to him? What if he breaks up with me right before he goes and then I never hear from him again? I’m not ready to just lose someone in my life permanently.”

“You’re Penelope Garcia,” he reminds her. “You can easily find out where he’s going… and you can easily stop transfers from going through, remember you held mine up so I could stay here?”

She nods, “I still feel sorry about that, sir, I didn’t mean to start things with you at home.”

“It’s okay, I’m much happier now,” he smiles over to Y/N. “I wouldn’t have my beautiful girlfriend if I still had a wife.”

“Very funny,” Y/N can’t believe he said that. She laughs and shakes her head, she licks her lips and laughs again. “You really just said that?”

“And I mean it,” he teases, reaching over for her hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses her hand, making the other two women swoon a bit.

“Hotch, I had no idea you were a romantic,” JJ teases him. “Were you always like this?”

He shrugs, “I was a teenager the last time I was in love like this.”

“In love?” They hear Derek's voice as he and Reid come through the door. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Y/N waves it off, trying desperately not to be the centre of attention. “We’re just talking about our relationships, anything you two want to share?”

“no—“ Derek starts but Spencer sits beside her and smiles.

“Derek’s never not been the sharing type and then he started dating me and now he’s like Fort Knox about it all,” Spencer teases.

“Hey,” Derek sits beside him and swats his arm. “It’s because I love you, you’re not some rando who came home with me once.”

“And what an honour that is,” Spencer teases again.

Derek’s just about to say something when they hear the whistling. Dave comes in with his coffee and the remnants of a lipstick stain on his cheek and sits down in the only empty spot left. “What’ve we got today?”

Everyone shares a few looks and knowing smiles, but Aaron answers. “A weird one in Bend, Oregon.”

“An unsub who kills with his car,” Y/N adds.

“They’ve had two victims in the last 12 days,” Hotch explains while they all open their files and have a look.

JJ stands, holding the remote for the projector, She starts to show them their victims. 23-year-old Maria Delgado was stuck while out on a jog and the second, a stranded motorist, Shannon Makely, 43.

“What makes the locals think that they were connected?” Derek asks.

“For one thing, they were both backed over after the initial impact,” JJ explains, showing them the photos again which makes Penelope shield her eyes.

“No accident there,” Dave grumbles, cheerful mood already gone.

“Plus, the treads found at both scenes match. Large vehicle, all-terrain,” Aaron adds but doesn’t cover all of it.

JJ moves to more photos on the screen, the ME report as well, “Wounds also indicate a raised bumper, so they’re thinking a large SUV or a truck.”

“Do they know the model or make?” Spencer asks.

She shakes her head, “Tyres aren’t factory issues. They could be on a number of different vehicles.”

“And no witness at either incident?” Y/N asks, flipping through the file, not finding anything.

“No, just the unlucky people who came across the bodies after it had already happened,” JJ sighs.

“A hit-and-run is loud, usually they draw attention. Somebody usually sees something,” Rossi says, posing the question they’re all thinking. How did no one see it happen?

“Both victims were attacked in secluded areas,” JJ explains further.

“Two tones of metal make a hell of a weapon,” Derek says with a shake of his head, disgusted by the lengths these killers go through.

“Serial killers have been known to become rather attached to their vehicles,” Spencer throws in. “Bittaker and Norris even gave theirs a nickname—

“murder Mack,” Rossi finishes for him.

“Bittaker and Norris were sexual sadists. There’s no sign of torture here,” Hotch reminds them.

“Sounds like a thrill kill?” Y/N proposes. “Opportunistic.”

“Easy targets, randomly selected,” Dave agrees.

“With this type of impact, vehicles shouldn’t be hard to pick out from a lineup,” Derek concludes.

“Yeah, there should be significant front-end damage,” Spencer backs him up.

“Somehow I don’t think this is gonna be that easy,” Dave says, closing his file.

“I contacted the pilot already, the jet is ready whenever we are,” JJ informs them, closing down the screen as they all get ready to go.

“Wheels up in 20.”

—

“I think it's safe to assume this unsub is a male,” Y/N says as soon as the conversation picks back up on the plane.

“I agree with you, given what we know,” Hotch nods, reading over the file again. “At first I thought maybe it could be a woman, using a car to feel powerful but with the amount of road rage and aggression we see in men, it’s less likely it would be a woman doing this.”

“It’s also just too messy,” Spencer adds for good measure.

“Exactly.”

“And men have an unnatural bond with their cars,” Y/N jokingly reminds everyone.

“That is true,” JJ gets it.

“Wait a minute, I don't know about unnatural?” Derek feels offended.

“I once dated a guy who washed his car more than he washed his hair,” JJ stares him down until he gives in.

“A nice car needs love,” Rossi pipes up. Derek points at him cause he gets it.

“And a woman doesn’t?” JJ just blinks, not believing what she’s hearing.

“I’m not qualified to answer that,” Rossi teases, making them all laugh.

“I’m just saying, big car… that’s phallic?” Y/N shrugs, looking at Aaron.

“So he’s compensating?” Aaron poses.

“Or overcompensating,” Spencer corrects.

“Impotent?” Derek suggests.

“Possibly, i-if the unsub sees himself as physically defective the car not only gives him the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield,” Spencer further explains.

“A way to avoid physical contact?” Hotch asks.

“Power and control,” Y/N starts to put the pieces together out loud. “Female victims… that almost reads like a rape profile.”

“Vehicular rape,” Rossi says, taken aback by the mere thought.

“Rape and thrill kill are two very different profiles,” Derek reminds them.

“What does victimology tell us?” Hotch asks.

“Nothing yet,” JJ shrugs, filling through the pages in her file but coming up short. “Shannon Makely was a white, married, 43-year-old commodities trader and Maria Delgado was a 23-year-old Hispanic graduate student and competitive triathlete.”

“So far gender is our only link,” Hotch agrees. “Hopefully the crime scenes will tell us more… when we get there, Morgan and Rossi you can go to the Makely crime scene. Y/N and I will go to Delgados and then Reid, you and JJ can hit up the ME and then head to the station to set up the boards.”

“Why do you two get to do everything together?” Spencer whines.

“Because you’re the doctor, you need to go and pick out shit the coroner missed and Derek is the best at retracing steps, no offence Rossi,” Y/N answers on Aaron’s behalf.

“None taken. Out of all of you, Derek reminds me the most of what me and Gideon were like in the beginning,” Dave gives him a small smile.

“He was a great teacher,” Derek says. “But it’s fine, we’re still partnered up in the hotels, right?”

“Yep,” JJ tries not to smile. “I’ve got you guys in a room with just one queen, down the hall from the rest of us, too.”

The rest of them smirk too, while Y/N and Aaron haven’t even bothered to get sexual yet, those two weren’t hiding anything. Between strange noises in the middle of the night and the rhythmic knocking of a bed frame on shared walls… it was pretty obvious that the good doctor and Derek Morgan were having a lot of fun together.

—

When they touch down, they separate into 3 SUVs on the tarmac and make their way from the small local airport 3 towns over all the way to Bend. Aaron and Y/N get a call from one of the local cops, Detective Feder, who is going to meet them at the jogging trail and walk them through everything. The main detective, Quinn, is with Rossi and Morgan at the most recent crime scene.

It’ll take them about 45 minutes to get there, though the winding country roads on this side of the country are nice, so it’s no big deal. The trees make for nice shade and the shade brings a cool breeze too, when just one state south they’d be in the disgusting heat of California. They have the windows down, the music on low, Aaron holds her hand as he drives and she looks out the window at the scenery. It’s a nice break from the horrors of their job.

When they arrive, the cop is leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting. He gives them a tight-lipped smile when they pull up, parking right behind him, they get out at the same time.

“Hey,” the cop waves. “Detective Feder, nice to meet you.”

He shakes Aarons hand first, “Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N.”

“Hi,” she smiles while shaking his hand. “Hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Nah, I just pulled up not 5 minutes ago,” he waves it off. “Follow me,” he says, leading them behind his squad car and towards the trail. “It’s not a very popular jogging area. There aren’t too many people who can take that hill coming up here.”

“Well, she was a triathlete,” Y/N reminds him.

“We figured she jogged in off the main road, headed for the trail up here,” he points to the side. When he gets to the bloody spot on the concrete he stops. “The assailant drove in behind her, and ran her down right here.”

“Uh… a woman jogging alone, no… she would’ve known if someone was tailing her,” Y/N states, speaking from a woman’s point of view, she knows what it's like to be on high alert at all times.

“So maybe he was already here?” Aaron proposes. Looking around, there’s a big red garbage bin that’s been dropped off and what looks to be construction equipment set up behind a fence. “What’s the story with all this equipment?”

“Construction stalled out months ago, no reason for anyone to be up here,” Feder explains.

Aaron keeps walking, behind the garbage bin, “it’s nice and quiet. It's the ideal spot to wait to run somebody down without being seen.”

“A little convenient,” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Too convenient,” Aaron agrees. “What if it was her? What if she were the reason he was up here?”

“You don’t think this was a random attack?” Y/N’s almost shocked to hear him say that.

He shakes his head and kneels down to look at the dirt, “oil,” he points, pressing his finger into the darkened wet patch and showing them. “He was lying in wait.”

“Shit,” Feder sighs, he can’t believe they missed these signs. “Okay. We should regroup at the station.”

“We’ll call our guys,” Y/N says, going to take out her phone. “On second thought… there’s no service.”

“Yeah most of the county has terrible service,” Feder shrugs. “I’ll radio it in for you, Quinn should get it.”

“Thanks," Aaron gives him a small smile and then motions with his head towards their car to get Y/N to follow.

—

“He may have specifically targeted these women,” Hotch proposes to the others as soon as he sits down at the table.

Y/N and JJ were off talking to family, Derek was on a coffee run, leaving him with the lead detective, Spencer and Dave.

“That takes thrill-kill off the table,” Rossi sits back, wanting to hear everything hotch learned at the first crime scene. Cause that’s how they worked best, going backwards.

“Because the murders were planned in advance?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer hesitates, looking at his board with everything he’s mapped out so far. “This type of stalking behaviour indicates a personal motive. There’s a reason he chose these victims.”

“So you think he knows them?” Quinn follows up, wanting to get a look inside the genius' brain. That’s exactly why he called them in for this with only two murders and not the typical 3 killings that would garner their attention.

“Well, he knew their work schedules, jogging routes, drive patterns,” Hotch points out.

“That would explain how he knew where to strike,” Spencer adds.

“Explains the Delgado girl, she was on a run, but he could’ve known Shannon Makely’s car was gonna break down out there?” Quinn says, having a hard time thinking outside the box, unlike the rest of them.

“Did you look at her car?” Rossi asks.

“Guys at impound said that it was a water pump that blew, said it’s a common enough problem,” Quinn explains.

“Maybe we should take a closer look?” Rossi suggests.

“Why don’t you head over there?” Aaron agrees, sending the best man for that job. Dave was a car guy, he had fixed up countless classics, and he’d know how to talk shop better than the rest of them. “Let me know what you find.”

Right as Dave starts to stand up, Y/N comes rushing over to the table, “Shannon Makely’s husband is here.”

Hotch had requested to talk to him when he arrived, he had questions to ask and hearing them from another man might make it go by easier. Whereas the mother of Maria Delgado would’ve done better with the girls, that’s why he had them speak to her first.

“Okay, thanks,” he starts to stand, “you want to join us?” He asks Detective Quinn.

