#just in case u were wondering <3

[pondslime]

[peapod20001]

OC asks, for Felix : 1, 9, 18 ?

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

18. Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

[togamest]

-> i really wanna stay at your house | 2,290 words. character x character, reincarnation au, smoking, angst, heavy canonical spoilers, implied character death, brief mentions of office life.

author’s notes: i have no words other than i cried a lot while writing this. this has been in my notes for almost a whole year! and is finally ready to grace the archive and the tumblr dash. i heavily recommend watching this show if you can. so much contained in only ten episodes…i can’t speak well of it enough.

-> archive of our own link (available to ao3 users only)

Man, she really needed a smoke.

Lucy races up to the rooftop, feet pattering against concrete as she opens the door to the outside. The cold air hits her skin with a slap, gooseflesh rising all over her as she pulls her coat closer around her with a shiver. There’s a thin sheet of snow drifting down from the cloudy sky, and the city around her is muffled by the slowly piling flakes.

She struts across the rooftop, ignoring the stacked chairs and choosing to go right to the end, sitting on top of one of the benches. Her legs lay off of the edge of the building, feet kicking in the open air as she pulls out her cigarettes. The flash of warmth from her lighter combined with the menthol hitting the back of her throat has her sighing, leaning back on her palms and looking up at the sky.

She thinks of a different time, of a different rooftop in a different era. So much has changed since then; even she doesn’t always remember what happened to everyone, including herself. She recalls in flashes; seeing a different bathtub than she lounges in nowadays, something heavy attached to the back of her head. Code breaks through her vision sometimes, numbers and letters and jargon that she doesn’t understand, the knowledge long-lost. It’s all in red too, always in red.

She hates the color red.

She takes another pull, the nicotine flooding her lungs and giving her more relief with every passing moment. The moon is above her; she doesn’t look up at it. There’s something about it that scares her, because if she does, she might remember something. It’s this horrible aching feeling in her chest, of knowing she’s lost something but doesn’t know exactly what.

It must have been special if I feel like this.

She swings her legs again from where she sits. The building is so tall…twenty stories above the light rail that’s zipping across the city in a silent venture, the snow muffling its noise. Tokyo is pretty at this time of night, lights blinking so far beneath her, the vantage point making her look closer to the moon than the earth upon which she sits.

There’s crunches behind her, of someone’s boots landing in the freshly laden snow. Lucy turns her head, expecting one of the normal tenants to be joining her. There’s a few people she recognizes from the office, along with some older folks who need to find relief in their coveted cigars they’ll tell stories about sourcing from.

It’s neither.

It’s…

It’s him.

So much happens in the span of time it takes the man to approach her and move next to her. Lucy’s brain feels like it’s on fire, her chest tight as she grips her cigarette like a lifeline. Flashes of her old life flicker across her vision, the man’s shape changing into one much shorter, much younger, with a neon-yellow jacket that’s too large for him and a smile that shows too many teeth. His hands are in his pockets, stuffed deeply inside just like he used to.

Brighter eyes, too. Not dull like they are now.

She does her best to contain her sudden panic, quickly looking away from him and anywhere but him as he reaches into his jacket pocket. He rifles through his jacket for something, a grin stretching across his face as he finds his own lighter and pack of cigarettes. The sticks in question are all white with a black filter; there’s a gold wrapping connecting the halves together. It looks like it would taste strange; smokier, more masculine in its own way.

But Lucy can’t even focus on the cigarettes themselves.

She can’t focus on anything else.

She simply watches him, in horror as David brings the stick to his lips, five o’clock shadow covering his chin.

He smokes now.

His hands rest against the balcony’s edge as he looks over the city skyline. The lights, although dimmed by the snow, are so bright against his brown eyes. Full of life despite his inability to care for his facial hair. Her chest feels so tight, tighter than ever as she finishes off her own cigarette, hopping down—

“Hey.”

She stops immediately, turning around and looking at him square in the face. This version of him is tall, not as bulky as he used to be thanks to the implants that threatened to break his bones. However, this time, his frame isn’t sharp; it’s smooth, structured, so much less in pain. Here, his skin is smooth, untainted barring a few tattoos curling across his skin, poking above the neckline of his sweater and extending down across the tops of his hands.