He nods, standing with him. They all head into an office, Mr. Makely is already in there waiting for them, his eyes puffy and red, he’s been crying. Probably a lot. That was a given. Aaron’s not sure how he’d react if his wife— ex-wife died. Even after everything they’ve been through, he’d probably be devastated too.

“I just want it to make sense,” Mr. Makely cries. “But this…” he doesn’t know what to say.

“We may be able to make some sense of this with your help,” Y/N offers, her kindest voice on display. She hands him a photo of Maria Delgado. “Do you recognize that woman?”

He stares for a mere second and shakes his head. Gripping his water bottle like his life depended on it, “No. Should I?”

“She was the first victim,” Y/N explains. “We’re trying to determine if she was connected to your wife in some way.”

“Connected?” He asks, having a hard time processing everything.

“We think he may have been following them. Gathering information,” Aaron adds. “Did Shannon ever mention or notice anyone?”

“No…” his brows furrow as he thinks back as far as he can but his mind is clearly shadowed by grief.

“Did you ever notice anyone out of the ordinary in your neighbourhood?” She asks, watching him shake his head. “Maybe someone who was walking or driving by the house repeatedly?”

He keeps shaking his head, he really doesn’t think so.

“What about a truck? Or a large SUV?” Hotch asks.

His brows narrow then, his eyes wander back and forth as he puts some pieces together, “Thursday, I was expecting a package, I kept checking the street and there was a truck parked a couple of houses down. I didn’t recognize it.”

“Could you see anyone inside?” Aaron asks.

He shakes his head again, kicking himself, “I couldn’t tell, the windows were blacked out.”

“Tinted?” Aaron repeats in a different phrasing, looking to Y/N and then back to him.

“Yeah, only all the way around, like you see with limousines,” he explains better. He rubs his mouth then, trying his hardest to think back, he visibly hates himself for not remembering more.

Aaron gives him a moment and then asks one last question. “Do you think that you would recognize the truck if you saw it again?”

He sniffles and then clears his throat, pulling himself together, he nods, “Mhm, maybe?”

And so they get him pictures of trucks, makes and models, they print off so many pictures they have to bring in more paper. This is the most this department's printer has ever gone off, as it would seem.

Dave was back from the mechanic pretty soon thereafter, they were behind on things and asked him to come back in a few hours, meaning Aaron could go with him this time.

The mechanic working on the little red car pops the hood and brings them around to look, “we figured it was the water pump because it was pretty much melted but what we didn’t figure out on this—“ he pulls forward a piece of rubber tubing with a slit cut through it.

“This car's pretty new, that wouldn’t be normal wear and tear, would it?” Aaron asks.

“No, the rest of the lines in good condition,” he explains. “Someone punctured it. You can tell from the smooth edge.”

Aaron leans in to get a better look, “How did they do it?”

“Probably reached the blade right through the grill. Penknife, something like that,” he hypothesizes.

“Wouldn’t’ve even had to pop the hood,” Rossi tisks, shaking his head. Theres nothing he hasn’t seen. “And then she drove away without water in the radiator, it explains the overheating.”

“It explains the pump, too,” The mechanic adds.

“Could someone possibly gauge how far she could’ve travelled with a car in this condition?” Hotch asks one last question to chase his theory.

He presses his lips together and shrugs, “Someone who knows cars could make an educated guess, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Aaron reaches over to shake his hand, that’s everything he needed.

Dave does the same thing, shaking the man's hand before the two of them head off back towards their own car. “Sabotage. This guys more focused than we thought. Well organized, highly motivated.”

“By what though?” Aaron asks, still stuck on that part. “What do these women have in common?”

“Different ages, appearance, social status. He’s not hunting a specific type,” Dave recounts.

“Their only connection is the unsub. There has to have been contact before the attacks,” Hotch says, going back on what they’ve profiled before.

Rossi picks that us, “but we profiled a guy who would be afraid of contact? The trucks a shield.”

“Maybe the contacts are incidental. There’s something he perceives in their exchange. Something about his perception triggers his fixation,” Hotch explains. “Could be the way she looks at him, something she says, or even something as trivial as what she’s wearing… whatever it is, the victims have no idea what they’ve set in motion.”

—

Visiting the crime scenes, and talking with loved ones and the mechanic was really all they could do that day. The team goes out for dinner together around 6 and by 8 they’re all in their hotel rooms with nothing to do for 12 hours— or when another kill comes in.

Y/N and Aaron have a room with two beds, like always, one to sleep in together and one for all their bags to sit on. They change, they get into bed together and by 9pm they’re cuddled into each other and absolutely exhausted. It’s midnight back home, they’d normally still be up at this time but still, all the travel and the emotional toll of talking to victim's families has them pretty wiped out.

He loves this time of night, the way they cuddle and how she fits next to him like she’s the other half of his puzzle. They talk a little, about the case and also about nothing serious at all. He loves this part of the night, when they’re tucked away in some random bed in a random town in America… he never thought he’d have this.

He never imagined one day he wouldn’t be with Haley, and even if he did, he never thought he’d be happy without her. So much of his marriage with her was good, he loved coming home to a cuddle and a good night's sleep. But on the other end, he spent a lot of nights completely alone. He would cuddle his pillow and have terrible sleep only to wake up grumpy and keep searching for another psychopath.

Now, he gets to sleep beside his girlfriend whom he loves so much every single night, no matter where he is. Dating someone on his team was not something he thought would ever happen. He had no idea the joy that dating someone at work could bring him.

“I love you,” he whispers before kissing the back of her neck.

“I love you,” she replies, he can hear the smile on her face.

He holds her a bit tighter, snuggling in against her more, “This is so nice to get to sleep beside you on nights like this.”

“Oh, Aaron,” she has her hand over his, and she squeezes him lovingly.

“I mean it… after talking to Shannon Makely’s husband today, I’m just, I’m really glad I have you.”

She wiggles out of his grip and for a moment he fears that she doesn’t feel the same, instead, she turns to face him. Even in the dark, he can make out her features. He holds her close once more, chest to chest this time, and she smiles. She cups his face and leans in for a quick kiss.

“I feel the same… but I have a question?”

“Okay?”

“If something happened to you, would you want me to talk to Haley?” She asks. “And I’m not talking if you die, I mean, if you’re stabbed or shot or taken hostage, do you want me to talk to her or should that conversation come from Rossi or Strauss?”

“Oh,” he’s never thought about that. “I’d want you to tell her. I mean, she knows we're close so she probably expects it to be you… but if I ever do die on the job, I definitely want it to be you who talks to her. I want you to be the one to give them access to my apartment and make sure Jack gets all my things and that my funeral goes smoothly.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her breathing picks up and he can tell she’s trying hard not to cry. “Okay.”

He simply pulls her in closer and rests his cheek off the top of her head, “but that’s not going to happen.”

“I know.”

“And if it’s ever the other way around if it’s Haley who dies before me, I want you to be with me if I have to go through that. If Jack is still young enough to need to move in with me full-time, I’d want you to be around for that too. I know I’d be a mess if I lost her, and if Jack lost his mom, and that’s not because I’m still in love with her… I mean, I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. If I lost her it would be hard on us, but I’d want you to be there with me when things get hard.”

“Of course, I’d be there for you,” she assures him. “The same way I’d want you to come home with me if my parents passed away. She’s family. I know that. I’m never going to be jealous of her. I’d want to be there for Jack too. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mom as a kid, and I hope he never has to go through that. I’m praying that his mom is in his life for as long as possible and that maybe one day me and haley could even become friends. I want us to be a family, as unconventional as that may be, I love you enough to love everyone in your family, too.”

He wants to cry now too. When he got divorced he never ever, ever thought that he’d find someone who loves him and his family this way. He never thought his girlfriend would want to be close to his ex-wife. He never imagined a world where his son would have two strong and wonderful women to look up to but that’s what he found.

“I love you,” Aaron says before kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much.”

She kisses his neck where her head is tucked in, holding him as close as possible. “Sometimes I can’t believe this happened. Like, I thought you were cute when I started working with you and I knew you were married and I thought all Jack's photos on your desk were so sweet. I really just wanted to be your friend after the divorce. I never had a lot of girlfriends, I’m not super close to JJ or Penelope, so getting to know you was the first time I had a good friend in a long time.”

“Finding friends as an adult is hard,” he sympathizes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without our phone calls… I spent the first few months completely silent in my apartment all alone and then you filled my nights with laughter and smiles and I woke up the next morning excited to go to work. I didn’t even realize I was in love with you until it was almost too late.”

She smiles, “I only figured it out cause I got jealous in New York.”

“God, this last year has been absolutely insane,” he shakes his head. He got divorced, he fell in love and the only other woman he’s ever slept with in his life died. In his arms, too. It’s been such a traumatic year but Y/N made it liveable. She made it okay.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.”

—

They’re up and ready by 7, unable to sleep in that long when their body clock was off.

They all leave at different times, JJ left with Rossi just before Y/N and Aaron were done getting ready and texted that they left. Derek and Spencer were running a little late but that was usual. They had just enough time to get coffee at a local family-owned diner and they even get some breakfast sandwiches too, which were on the house as the owners were thankful the FBI was in town to help. It put an extra pep in their step that morning.

When they arrived at the station, Mr. Makely was already there, still looking through photos of vehicles from the day before but in a new outfit. He went home, didn’t sleep but came back changed to give the illusion that he did. He smelled like booze and the bags under his eyes were the same purple as the tie Aaron had on yesterday. So Arron heads over to the coffee maker, pours the man a cup and sets it down beside him with a smile.

This was going to be a long day.

By the time Derek and Spencer get in, Y/N and JJ have already gone through a box of information gathered on the first two victims. Where they grew up, who they went to school with, their family members, hospital records, speeding tickets, you name it and they’ve seen it. Nothing has added up yet.

Derek takes a seat by Mr. Makely, asking him how he’s doing and questioning him on what he’s able to remember thus far and Marley takes a couple images and lays them out. “These ones stick out.”

“All Ford models, similar grills like you described yesterday,” Derek nods along.

“I guess, they just didn’t have that emblem,” he points. “There was no hood ornament, nothing like that.”

“I understand how hard this must be, but it’ll really help us to know what the truck looks like,” Derek sympathizes. “Our tech girl can put in all these specifications into the system and narrow down who drives this model, she can even go further and track down who’s bought grills and had them shipped to Bend recently.”

“I’ll keep looking,” he assures Derek with a smile.

Derek pats his shoulder and then joins the team at the round table. “How’s it going?” Aaron asks.

“Well, we're down to an older model, black, American-made. Sounds like he de-badged the trucks so nobody could ID him,” Derek explains.

“I can start a list from the DMV matching what we know?” Quinn offers.

“That’s gonna kill a lot of trees up in these parts,” Derek makes a joke, even in times like these he still found a way.

“The trucks only gonna get us so far,” Hotch agrees. “What we need to do is build on the profile.”

“Well he’s mechanically inclined,” Reid throws in. “He certainly knows his way around an engine block.”

“And he can pull a dent too,” Y/N suggests. “If he’s fixing the body damage to his truck himself.”

“Both victims were killed during prime office hours which means he has a flexible work schedule,” Aaron adds.

“Or he might not be working at all? Uh, stalking someone, getting to know their schedule that’s some pretty serious time commitment,” Reid reminds them all.

“8% of the states out of work,” Quinn shares.

“Job loss is a classic stressor,” Derek says for good measure.

“It’s a start,” Hotch sighs. “Look for men who are employed as mechanics, body shops, and look for those with criminal records. Reckless driving, assault…”

“Two murders in 2 weeks, that’s not much of a cooling-off period,” Y/N says.

“He’s not going to wait for another opportunity to present itself,” Hotch agrees.

“No, he’ll create one,” Reid adds, knowing the odds.

—

The call comes in just after 5 p.m., in the middle of shift change. There was another murder, in the parking garage of the local hospital this time. Aaron heads out with Y/N Rossi and Reid, leaving Derek with Mr. Makely and JJ to contact the family once they know more.

When they get there it's a gruesome sight. He was hit in front of the elevator, almost pancaked between the grill of the truck and the metal doors.

“Impact nearly cut him in two,” Quinn says, closing back up the body bag that the coroner had placed the victim in. “His name is Victor Costella. Pediatrist. He works in the building.”

“A male victim?” Y/N can’t believe it.

“There goes the vehicular rape theory,” Rossi says with a sigh, this case was starting to piss him off.

“He ran down from the level above trying to get away,” Quinn explains.

“So the initial collision was up there?” Rossi points. Quinn nods, “Let's go see it.”

They leave the victim where he is and walk up the roundabout ramp towards where he was originally parked. A few cars got caught in the scuffle, and crime scene detectives are already up there taking photos and documenting everything.

“That’s the victims car?” Reid points at the red coop.

“Yeah, why?” Quinn asks, not seeing why it’s important.

“Hold on just a moment,” Reid says, taking his phone from his pocket. “Garcia, I need you to look into something.”

They all knew what that meant. They were about to have a crack in this case and hopefully one big enough to blow it wide open.

“It’s a reserved spot,” Aaron points at the wall, the sign is screwed into the concrete wall with Dr. Costella written on it. Rusty and faded, he’s been at this practice a long time.

“The unsub knew where he was going to park, must’ve gotten here early and picked a spot right across from him,” Rossi explains, turning to look at the other parking spots.

“Somebody might’ve seen him waiting,” Y/N says, hopeful to talk to an eyewitness.

“Somebody did,” Detective Feder says, showing up from the lower level and surprising them with his presence. “I talked to an X-ray tech on the third floor, she noticed the truck when she arrived.

“And he was inside it?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah but she couldn’t see him because of the tint,” he explains.

“So how did she know he was inside the truck?” Aaron asks.

“She said the window was cracked, the occupant was smoking,” he explains further.

Rossi perks right up, “I don’t suppose your people found any cigarette butts?”

Feder looks as though he didn’t even think to look, causing Rossi to head over to the vacant spot across from Costella’s and start to look. “What time did the tech get in?” Rossi asks.

“10 am,” Feder answers.

“7 hours… a proper addict could kill a while pack in that time,” Rossi mutters to himself, squatting down with his pen in hand, he pushes around a couple balled up, yellow, pieces of paper. “Did you ever smoke?” He asks the group.

“I used to do a lot of things,” Y/N answers, honestly.

“I bet you never did this,” he taps the ground.

“He field stripped it,” Aaron notices.

“What is that?” Y/N asks, having not heard the term before, or at least not remembering what it meant.

“Something they teach soldiers to avoid leaving traces in the field,” Quinn explains.

“They squeeze out the filter and then ball up the surrounding paper,” Rossi gives a more detailed explanation.

“Okay so our guy could be ex-military?” Y/N proposes.

Feder takes out some tweezers and an evidence bag, “I’ll get some DNA on this. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s in our system.”

“If he’s military, why would he choose a truck as his weapon?” Quinn asks.

“Maybe he drove a tank?” Feder shrugs.

“That’s a good question,” Rossi assures Quinn, ignoring Feder. “Using a vehicle on the open road is one thing, but this is close quarters.”

“Yeah, the truck is loud and draws attention. Plus he risked rendering in inoperable,” Y/N adds.

“That doesn’t make any sense?” Quinn is a ball of confusion now. Shaking his head, he just wants this to be over with. He wants answers now. He’s not used to the chase in a small town like this.

“It makes sense to him. He needs to kill this way,” Aaron says and then takes a deep breath, dropping his shoulders, he places his hand on Quinn's arm. “We’ll figure out why.”

Reid comes running up the ramp then. Rounding the corner, he’s out of breath already but he has news. “Guys!” They all turn to him. “I think I figured out what connects these victims.”

He explains it once on their walk back to the SUV and then again at the station, filling in JJ and Derek this time as well. “All the victims drove red, two-door coupes.”

“Don’t you think that could be a coincidence?” Quinn asked, not fully sold.

“It’s statistically significant,” Spencer says, sassy as ever in his own Spencer way.

“We haven’t been able to find any other common denominators,” JJ adds.

“if the unsub is targeting people because of their cars, then his initial contact with them would’ve been on the road,” Hotch explains in a way Quinn would better understand.

“Exactly,” Spencer nods, giving him a small smile to say thank you.

“I spoke to the families about the victim's daily car travel— how they got to work, the gym,” JJ points to the board, showing the different coloured pins for the different victims and the routes they took.

“There’s one road all the victims had in common,” Spencer points out.

Three pins are along one highway. The same highway Shannon Makely was murdered on.

“Route seven.” Quinn knows all too well what that road is like and they can tell by the look on his face.

“That means something to you?” Hotch asks, staring him down, he’s talked to the man enough to know whatever he was about to say wasn’t good news.

“Maybe we should take a drive.”

—

It doesn’t take long to drive out there, maybe 20 minutes? Quinn pulls over onto the side of the road and puts his safety blinkers on. They get out together and he walks them over to the side of the cliff. There’s about a 200-meter drop from where they are standing down to a clearing of trees.

Spencer gets close to the edge, looking down while Aaron stays back further. He’s not terrified of heights but he knew what was good for him.

“Anyone living outside bend who commutes toward Eugene, uses Route 7. It’s the most dangerous stretch of highway in the state,” Quinn explains. “They call it suicide seven.”

Along the roadside there are white crosses, the kind you see on the side of the road in the middle of no where to mark where an accident took place. Either drunk driving or mechanical trouble, swerving into the wrong lane after not enough sleep or black ice in the middle of winter that sends you spinning out… there’s way too many in this little section of highway for them not to find it suspicious.

“These crosses represent accidents?” Spencer asks, filling in the blanks in his building theory.

“Fatalities. The fire chief put them up to remind drivers to be careful,” Quinn explains, monotoned and expressionless.

Aaron could tell he hated this part of the job. He would too.

“Two lanes, no dividers, I’m assuming there’s a lot of head-on collisions?”

“Either that or they go off the side,” Quinn says, letting out a deep breath and walking away from the edge.

“Reid you mentioned the possibility of a physical limitation, something that kept the unsub from attacking in a traditional way?” Aaron asks him.

“I was talking about impotence but we ruled out sexual motivation,” he reminds him.

“What if he’d been involved in a crash?”

“On this road…” Spencer starts to nod, putting more pieces together, Aaron could tell it was starting to make sense to not just himself now. “If the unsub is disabled it explains why he uses a truck— it gives him power, mobility…”

“But what?” Aaron asks, wanting him to explain everything going on inside his genius mind.

“The idea that he’s avenging his own physical suffering speaks to a victim mentality that’s inconsistent with the profile,” Spencer explains, puzzled by this piece.

He thinks back to the conversation he had last night with Y/N. How he’d want her by his side if someone important to him died. He didn’t bring it up then, but if he ever lost her. If Y/N ever died… he’d never be okay again. He never once understood why these men were able to kill so easily and then he fell in love again. Harder than ever before. He would kill for her if he had to.

“Then maybe it’s not just about his own suffering,” Aaron hypothesizes. “What if he got hurt in an accident that took a loved one? His wife or child, or both?”

“We’ve had a few cases like that on this highway,” Quinn nods, “I can get the guys back at the station to start pulling files of men who survived while their family didn’t.”

“Broaden that to women and children who died with husbands who weren’t in the car,” Spencer asks. “He could also have been disabled in combat and come home to his family dead, I doubt it but it's still good to add to the search.”

“Good idea,” Aaron agrees.

When they get in the car this time, he feels a little less easy. Turning around, doing a U-turn on this scary patch of road, it made his stomach uneasy. He was never good at being in the car when someone else was driving. He’s old enough now to know a life of having his licence longer than being without it. He hated giving that control away, unless it was with Y/N or Dave and even Derek.

—

When they get back they have just an hour to prep the final profile and before they get in front of the station and local reporters, Aaron pulls Y/N aside. He steals a hug and a kiss from her.

“What was that for?”

“Cause I can,” he says, just holding her closer. He rubs his hand up and down her back. “I love you.”

“You can love me all you want once we catch this guy,” she teases as she pulls away. “Come on, we’ve got a profile to give.”

He knows she’s right, he shouldn’t be doing this here, in a random back corner of the office where no one can see them. He should be prepping with the others, but he couldn’t help it.

He follows her back towards the others, his smile fades and he puts his stern and serious look back on. It was hard being happy and in love while around such horrible things all the time, but he found a way to make it work. When they get back to the table, the whole station has gathered and a few reporters from the next town over are there too, waiting and ready for the team to start talking.

“As we speak, this profile and a description of the unsubs truck are being released to state and national media,” Aaron explains, standing with the others in front of the crowd.

“In addition to what we already know, we believe the unsub is ex-military, most likely army or marines,” Spencer speaks next.

Y/N takes a half step forward, “We also believe he’s physically handicapped.”

“Form combat?” One of the officers asks.

Aaron shakes his head, “most likely from an automobile accident.”

“An accident that may have occurred along route 7, where the unsub finds his victims,” Y/N adds.

“And that has something to do with why he’s going after red coupes,” Quinn says, sitting with the rest of his station but still in the loop more than the others.

“We believe that he holds the driver of a comparable vehicle responsible for his accident,” Spencer explains further.

“And this person is the object of his rage, but unable to confront them, he’s taking revenge against a surrogate,” Aaron makes it absolutely clear that these victims didn’t hurt the unsub first, they just remind him of the person who did.

“These boxes contain accident reports uh, from a strip of route 7 between Bend and Eugene. There’s about 5 years worth, we’re going to need everyone you can spare to comb through them,” Y/N says, taking the lid off of one of the boxes.

“We’ve also compiled a list of local rehabilitation facilities where the unsub may have gone to recover. Use the profile as you canvas these places,” Spencer adds.

“Remember we’re looking for a white male in his early 40s, former military who may have sustained serious injury in a car accident,” Aaron makes the final summary and then disburse.

He reaches for the TV remote and then, turns it up to hear JJ on the local news giving the same report.

“Though only owners of red coupes have been targeted, at this point, we’re asking all the driving public to be vigilant on the road. If you know anyone who fits this description please contact the Bend Police Department immediately. Thank you.”

While JJ is on the news, Derek and Dave have split off two canvases a few different facilities and ask questions. Y/N is about to leave to hit up a few more with Agent Feder, which leaves Aaron with Spencer to go over everything else and wait for calls. So far nothing serious has come from the lines, mainly people saying they’ve seen reckless red coupes on that road or saying their neighbour has that kind of car, but nothing substantial.

When JJ comes back she weeds through the emails from the news station, some people have contacted the news instead of the police because they want their 5 seconds of fame if they got the suspect right. So far almost everyone just knows someone with a black truck, nothing about a disabled man or even licence plate numbers to back their theories up.

And then they get a walk-in.

“Hotch,” JJ comes over to hear him. “This guy walked in, his name is Gil Bonner.”

“What’s his story?” He asks.

“It’s about the unsubs accident he says it’s his fault,” she says, scratching the back of her head and looking as though she doesn’t know if she can believe him or not.

Aaron stands right up and follows her over to the man with Spencer in tow, he shakes his hand and introduces himself as the head of the investigation, making him follow them into another room to talk privately. “Tell us the story from the beginning.”

He sits down and stares at the wall for a moment. “It was late and I had spent all day in Eugene with my mom, she’d been sick… I should’ve been driving, but I just wanted to get home to see my little girl. And it was darker than usual. I remember the moon, it was just a sliver. Right outside the Cascades, my phone started vibrating. When I went to reach for it, I knocked it off the far side of the seat and it fell down by the door and I thought I could reach.”

He gets teary-eyed explaining it all, he can’t meet their eyes for worry they’d look at him like a monster. He’s so filled with shame, he’s been holding this story in for such a long time that recalls it like a folktale.

“You took your eyes off the road,” JJ says in the most sympathetic tone, talking to him like a teacher or a friend. Trying to make sure he can trust them.

“It could’ve been for more than a few seconds, but when I looked back up there were lights and this horn was blaring and I swerved at the last second and I just… kept on going,” he explains. “Without a scratch?”

“You’d gone into the oncoming lane?” Hotch asks, trying to better understand.

The man just nods.

“What happened to the other vehicle?” Spencer asks.

“That’s the thing,” he whispers, brows furrowed, he’s trying his hardest to think back to the exact things that happened that night but the sleep deprivation from that night and the time that’s passed make it hard. “It was in my rearview mirror and then it was gone. Vanished!”

“Why didn’t you stop?” Aaron asks, there is no way he wouldn’t stop if this was him.

“It didn’t seem real,” he explains, still not able to look at him.

“You’re saying you just pretended it didn’t happen?” JJ asks.

“I guess if you tell yourself something for long enough… You can make anything true,” he says, trying his best not to break down. The guilt is eating him alive.

“Well you’re here now,” Aaron assures him that it’ll be okay. “Tell us about the other vehicle.”

“It was the truck you’re looking for.”

“How do you know that?” Aaron needs him to be as sure as possible.

“When I saw the news… it all made sense,” he explains. “It’s come back for revenge.”

They all look at each other, concerned for this man. He’s speaking as if the truck is a ghost and it’s looking for him not that there's a killer out there using this accident as a reason to kill.

“When did the accident happen?” JJ asks, bringing him back to the real issue.

“December ’07,” he spits right back, knowing it exactly. “The second Saturday.”

Spencer quickly reads over the report in his hand, “There were no accidents reported in December of 2007.”

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Thats— no??”

“Maybe you have your dates wrong?” Aaron sympathizes, it was a long time ago and he was under stress. Dates blur in times like these.

“Could’ve been November?”

“Uh, memories are kinda like puzzle pieces,” Spencer explains. “And it’s-it’s quite possible that in suppressing these for so long, you’ve sort of rearranged things?”

He breaks down then, shaking his head.

“How long was your mother sick?” Aaron asks, maybe this will get them closer to the real date.

“5 months,” he knows that for a fact. When it comes to sick relatives, to losing a loved one, you don’t forget that. “She… she died in January. That much I know.”

They let him stay in the room to calm down as long as he needs to but Aaron and Spencer leave. They head back to the table silently and then they both sigh as they take their seats.

“I feel bad for the guy,” Spencer shares.

Aaron nods, “I remember when my mother died, she was sick for a few years before. I remember it like it was yesterday… hopefully JJ and Garcia can pull some hospital records and we can pinpoint when the moon was like that in the later months of 2007.”

“Maybe the others will come back with something from the rehab facilities that we can cross references with him,” Spencer agrees.

“I hope they come back soon,” Aaron says with his small voice.

“It’s strange you know? We’ve been a team for years and I’ve been beside Derek almost every day since the start and now when he’s partnered off doing something without me, it feels like I haven’t seen him in ages,” Spencer sympathizes with him.

“It is weird,” Aaron agrees. “But it’s also nice loving someone so much that a few minutes apart makes you miss them.”

He nods, trying not to smile too big, “I’m glad she finally told you, I’ve been waiting for you guys to get together for a year.”

“I’ve been expecting you and Morgan to get together since 2005,” he teases back.

“Why?”

“Because he’s always been into you, from the moment you started he was fascinated in you and you just never picked up on it because his flirting comes off as teasing,” Aaron explains. “Y/N was telling me that when we went to Chicago to help him after he was arrested, you were at his mother's house and she said he always talked about you to them. He’s been in love with you a lot longer than you think.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens. “I had no idea.”

He laughs, “we know.”

“I knew Y/N was into you when we were at the cemetery, right after New York,” he explains. “I have never seen someone yell at you like that.”

“I know,” he just shakes his head with a smile. “It was a shock for me too.”

JJ comes rushing from the room then, “Hey, I called Y/N and told her about the crash happening between September ’07 and January ’08, she’s with Derek right now at one of the facilities. Feder got called to another issue somewhere else, but they think they found someone who fits the profile. They’re on their way back now.”

“Sounds good.”

—

When Y/N and Derek get back they take a seat at the table beside their partners and get Penelope on the line. She’s able to send them over details on this guy from the rehab centre, Ian Coakley and Reid pulls the information about said crash from one of the boxes Y/N brought out earlier that day.

“Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley, going eastbound on Route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road, and flipped numerous times. No witnesses,” Spencer recounts before laying the file on the table for the others to see.

“His wife was riding in the passenger seat, she died at the scene,” Y/N adds, heartbroken for them.

“Coakley survived,” Aaron read from the file. “Paramedics indicated spinal cord injury.”

“He fractured his T6 and T7 vertebrae,” Morgan says with a sigh, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat.

“Paraplegic,” Aaron nods along.

“That’s not all, he’s a former light-wheel mechanic in the Army National Guard,” Spencer adds.

“Did it say anything about a red car?” Quinn asks.

“No. It says Coakley suffered memory loss after the accident,” Aaron reads from the file.

“Short-term retrograde amnesia is common after a serious accident,” Spencer confirms.

“I think it’s safe to say he remembers now,” Rossi shakes his head.

“Do we have an address?” Aaron asks, wanting to go forward with an arrest.

“I’m working on it,” Penelope says from the office phone which has been on speaker the whole time. “Okay, the house Coakley and his wife bought was foreclosed on 10 months after the accident.”

“Well, there’s gotta be a paper trail then?” Spencer jumps the gun.

“Yeah and that trail leads to a land called nowhere,” Penelope spits back. Typing away. “He cashed some insurance cheques during his stay at Adelman's house but after he left... Zilch."

“Any relatives he could be staying with?” Aaron asks.

“No, I tried that,” Garcia explains. “There’s no family in the area. My exquisitely educated guess is he’s either squatting or subletting with cash.”

“What about his truck?” Rossi asks.

“He owns a ’79 Dodge D100, he bought it used 10 years ago,” she explains.

“he’s had to rebuild it several times now, parts can’t be easy to find for a truck that old,” Rossi reminds her. She’s found more people with less before.

“I smell what you’re cooking agent… Checking auto suppliers in Bend… yeah! Rossi gets a fruit cup with lunch. He’s having the parts drop-shipped through Sid’s Auto and sent directly to an address in southwest Bend,” Penelope explains in her ever-Penelope way.

“Send us the exact address, let’s gear up,” Hotch says as he starts to stand up. “We’ve got two options, either he’s there or he’s out stalking his next victim, I want the crime scene to be there to search the house regardless of if he’s there and if he isn’t I need unmarked cars canvassed in the surrounding areas so he doesn’t get spooked if he comes back and sees sirens and officers. We’re getting this guy. Today.”

“I’ve sent it to your phones and the fax machine there at the station,” Penelope explains. “I’ve also emailed the information to the local judge, we should have a warrant ready in the next half hour.”

“You’re a godsend, Penelope,” Derek reminds her.

“I know. Be safe, come home to me!”

“We always do!” Y/N smiles before hitting the end call button and joining the others in getting ready.

—

Derek is the first one inside, like always, he’s followed by Rossi, then Hotch, Quinn and finally Y/N and a few cops. They clear each room, his garage and his backyard, he’s not there. Just like Aaron suspected.

“His truck is gone,” Derek says as he comes back in from the garage.

“Get all the vehicles off the street and start a perimeter,” Rossi orders to the other officers. “If he comes back this way we’ll want to be ready for him.”

“On it,” they all scatter like flies, leaving the house just as the crime scene unit comes in with Reid and JJ.

“Rossi,” Derek gets his attention, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

Rossi follows him out into the garage leaving Y/N and Aaron in Coakley’s kitchen. “I want you guys to search everything, find me any clues as to who he’s going to be getting next, Quinn and I are going to be driving around Route 7 and the reservoir looking for him. Radios work better than phones up here,” he hands Y/N a walkie and then another to JJ and Reid. “Give this one to Dave and Morgan, Call me if you hear anything.”

“You bet,” JJ gives him a smile and starts getting to work.

“Hey,” Y/N stops him before he heads out. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

They head out then, Hotch drives this time with Quinn in the driver's seat. He’s a quiet man, he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and he could do without small talk. Aaron liked that about him. So far they’ve only talked about the case and similar ones like it, he’s asked questions about if they’ve seen anything like this before and about the other team members but that’s about it.

So needless to say, he’s shocked when he brings up Y/N.

“You two been together long?” He asks.

“Hm? Oh, me and Agent Y/L/N? A while now, yeah,” he tries not to smile.

“She’s nice, smart too,” he compliments.

Aaron just nods, “She’s amazing.”

They’re quiet again for a while, the radio on low and Quinn hums along. He looks out the window and points out every black truck they see but none of them have the License plate they’re looking for, but they know he’s out there.

They get a radio in from Morgan about 15 minutes into the drive, Coakley had photos of previous vics and one man they haven’t seen before. Garcia traced his licence plate and Derek took Y/N over to the guy's house to ask where he is. He’s on a bike ride, headed towards the reservoir. They have this man's bike path mapped out and are chasing him.

“Hotch, we’re on Route 26 heading towards the reservoir, I think we’re about halfway around the loop. So far, no sign of him,” Y/N radios through.

“Copy that. We’re headed southbound on 20. Hopefully, we can hit route 26 before they fly by,” Aaron radios back.

He speeds up, zooming along the old country roads, dust flying behind his tires. He’s careful around the edges, hyper-vigilant that this is a scary road and he’s not the only one on it.

The next radio in is from JJ. “Hotch, you know how Coakley was driving his wife’s car on the night of the accident?”

“I remember.”

“It was a red coupe,” she explains.

“Are you sure?” He can’t believe it.

“We have pictures,” she says, completely positive.

Hotch looks at Quinn carefully and then back to the road, Quinn holds his own radio to his mouth, “What does it mean?” He asks.

“Maybe there was no other car on the road?” JJ hypothesizes.

“Think about it, the make and model of his target car keeps changing,” Y/N chirps in from her end.

“Like he knows they aren’t right,” Hotch adds.

“And his doctor at the rehab facility called it fluid memory but what if it was more than that?”

“So if it’s a single car accident—

“It was Coakley's fault,” Y/N cuts off Quinn. “He was driving back from Napa Valley that night. That’s a long drive.”

“Fell asleep at the wheel,” Quinn can fill in the blanks himself. He’s heard it all before. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“The guilt of that would be overwhelming. The truth, almost impossible to take,” Y/N adds.

“So he’s projecting blame?” Aaron asks, corroborating his theory.

“A red coupe did cause the accident, and he was driving it,” Y/N assures him he’s right.

They reach route 26 then, tyres squeal as he takes a turn and then he gets right back up to speed. Aaron follows the winding path and from his elevation, he can see the truck chasing a group of bikers as they come up the hill. There’s an intersection coming up, the bikers are already heading through it as Aaron goes even faster, hitting 120mph now, he’s going to meet Coakley at the intersection.

“HANG ON!”

Aaron smacks right into the front end of Coakley’s truck as the bikers get away without a scratch. The airbags deployed, they get ditched and the ringing in his ears comes back. He can’t move from his seat, he can barely open both eyes, and he knows he’ll be diagnosed with a concussion as soon as he’s seen by someone but he doesn’t care.

By the time he’s able to get out of the vehicle, it’s too late. The truck has backed up and he’s about to head off after the bikers once more. But Quinn draws his weapon and starts to talk to him anyway.

“You can’t blame other people for what you’ve done Coakley!”

That’s not going to work.

“Detective!” Aaron yells from his seat.

“You know the truth! No one else needs to die,” he continues.

“It’s not going to help!” Aaron tries to get him to stop.

“There was no other red car, was there?” He finally says, making Coakley snap back into reality.

These cases end in 1 of two ways. Either kill themselves or get the cops to do it for them.

Aaron unclips his seatbelt and starts trying to get out but there’s too much damage to the front end of the SUV. His door won’t budge. Coakley is starting his truck back up and he’s about to get away so he pushes harder on the door. It pops open just as Coakely speeds off.

Y/N, riding with Derek, sees Aaron leaning against the SUV and the blood on his face. She jumps out of the car before it even comes to a halt while Aaron shouts, “Go! Go!!” Making Derek keep chasing him.

“Aaron Hotchner!” She scolds him, “What the fuck was that?”

“Oh, don’t start with me,” he waves her off, heading back to the crashed SUV to talk to Detective Quinn.

“You do this all the time!” She yells at him, following him over. “You put yourself in harm's way and you get hurt and then you get pissy that you can’t go back to work right away. Maybe if you stopped putting yourself in the middle of shit—

He turns back to her in the middle of her rant, “I get it! I’m an idiot! But at least those bikers are still alive!”

“Thank god for that!” She yells right back. “It's not like we need you to stay alive too.”

“What is your problem? I’m clearly alive right now?!”

“This time.” That’s all she says. She turns around and starts walking away, up the hill and towards where Derek and all the cops drove.

She makes him feel bad, but at the same time, he’d do it again. His job isn’t to protect and serve, it’s to profile and track down killers. That’s it. He should know that by now… but it doesn’t stick. He’s never been just a normal cop, Derek has, so his instincts aren’t always questioned. It’s ingrained in him. The team brushes it off and sometimes Aaron has to give him a talk.

No one ever gives Aaron the talk. Except Strauss, sometimes she gets on his ass but it’s never got a good reason.

Having someone he loves so much, who loves Him so much, yell at him… that’s new. And he doesn’t like it.

—

Y/N has her own room key, she leaves the precinct before the others and heads to their room so that she doesn’t have to talk to Aaron or see him anymore. She’s still so mad at him. He knows it too.

He arrives at the hotel later on, slowly but surely, he shows up after she’s already changed and sitting in the middle of her own bed. Making it clear to him that he can have the other. She’s in the one furthest from the door, on what is usually his side so that she’s extra far away from him when he gets in.

“Hey,” he says with his safest voice, watching as she simply raises her brows to acknowledge him and then goes back to her book. She sighs, a huff of air leaves her nose and she’s biting her tongue, She clearly wants to say something but doesn’t.

He drops his bags on the floor, kicks off his shoes, tosses his suit jacket onto the free bed and slowly makes his way over to her bed, sitting on the edge with his ankle locked under his other knee. He cocks his head to the side and stares softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I just get so caught up with these guys that I forget that you’re right behind me and you’re watching and everything I do has consequences that you have to deal with, too,” he explains, trying to be as genuine as humanly possible. He wants her to believe him.

“Did you at least get it checked out?” She asks, softening a bit.

He nods and points to the bandage on his forehead, “No concussion and my ear is okay. My chest might bruise up from the seatbelt and this little cut will heal in a day or two, but other than that, I’m okay.”

She nods then too, getting a little choked up. “I can’t lose you. I just got you. I never thought it would happen, Aaron. I thought you loved your ex-wife still and my little crush would end up suffocating me until I moved units. I didn’t think you’d ever love me back and to see you get hurt again after everything we’ve gone through just triggered me a little.”

“It’s okay,” he quickly gets up and sits closer to her, pulling her in for a hug. He rubs her back and kisses the top of her head. “I love you so much I’m never going anywhere. I’m not saying I won’t get hurt again, I can’t see the future, but I’m going to try and stop putting myself in the middle of things.”

“You promise?” She whispers, tossing the blanket away so she can crawl into his lap. She cups his face as she sits down on him. “Please?”

He nods, “I promise, sweetheart. I’m not going to put myself in the middle of this shit anymore.”

“So we won’t have screaming matches in the middle of the woods anymore?” She teases.

He smirks, “Not unless you want to.”

She manages to laugh, dragging her hands down to his tie, she starts to undo it. “I mean… it was pretty hot. I like when you’re angry, every time I’ve seen you put someone in their place I get a little hot and bothered, so it was strange having you yell at me for a change.”

“When you yelled at me that first time, in the cemetery,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “I had to go back to the car because being a little high and in pain… and then getting yelled at like that…”

“Seriously?” Her jaw drops and she looks at him like she’s starving.

He nods again, “You’re hot when you’re in charge.”

She just smirks, pulling his tie off, and she keeps unbuttoning his shirt. She pulls it out of his suit pants, finishes off the buttons, and then runs her hands over his chest. Through the sprinkling of chest hair, she feels him up, “I thought our first time would be more slow and sweet and cute… but now I want to get all bossy and make you fuck the shit out of me.”

“Make me?” He chuckles, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she teases. She leans in and kisses his cheek, “I think,” and then his jaw, “You should,” and down his neck, “fuck me,” her kisses go lower, “‘n show me how sorry you are.”

Her hands now roaming around to his back, over his hips and over his bulge. He basks in it, already getting hard underneath her from just the memory of her wrath. She keeps kissing down his chest until he cups her face and brings her in to kiss her on the lips. He’s kissed her a million times by now but it’s still so exciting. The way she melts against him, the feeling of her tongue against his, the way she slightly whines when his hand starts to move down to her neck and his thumb caress her jaw.

“Mm,” she mumbles as she pulls away. “Can we—“ he steals another few kisses. “Too many—“ more kisses. “Clothes. Need you.”

He lets her pull back enough just to look at him, both catching their breaths, “You have me.”

She reaches for the hem of her shirt and he stops her, taking it in his grip instead he begins to lift it over her head. Arms in the air, he gets it up as much as he can from this sitting position and they laugh when she gets trapped inside her shirt and has to help him pull it all the way off. She tosses it to the side and then rests her hands back on his chest, gently running her fingertips down to his belly button, she starts to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops.

He kisses her again and again and again until she starts to grind against him, wanting more. He cradles her body and carefully starts to sit up on his knees, laying her back down against the mattress. He hovers over her and kisses her jaw and down her neck, trailing his hands down her sides until he reaches her shorts and he pulls back just so he can get them off her.

She helps him get them off and sits up on her own knees to kiss him while she pushes his shirt off his shoulders. He blindly flings it to the floor and she reaches down to unbutton his suit pants and reach her hand in there. Between his pants and his boxers, she cups his length and starts to rub. His hands land on her shoulders, smoothing down the warm skin of her back he pulls her in flush against him and slightly moans into her mouth. Her free hand comes up to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him as close as possible.

She smiles into the kiss, he simply bites her lip as he pulls away. He takes a peak between their bodies to see her boobs pressed against his chest, “you gonna let me go so I can take these pants off?”

She leans in and steals another kiss, “Mmm, maybe,” she kisses him again and again. “Just hurry up about it.”

He’s quick to get off the bed and push both his pants and his underwear off, he even pulls off his socks and leaves them all behind in the pile of discarded things. She’s sat there, leaning back with her hands flat on the mattress, she looks him up and down and then her eyes stay fixed on his cock.

“Like what you see?” He teases her, he grips her ankles and tugs her to the edge of the bed.

She’s a bit shocked, laughing it off, she grips his sides and stares up at him, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He hauls her to her feet, cups her cheeks and he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she smiles back. “Are you nervous?”

He nods, “Just a little. It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve had sex…”

“We’ll its been a lot longer than that for me and I’m almost positive that sex hasn’t changed that much in that time,” she teases. “I love you and I trust you, so I know it’ll be good.”

He kisses her once quickly, “just good?” He kisses her again, the side of her mouth this time. He starts to kiss down her neck, over her collarbones and he cups her boobs so he can smother them in kisses too. Eventually starts to kneel, taking his kisses lower, he starts to take her panties off, kissing her lower stomach and then he looks up at her. “Sit down, let me show you how good I can be.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, he spreads her legs and kisses from her left knee all the way down her thigh and then her lower lips. He spreads them with his fingers and licks a stripe over her cunt, making her gasp as she reaches out to grip his hair at the root.

She holds back her pretty little noises, and as much as he wants to tell her to go wild, he knows JJ is just past that wall in her own room. From all the teasing Derek and Spencer get, she wasn’t going to be loud enough to be added to the relentless jokes her coworkers make.

He teases her hole with his middle finger, feeling how wet she already is, he circles around the opening a few times before plunging his finger inside.

“Fuck,” he groans against her, flicking his tongue back and forth, sucking at her skin and fingering her cunt all at the same time. “You taste like heaven.”

She grinds against his face, barely sitting on the edge of the bed anymore as he wraps his arm around her legs and holds her impossibly close to his mouth. The sound of him eating her out is disgustingly euphoric, he’s so deep it’s like he’s eating her out in search of her soul.

She’s trembling as she gets closer and closer when he stops fingering her, sucking the wetness from her and bringing it back up with his tongue before he sucks on her clit again. That does it, she cums instantly with a shout, covering her mouth and hoping he doesn’t let her hit the floor as she grinds and thrashes through her orgasm. And he doesn’t stop, tongue fucking her to taste the best part.

Her feet touch the floor, and her back is the only part of her still on the bed as she rides his face through it. He pulls back and lets her drop down to the floor and sit in his lap but his "old man" knees are starting to hurt like this, she goes to kiss him and he lets her get a few kisses in before he holds her closer and starts to stand with her. He pulls away just enough to turn her around and push her against the mattress, he kisses her spine and folds himself over her. He moves her hair off her back and kisses her neck. Again, right under her ear, “Are you ready?”

“Please, please,” she begs. “I need you.”

“I might have a condom in my—

“Don’t need it, I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” she assures him.

“Are you—

“Aaron, fuck me, please,” she begs, sticking her ass out even more, taunting him.

He stands up straighter and grips his leaking cock, tapping it on her ass a few times before guiding it between her folds. Teasing her, he grinds the head against her clit a few times before aligning with her hole and starting to push in, inch by inch, she gasps at the feeling and sucks in a sharp breath the deeper he gets.

He folds over her as soon as he bottoms out, kissing her shoulder gently as he reaches out for her hand on the mattress. He interlocks their fingers, holding her hand above her head, he’s as close to her as humanly possible and yet he wants to be closer. He wants to live in her, settle in right beside her soul and never leave.

When he starts to thrust, he goes slowly at first, she reaches back behind herself and rests her hand on his side. Her nails dig into his skin and she whines, “Oh my god, Aaron.”

He kisses her neck and right under her ear, “Can you feel how sorry I am now?” He slightly pulls out and snaps his hips against her then, fucking her quick and dirty.

“Yes, yes! Oh my god, we should get mad at each other more often,” she all but screams, slightly muffled by her face against the mattress.

He pulls away, letting go of her hand so he can rest his on her lower back as he fucks her harder. She brings her one leg up onto the mattress, opening herself up so he can get a little deeper. He grips her leg under the knee and keeps going, harder and more frequent thrusts, making her gasp and moan into the mattress to try and stay quiet but she can’t. It feels too good for her.

For him, it’s even better. The way she sucks him in, how warm she is, how wet she is… she’s even better than he ever imagined and he never wants it to end. But he misses her face. He wants to embrace her and hold her close and make love to her, not just fuck her. So he pulls out.

“wha—

“Roll over. Move up,” he instructs her, kneeling on the bed, he watches her do just that and gets between her legs. He hovers over her, leaning in for a kiss as she reaches between them and guides him back inside.

Kissing her as he trusts, their lips move together and their tongues clash through breathy moans and whispers of “I love you.” Her legs wrapped around him, her arms around his middle, her nails dug into his back as she kneaded at his skin.

He reaches between them, his hand on her pelvis and his thumb starts to circle around her clit. He wants her to be as close as he is, he wants them to cum together. He wants her to enjoy this as much as he was, and from the way she clenches around him and the cute little noises she makes, he knows she is.

“Oh, Aaron,” she whines, tossing her head back.

He kisses her cheek and buries his head in the crease of her neck as he drives into her over and over. He starts to smile to himself, thinking about how she said sex hasn’t changed that much since the last time he had it… But he’s never had sex as good as this. It was never this passionate, never this needy, never this euphoric.

He bites her gently, grazing his teeth along her skin, making her gasp. He wants to suck at her neck, cover her in marks, and let everyone in the world know he’s been there and she belongs to him. He feels so possessive. He knows he can’t. They have to sit on the jet in front of their friends for most of their morning and well into the afternoon tomorrow and if they’re unlucky, start another case right after. He can’t mark her the way he wants. But he can make her his in another way…

“You close?” He asks, prepared to hold back if she isn’t.

But she nods enthusiastically, “god, yeah.”

Through bated breath he asks, just to make sure, “Are you still okay with me finish—

“Yes, yes, please, cum in me?” She begs. “I need it, Aar, please?”

“I got you,” he assures her. “Let go, sweet girl, whenever you’re ready.”

His trusts stay steady and even, his thumb circles her clit, and he kisses just under her ear. She grips him so tight, wrapped around him like her life depended on it and her breathing changes. He knows she’s right there and he’s going to be right after. He wants to feel the way her orgasm sucks him in deeper, the way she pulsates around him, the way her body goes limp and quakes and the beautiful sounds she’ll make before he gives in. He already got a taste of that earlier, but now he wants to memorize it with his cock deep inside of her.

She starts to quake then, her thighs rumble against him. Her back starts to arch, pushing her core closer to him instinctually like this is what she was made for. Her orgasm is right there, bubbling to the top and about to spill. He gives her one last piece of motivation.

“Come on, cum for me,” he whispers. “Be a good girl and— oh, there it is!” He teases as she releases.

He was right. She clenches around him, pulling him in even deeper. He moves his hand away from her clit, wraps them around her back and starts to fuck her even harder, making her cry out over and over, completely disregarding the fact that her coworker is in the next room. He’s so close, right there, he moves to kiss her on the mouth again and she cups his face as he does so. Breathing while kissing her, his hot breath on her face as their lips and tongues meet once more.

His body heats up, his stomach starts to feel like a swarm of butterflies and then it erupts through his bloodstream. He cums with a deep groan, dropping his forehead against hers, he fucks into her once more and stays there as rope after rope of cum releases inside of her.

“I love you,” he pants, collapsing on top of her, holding her back just as close as she’s holding him. “I love you so much.”

—

On the jet in the morning, everyone sat down with their coffee and quiet. Dave has a manuscript for his new book to proofread. Derek has his music. Spencer has some medical journals he finds interesting and JJ has a big smile on her face. “You guys will never guess how long the couple in the room beside me was fucking last night.”

He watches as Y/N’s eyes widen and the colour leaves her face. He just bites his tongue, pressing his lips together he flips through a file, pretending not to hear her.

“How long?” Derek asks.

Just as she goes to answer Spencer speaks up, “Weren’t you beside Y/N and Hotch…”

“I hate you guys, I hate you so much,” Y/N finally bursts out. She shook her head, mortified. “I can’t believe you. I can’t. Seriously?”

They all laugh, Spencer and Derek are relieved that they’re not the only ones to get embarrassed now and JJ is just happy she’s the one to get to start the teasing this time after a year and a bit of being teased about Will.

“I can write you all up, remember?” Aaron reminds them, trying so hard not to smirk but he fails. He knows he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. He had the best sex of his life last night, he’s allowed to glow a bit.

They shut up after that but Spencer does reach his hand over, palm facing Y/N, and she gives him a reluctant high five.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

IKP

@southernraven @alluringshawn @lambsheepsheeping @lmg-stilinski24 @louderfortheback @deludedfruitcake @kleff03 @mrs-ssa-hotch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @lokifanfic2021 @art-and-thoughts @forkswabutnoforks4me @no-1martinipolice @panhoeofmanyfandoms

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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madameaug · 8 months

Text

Meet the Mod || JJK x OC

Pairing: Streamer Jungkook x Black Female Modder

WC: 1.4k >

NOTE: Now finished :)

"Hey, chat." Jungkook greeted the thousands of viewers tuning into his stream. His eyes glossed over the moving text as he adjusted his camera equipment. Jungkook had recently returned to his streaming schedule after taking a temporary break. The past two weeks had been pretty stressful for the young streamer. He had just moved from his small apartment to a much larger, more comfortable place.

It was crazy for him to think that he could sustain his lifestyle off his streaming income. Four years ago, he would have laughed at someone telling him he would average 70,000 viewers a livestream.

Did you eat? What did you do today? Marry me pls!!!

It was the same typical chatter that he was used to seeing.

"I ate three cups of spicy ramen. I did some training with my boxing mentor today." Jungkook rubbed his slightly pudgy stomach. He slid his beanie slightly higher, showing more of his forehead into the camera.

Mang_luver: Ur back!

Jungkook recognized the username of one of his modders. 'Mang luver' was a part of the handful of mods Jungkook had in his streams. Three of them were his close friends from high school, and the other two were viewers in the beginning with him. Mang luver fell into the latter category. She was always kind to him and helped foster the culture within the community.

Since there were so few mods, he was in a private and somewhat active group chat with his moderators. They spoke frequently with each other. Some of them even meet up in person.

"Hey Mang."

What games are you playing today?

That was the question that most of the viewers were asking Jungkook.

"Ah, I think I'm just gonna chat today. I'm not in the best mindset to focus on Overwatch or anything like that tonight."

Several topics for conversation spoke over the AI Jungkook has set up for his stream. Most of them asked for advice in school, which Jungkook wouldn't mind discussing; however, he doesn't think he's the best person to talk about school motivation.

His life path was quite untraditional. He dropped out of high school to pursue music. He was semi-successful and eventually returned to school to complete his high school diploma. Now he streams and boxes.

He sorted through the chat, looking for interesting topics. Straying away from suggestive or potentially sexual topics.

"My ideal type?" Jungkook read out the chat. It intrigued him.

Jungkook stroked his imaginary beard, thinking about his ideal romantic partner.

"I would say someone who is confident and not afraid of a challenge. I'm really attracted to a person's aura and the vibes they give out."

Jungkook was quite honest with his words. In the past, he's thought about the physical attributes that he wants in his future girlfriend. He didn't have anything that was top priority. Most of his deal breakers involved personality. Like if they were rude to customer service workers or if they were disrespectful.

It was hard for him to narrow his ideal partner to a list of physical attributes.

"I guess I can also add that the person would have to be an ARMY. Jungkook smiled. His shameless flirting ignited the chat. The chat eating it up.

Mang_luver: are you tryna rizz up the chat?

Mang_luver: L streamer

"You don't like my flirting skills Mang? Jungkook couldn't hold back his smirk. He and Mang had a teasing report with each other. Causing live entertainment for those in the chat.

"You know what, chat, I think I know my type. I like girls who don't like me back."

Jungkook waited patiently for another witty remark from Mang. The chat commented that the two were acting like a married old couple. They always bickered about small, petty things that eventually it just became part of their dynamic.

Mang_luver: YUCK

Mang_luver: *gag*

"You know you love it, Mang."

Mang face reveal?

I'm tryna see something? What they said ^^^

The thought crossed Jungkook's mind that he had never seen an image of Mang. While he knew her real name, Jennette, and her age 24. He would never reveal such information while he was live. In the back of his mind, he wondered what she looked like, but the thought never developed into more.

But now the chat was begging for the modder to reveal her face. Spam flooding the chat box, Jungkook watched, curious as he wanted to see her face.

"Mang get on Discord." Jungkook instructed pulling up a new tab, before sharing his screen for the thousands to see.

Mang_luver: ... Mang_luver: fine Mang_luver: i hate you all

Upon reading the last message, he clicked the call button above her username. The chat was probably more excited than Jungkook. Mang answered the call ten seconds later, showing nothing but a black screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Turn your camera on."

"You're so pushy." Jenette pouted on the other side of the camera. She was up trying to freshen up her looks, to make it not look like she was lying down in bed. She removed her satin head scarf and shook her mini twists that dangled by her shoulders. She washed her hair last night and did the twist til she got her braids in the next few days.

"I just wanna see what you look like Mangy Pangy."

Jennette rolled her eyes, hearing that awful nickname.

"I thought you agreed you weren't gonna call me that?"

"I thought you agreed you were gonna show your face?'

"Actually, I agreed to get on Discord. Not to show my face." Jennette smiled at her response.

"Such a smart ass."

"Don't wanna be a dumbass like you." The comebacks rolled off her tongue easily. She didn't have to think when she said them at all.

"You are lucky I like you." Jungkook grumbled, clicking around on his computer. He pulled up Instagram on the tab. Jennette knew that Jungkook didn't "like" her that way, but its effect on her was apparent. She cleared her throat, snapping out of brief feelings of attraction.

"So you can turn on your camera or tell me your Instagram. I wanna see what you look like."

Jungkook started typing in guesses for Jennette's Instagram without giving her time to think. The first few guesses were unsuccessful, pulling up random people who looked nothing like her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she looked over her appearance, unsure about the whole face reveal deal.

Her skin was slightly dewey from her skincare routine. Acne scars covered certain areas of her cheeks. More importantly, her purple cat-eye glasses. The frames enhanced her almond eye shape and made her look slightly younger in her nighttime apparel.

Without another word, she turned on her camera. Jungkook wasn't looking at the video call. He was still trying to guess her Instagram. Little did he know that her Instagram didn't contain her name at all. So at this rate he would never find her Instagram. The chat jumped with the thousands of new comments, all discussing her appearance.

Omg she's so pretty. Damnnnnnn Black Barbie fr fr She's not one of us

Gahhhlee

It took a message being read by the AI voice for Jungkook to redirect his attention to the Discord call. He had to readjust himself on the couch. He pulled one of his knees to his chest.

"Awww."

Jenette looked away from her screen, blushing at his reaction. She was nervous, waiting for him to be compelled to react in a humiliating way.

"You happy?" Jennette found it hard to look at the streamer. Gosh, he was so boyfriend-coded that she knew that her thoughts would start to evolve this simple interaction into something more. She got like this with most of her crushes. It never took long for her to fall for someone.

"You're so cute."

"Shut up."

Rizz her up Jungkook!

Yall look good together omgggg

"Yall, it's not like that, I'm not gonna rizz up, Mang. I was just curious to see what she looked like. Now, we can move on to something else." With a smile, he redirected the stream to a totally different topic. Mang took this as a segway to leave the call and rejoin the chat. Junkgook discussed the latest SZA music video 'Snooze', with Justin Bieber.

However, the chat was still discussing Mang's looks. More and more comments were becoming passive-aggressive. And Jungkook couldn't ignore the overwhelming backhanded compliments. It was time for him to step in and say something.

"Ayo, chill. That's enough on Mang. Don't forget she can ban any of yall."

I wish someone would defend me like Jungkook does Mang. ooop hell yeah- put them in their place!

He scrolled up the chat logs to see if Mang spoke. But she was radio silent. With his phone unlocked and off-camera, Jungkook privately messaged Mang. He wanted to ensure she was okay and confirm that he wasn't okay with the rude comments she was facing. Mang texted back pretty quickly, confirming that she was fine.

Mang_luver: I don't know why I just felt so nervous

Mang_luver: Face reveals always stir up anxiety for me

ABCDEFGHI__LMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ : I get it

ABCDEFGHI__LMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ: But don't listen to them. You do look good, like really good

Mang_luver: That's really sweet

ABCDEFGHI__LMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ: After stream I'll call you to ensure that things between us are still cool. I don't fuck with that bully shit.

ABCDEFGHI__LMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ: That good?

Mang_luver: Yeah I'll be up

Closing out of his phone, Jungkook reacted to a couple of other music videos released in August. Before he knew it, it was a quarter past three. Jungkook yawned before wrapping up the conversation he was having with chat.

"I'm gonna get off, guys. This was fun, per usual." Jungkook smiled and started waving at the people, saying 'good night' to him.

He's probably going to talk to Mang goodnight kookie you never answered?? will you marry me??? pls!!

He ended the stream, rubbing his face. Walking to his bedroom, he thought about what to say to Jennette. He was use to the 'mean' comments that he would get from trolls in his comments. Working in the music industry for all those years helped him grow thick skin. Plus, he knew that they wouldn't return that same energy if he ever met these people in real life.

He thought about how to properly apologize to Jennette. Eyes getting heavy, and the last thing on his mind was his really pretty modder.

#bts x black reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x black reader #x black reader #kpop x black reader #black writers #small drabble #jungkook #jungkook imagines

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eisforeidolon · 5 months

Text

Forgive me for restating the obvious, but I was reading through an old post and it just kind of hit me in a way it hadn't before: One of hellers' most fundamental disconnects with the show (and media literacy in general) is how they try to insist parallels establish romance.

SPN used parallels to couples and romantic tropes a lot in regards to the brothers. But it was never meant as a signal that they were romantically in love or to tell you something you otherwise couldn't figure out. It was to underline what we already knew from the entire rest of the story about how they were the most important people in each other's lives. It used romantic relationships because that's a central status typically reserved only for romantic relationships - that was part of the point.

Let's take an example or two. Dean compares himself and Sam to Jesse and Cesar from The Chitters. After interacting with them for a while, Dean is like, 'Haha, you fight just like brothers, almost as bad as Sam and me' and they say that it's more like an old married couple. This is Dean comparing an exact thing that actually happens between him and Sam, silly petty bickering, to something that exactly happens between a married couple. Likewise, let's take Dean's expression and the script note he's thinking about Sam's close call in Red Meat. Michelle is talking about watching the man she loves die and how nothing can be the same, and Dean is thinking about how he believed he lost Sam earlier that same episode and reacting to what she's saying. No one is under the impression that these are signposts telling you for the very first time that Sam and Dean are weirdly, claustrophobically close in a way that compares to romantic couples. They're quick moments which draw an underline on what you already know from the way they've acted towards each other for the entire preceding (and following) length of the show. If you cut either of those moments? It would change nothing about what we understand of Sam and Dean's relationship, because that's how using parallels in storytelling actually works.

Hellers want to insist that romantic couples and tropes being parallels to D/C in and of itself proves that D/C is romantic. Why else would SPN use couples and romantic tropes?!? Well, because SPN does that all the fucking time, maybe? Which is even before you get into how superficial the basis for their supposed parallels typically are.

Let's take an example or two. Hellers want to insist that Dean and Castiel were paralleled to David and Violet from Bloodlines because and I shit you not, one of them wore a tan coat. As well as the absurdly generic dialogue line, "I was there, where were you?" being used both in the backdoor pilot and in 6x20 by Dean. Aha! David and Violet are clearly stand-ins for Dean and Cas, and they were planning to run away together, so D/C is clearly romantic, BOOM! Except literally nothing about Dean and Castiel's actual relationship lines up with that. In no sense were Dean and Castiel ever planning to run away from their families together - not at the point where Dean was calling Castiel out for pretending he didn't know where Dean was if he really wanted advice or otherwise. Unlike the actual parallels with Sam and Dean, there is no underlying narrative base. Likewise, hellers want to insist that Castiel is Dean's Colette. Aha! Cain said Dean is living his life in reverse, and he killed Collette last and his brother first, so since he said Dean would kill Castiel before Sam, Castiel=Colette, and Colette was a romantic partner, so Dean lurves the angel! BOOM! Just for the sake of being pedantic, let's break this nonsense down one more time. Cain lists Crowley as well as Castiel as people Dean will kill before Sam. Collette was special to Cain because she saw everything he was, never gave up on him, and was able to get him to drop the blade. Which is literally what Sam does during the time Dean has the Mark - meanwhile Castiel tries to get Dean to not go and slaughter the Stynes and fails and is ready to give up and kill Dean after he goes demonic. Which doesn't even get into the part where ... Cain is literally just wrong in telling his little fairy tale. Dean is not him. When given the choice of killing his brother, Cain does it. When given the choice of losing control, Cain does it. Dean tries to get Death to shoot him into outer space and then kills Death rather than actually kill Sam. Dean and Dean's love for his brother are both far stronger than Cain is capable of understanding. So the parallel life thing? Is fundamentally hooey anyway. Again, there's no narrative there for a parallel to be drawing an underline on because none of their cobbled together meta resembles anything going on in the actual text. That's not how storytelling uses parallels or any other kind of subtext, by creating something entirely separate and expecting the general audience to decipher it. Though it's no surprise they try to insist that a show would do that, because they have nothing else.

TLDR; Their entire argument is that a comparison to a romantic couple makes two other characters' relationship automagically romantic because reasons. Which even putting aside the lack of validity in their parallels ... continues to be a boldly idiotic statement given the number of actually textual comparisons the show makes between Sam & Dean and romantic couples. Again, it's no wonder they freaked the fuck out over that forehead touch, because they very fundamentally refused to understand what SPN was actually doing on literally any level.

#destihellers #destiew #long post

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gregorovitch-adler · 5 months

Text

My thoughts about The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes:

Let's start by summarising the movie -

No crime-solving happens in the first 34 minutes. The first act is all about Holmes and Watson's dynamic, exploration of the nature of their relationship with each other, etc. If you're the type of person who only watches/reads Sherlock Holmes for the cases, you'd believe this portion is skippable. Only the blink-and-miss detail about the "Midgets' case" is important as far as Holmes' detective work is concerned.

However, if you think exploring Holmes and Watson's interpersonal relationship and their casework are both equally important, like I do, the first act is GOLD. Most of the Tumblr gifs about this movie are from the first 30-35 mins lol.

1.) Holmes enters and they bicker like an old, married couple.

H: Oh, come now, Watson, you must admit that you have a tendency to overromanticize. You have taken my simple exercises in logic and embellished them, embroidered them, exaggerated them ---

W: I deny the accusation.

H: You have described me as six-footfour, whereas I am barely six-footone.

W: A bit of poetic license.

Not only is this whole scene just delightful in general but the theory about Watson being an unreliable narrator in ACD canon is actually being supported throughout the movie, starting right here.

W:It's those little touches that make you colorful...

H: Lurid is more like it. You have painted me as a hopeless dope addict - just because I occasionally take a five per cent solution of cocaine.

W: A seven per cent solution.

H: Five per cent. Don't you think I'm aware you've been diluting it behind my back?

This exchange was lovely. Way to slip in their closeness through a few words.

2.) Watson doesn't think it's odd to barge right in when Holmes is completely naked and taking a bath?

Also, why the hell does Holmes bathe with his bedroom door wide open?

And what's that thing he's taking a bath in called? Does anyone know about this stuff? Was this thing common in that timeline? It doesn't seem to fit a grown man like Holmes.

I have so many questions and I'm speechless at the same time. I'll just drop this here:

3.) Then Watson persuades Holmes to go to The Swan Lake ballet.

Watson enjoys that ballet, a little too much at that, mostly because he's staring at all the women on stage. (We'll get back to this later.)

Holmes on the other hand has dozed off. All he can admire about the most beautiful dancer, Petrova, is her strong arches. Which is... 🏳‍🌈

Then that whole scene about Nicholai and Petrova and Holmes in the dressing room. XD

Petrova offers a Stradivarius violin to Holmes in exchange for sleeping with her for a week, so that her child would be beautiful like her and brilliant like Holmes.

Holmes gets out of the situation by lying to both of them; saying he's in a relationship with Watson.

Honestly, that whole bit. Just look at the lines:

N: She has been dancing since she was three years old, and after all, she is now thirty-eight.

H: (gallantly) I must say she doesn't look thirty-eight.

N: That is because she is forty-six.

And:

Nicholai: (about Tolstoy) Too old --- Then we considered the philosopher, Nietzsche --

H: Absolutely first-rate mind ---

N: Too German --

Etc. They're all so funny. This whole scene is something else.

In fairness to Holmes, he did try to get himself out of the situation by lying about having hemophilia in his family, or saying that he's unromantic because he's English, etc but Petrova was having none of it.

Watson coming into the room all of a sudden gives so much clarity and calmness to Holmes. He just knows what to say to help himself because of Watson.

This unforgettable exchange:

N: You mean, you and Dr. Watson - He is your glass of tea?

H: If you want to be picturesque about it.

On a side note, I absolutely loved Nicholai's face journey throughout both scenes - in the dressing room, stuck in the middle of Holmes and Petrova's awkwardness, and later on when he asks about the alleged Holmes-Watson romance to Watson after having spread the rumour in the whole room.

I just loved his reactions a lot.

According to this movie-

Caprice of Mother Nature = Gay.

Half-and-half = Bisexual.

Watson comes to know about the rumour, after having had the time of his life with both men and women in the ballroom. Watson is pissed off, he goes home and confronts about the whole thing to Holmes.

They have a row at Baker Street, in which Watson is being extremely heteronormative again. Thinking too much about his reputation without stopping to question his own feelings and his weird fixation on Holmes' love life.

There's that famous line again:

W: Holmes, let me ask you a question. I hope I'm not being presumptuous -but there have been women in your life?

H: The answer is yes -- you're being presumptuous. Good night.

Awesome.

This marks the end of Act I.

The existence of these 33 minutes of the movie is proof that the writing team in this adaptation knows that exploring Holmes and Watson's characters and what they mean to each other is as important as Holmes' casework. Billy Wilder takes this seriously, even though there are some jokes here and there about it.

The whole of Act I is filled with raising questions about Holmes and Watson's preferences, etc. Does Holmes feel love or is he just a machine? Does Holmes feel love for Watson? Does Watson know about Holmes' feelings for him? Does Watson feel the same way about Holmes?

In my opinion, all the answers to the personal questions about Holmes are as clear as a day. What's really questionable is whether Watson knows and/or feels the same way about Holmes or not. Different viewers might draw different conclusions/inferences after watching this movie.

After this, the movie takes a turn because "Gabrielle" enters the picture, and the actual crime-solving begins from here. The tone becomes a bit more serious in this act.

A young woman, completely wet and in shock enters 221 B. Watson has to pay for her fare to the cabbie before he and Holmes take her upstairs to take care of her.

She can't remember anything at first, then from her wedding ring, Holmes gets to know her name: Gabrielle Valladon. Her husband's name is Emile Valladon.

She appears to have temporary amnesia because of getting hit on the forehead and almost drowning in the Thames.

She reveals info about herself that she's from Belgium, her husband was here in London for a job, they used to write to each other, and after some time, the letters from her husband stopped coming. She'd gone to the London police first after coming to this city. She says the police had advised her to consult Sherlock Holmes.

Now, this should make the viewer skeptical of her. Scotland Yard does consult Sherlock Holmes when they need him, but they aren't going to let him have the whole case if there's a situation like this.

Besides, that woman ending up at Baker Street specifically seems to be planned, anyway. Also, there's always this man who keeps waiting for her or someone else's signals on the outside.

I know what we see on screen comes from Watson's drafts on loose pages, but this movie's narration seems to be Third Person Omniscient POV to me. Where the viewer is privy to more information as compared to the characters.

The three of them keep looking for her husband's whereabouts, and she pretends to be helpless, needy, and fragile (to stroke the ego of the men around her, I believe. I mean that could be one of the reasons...) with temporary amnesia throughout most of the movie. Holmes and Watson don't suspect a thing about her as they keep working for her and she keeps sending cryptic messages to the "Trappists" (German government) with her parasol.

The thing I love about this act:

Ilse von Hofmannsthal aka Gabrielle Valladon is actually a competent character who happens to be a woman. We can see something shady is going on with her even though we don't know her real name, but one of the most brilliant people on the planet doesn't suspect anything. He thinks she's just a woman looking for her husband's whereabouts. He thinks her back story is real.

He keeps on thinking that until Mycroft basically tells him in the third act which is why we're able to see for ourselves that Ilse was genuinely able to outsmart Holmes. We don't have to be told by the narrative voice about Ilse's strengths (*cough* unlike BBC Sherlock and a lot of female characters written by Steven Moffat *cough*).

I, for one, felt respectful of Ilse or "Gabrielle" for real. It was quite refreshing to me after having watched some modern Holmes adaptations.

Holmes, Watson, and "Gabrielle" go looking for the cause of Emile Valladon's death after they've found his coffin in the graveyard, in the guise of having a picnic. Holmes and "Gabrielle" pretend to be a married couple - Mrs and Mr Ashdown, and Watson is their valet. The scenes after this point are delightful mainly because of Watson's reactions (which could be read as his jealousy over Holmes, too).

Also, me when Holmes calls Watson 'John' in an archaic Holmes adaptation:

Because of his sort of stupidity, Holmes takes Ilse, a German spy, right in front of the submersible (which he thinks is a mechanical 'monster' that lives underwater) in a boat, along with Watson.

Ilse was trying to grab as much information as she could about that secret project because she was working for her country. Who knew someone would show her the live version of that model so readily (albeit unknowingly)? :P

The three of them are obviously unable to find anything about Emile Valladon, so they go back to the inn room they're staying in.

That's when one of Mycroft's men comes to pick Holmes up and take him to his elder brother. Here's when the third act begins, I think.

Mycroft had warned Sherlock not to pursue "Gabrielle's" case any further during the second act. But Sherlock didn't listen, because a.) he's an empathetic man, and b.) Mycroft can't just order him to do or drop something just because. Sherlock is not a child anymore.

I know Mycroft was only trying to protect Sherlock, and that he couldn't have told him the real reason to stop him at that time, but still.

Either way, months of planning and testing the submersible have gone to waste because Holmes did not suspect at any point that his client, "Gabrielle Valladon" might have just been lying to him since the start. Can't blame Holmes for that. Ilse was meticulous.

Mycroft shows the model to the queen and she strongly disapproves of the model and curses it a lot. Personally, this seemed to be a shitty decision on her part, and I felt so frustrated and annoyed at her in that scene. She didn't even care to hear about its features. She just rejected it on the spot! :(

Mycroft decides to 'give the submarine' to the German government. It's implied that the Trappists were drowned along with the submarine itself in the deep waters. (That's what I gathered from that scene - correct me if my interpretation was wrong).

In conclusion, while Ilse is genuinely able to outsmart Holmes (unlike some writers forcing us to believe it in their adaptation because they told us so), the German government isn't able to go anywhere with the info they've gathered through Ilse because of Mycroft's last move. Moreover, the English government would have sent her to jail, if Sherlock hadn't suggested Mycroft send her back to her own country.

So, in the end, it's a lose-lose situation for all of them.

1.) Sherlock Holmes didn't know that Ilse was faking her name and her whole identity for a long time, so he unknowingly helped a German spy, thinking he was just helping an ordinary client. Ilse almost had him and the viewers could see for themselves that she'd outsmarted him.

2.) Even after Ilse von Hofmannsthal has got what she wanted for her government, as a spy, they aren't able to make use of that info because of Mycroft. And she has to get out of England anyway.

3.) Mycroft Holmes also fails, to some extent, because ages of effort to plan the submersible, hide the plans, and test the model in secret - all of it has gone to waste. The queen doesn't even want to hear him out in the end.

But even if it was a lose-lose situation, the battle was damn intriguing because of the high intellect on both sides - Holmes brothers and Ilse.

Months later, Holmes receives a letter from Mycroft about Ilse's arrest and execution by the Japanese government. Reading that, he's so moved that he can't even finish his breakfast. He gets up and asks Watson for his cocaine supply. Watson tells him, and then Holmes grabs the bag and goes to his room. Holmes shuts himself in, Watson gets up from the breakfast table too, sits beside the fireplace, and begins to write something on a piece of paper. Probably about the case, but for nobody to see.

End of Act III and the movie.

I loved the background score of this movie. It's quite touching and refreshing to listen to.

A lot of dialogue exchanges in the movie are so deep if you stop to think about them. It's unbelievable how much writers can convey through a few words. Some of them are quite funny too - particularly from Act I. There's a thin line between being funny and mocking, and TPLOSH didn't cross that. It was nice.

I love this portrayal of Sherlock Holmes. It's clear how deeply they've understood him from the original canon. Pretends to be dismissive and closed off but actually cares about everyone way too much.

I also liked Mycroft in this movie, even if he didn't have much screen time.

About Ilse von Hofmannsthal - I loved her. Seriously, this is how you write female characters, modern writers! People say ASIB is a direct adaptation of TPLOSH, which is true, but I'd prefer TPLOSH over that episode any day, and one of the reasons is the way the female lead has been written in the former. Not exactly a fan of how Moffat wrote her in his adaptation. He did her dirty, I'd say.

Characters like Ilse make me think that the writing team of this movie knew what feminism is. I can't say the same for the modern Holmes adaptation that has been heavily inspired by TPLOSH.

I loved the plot of this movie too. The case in itself was also pretty interesting and kept me hooked throughout. Even if it wasn't exactly resolved finally, and the ending was melancholic.

I wasn't expecting the movie to be this good. Which is why it took me so long to sit down and watch it.

I only have one complaint about this movie - Watson's characterisation.

I mean, Watson wasn't half as bad as I'd expected (I thought he was going to be horrible, based on the snippets of the movie I'd seen before), but still. I like how he doesn't fall into the bumbling idiot stereotype. As far as the casework is concerned, Watson is also quite competent and observant in his own right. He can handle the medical work too.

I've got problems with his heteronormativity, and the fact that when it comes to deducing what lies in Holmes' heart, he's dumb as bricks. It's annoying. Like, it's one thing if he doesn't feel the same way about Holmes, but he doesn't have to be so weird and homophobic about it. Also, I think Holmes should've told him about the truth related to Ilse and the 'mechanical monster'. I've had enough of 'keeping Watson in the dark for his own good', damn it! He should be more in the knowledge.

Watson's character was the only element in the movie that didn't receive justice from the writer. As a Watson-centric fan, I need this to stop happening in future Holmes adaptations. People should see more from his POV too, and stop to actually see where he's coming from, and properly understand his character in the next show/movie/whatever they make.

What I gathered from the movie about the characters and their interpersonal relationships-

Holmes is in love with Watson but doesn't admit it... for valid reasons this time. (side eyes at Watson's homophobia).

Watson is deeply attached to Holmes but sees him as a close friend. I wish he felt the same way about Holmes in this movie, but alas! Though if he doesn't feel that way about Holmes, why the hell does he seem so jealous of Ilse in Acts II and III? This is beyond me.

I think what they've tried to show is that Watson is too close-minded to confront his possibly repressed feelings for Holmes, deep within his heart? Maybe. It could very well be my wishful thinking lol.

But as far as Holmes' feelings for Watson are concerned, it's not even wishful thinking. It's just... right there. I wish the subtext about Holmes' pining were spelled out. I know why it couldn't (the Doyle estate was being a pain in the ass at that time), but still. It's quite clear what they wanted to write as far as Holmes' emotional side was concerned, but they dropped it from the scripts after Act I and decided to focus on the case instead.

Holmes is dismissive of 'Gabrielle' at first, but he becomes sympathetic for her after some time. He reaches out to help her with her situation, and as the plot moves forward, he grows affectionate for Gabrielle/Ilse, which is why he doesn't hold a grudge against her when he realises he's been outsmarted by this woman (even though his ego was mildly hurt for a while).

The way they maintained a balance between the plot and the characters is commendable. I love seeing well-written women in fiction and this movie showed me that.

I was surprised to see how good this movie turned out to be, as compared to my preconceived opinions. The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes has officially become my comfort movie now. Miles ahead of BBC Sherlock, in my opinion.

Thanks to my discussions with @jamielovesjam in a previous post about this movie lol. I wouldn't have wanted to watch the movie if not for the long talk I had with them. Also tagging @gaypiningshit and @helloliriels for further discussion.

End of my unnecessarily long rambling.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #holmes/watson #meta #the private life of sherlock holmes #TPLOSH #sherlock meta #my long ass review of a newfound favourite movie #movie review #gregorovitch being passive-aggressive #Ilse von Hofmannsthal #new blorbo acquired #strong female characters #a lovely movie overall #long post

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