Although, she doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes that she remembers falling in love with an eon ago.

He’s the same.

But different.

He doesn’t say anything more, so she manages to get out a “hi” before she’s attempting to turn away from him. He’s so close to her, when did he get that close to her? She jumps as his hand wraps around her arm, and there’s something in his eyes that’s shifted. There’s something knowing there, and she’s praying that he’s not having flashbacks like she did. Like she’s having right now, seeing blood dripping down the side of his face, eyes crazed, mouth ajar while he yells for his mother, seeing someone who isn’t there—

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

She doesn’t look at him. She can’t. It’s written on her face, she can feel the downturning of her lips and the tears pricking at her eyes. Instead, she looks up at the moon. So big, so bright, so far away. The moon doesn’t need to worry about taxes, or rent, or getting a job, or any of the bullshit that adult life has brought her.

It simply appears at night, like clockwork, without fail; basking the world in shades of silver and white.

“What do you mean?” she answers. She plays coy.

Does he know what gravity that sentence holds?

He scoffs, releasing her arm. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Another chance to come together and recall forgotten. Lucy tells herself it’s better that way. It’s better to forget, to move on, to not rehash the past. What’s it going to do? Remind her of everything that happened that she’d soon pull out of her own brain like a growing weed?

David’s funny in the office.

She quickly discovers that they’ve been working for the same company for months; they’ve just never needed to cross paths, because why would they have? Apparently he’d just gotten promoted onto her floor, working under Maine. It’s ironic, really, thinking about how she seems to remember her fellow employees but none seem to remember her. She’s not sure if that’s fully the truth, though. She’s seen the way Maine’s eyes glaze over sometimes. Like he’s recalling something painful when he looks at her.

David, despite his organizational tact (which is something he did not have before), is clearly not built for office life. It’s written all over his face as he sits in his cubicle, munching on the sandwich he’d made himself.

Here, his only worries are Rebecca stealing the stapler off of his desk without asking. It’s the coffee machine running out of his favorite instant coffee cups. It’s the printer smelling his fear and failing to work when he’s rushing to an executive meeting. It’s so mundane that Lucy can’t help but laugh about it.

It’s so, so far from the life they’d lived before. The hard life he had lived before; she’d made peace with her own, but God, she doesn’t miss watching him spiral in front of her. Knowing that it was her fault, introducing him to this life so soon after his mother died right in front of him. It was her responsibility to shoulder that pain.

Her cross to bear, funnily enough.

There’s glances he gives her every once in a while, though. The old David appears in those moments, however fleeting. Her photographic memory holds them in time like a Polaroid, slipping them into an album that’s shoved into the back of her brain. A place she only goes when she’s at her limits, both mentally and physically.

He comes by her office often, leaning on the glass with his arms crossed in front of him. The office shirts he wears have ridiculously loud prints on them; all yellow and blue, just like his old jacket. She swears when he turns and walks away, she can envision the symbol on the back of his jacket sometimes.

She rubbed her eyes for a while after that to remove the picture from her brain, and went back to working, nails tapping against the keys to distract her from the feeling welling up in her chest.

Regret.

It’s at six months that she finally lets go.

They’re up on the rooftop, smoking together, a bottle of shitty wine shared between the two of them. It’s almost empty, and Lucy’s vision is hazy as she looks over at David.

He’s in a tank top this time, his muscles curving nicely underneath the light fabric. Tokyo’s going through a heat wave right now, and the thin sheen of sweat on his skin glints in the moonlight, silver specks across his form as he looks over at her. There’s a faint redness on his cheeks from the wine as he sloppily grins.

“What are you thinking about?”

His voice is so much smoother than she remembers. Deeper, too, almost raspy. Then again, it’s not like he made it past nineteen the last time she saw him. She shakes her head, smiling at him gently as she takes another rip off her menthol.

“Nothing important.”

He chuckles. It’s dark.

“You always seem so lost in your own head. Must have a lot going on, huh?”

Oh, that’s close. That’s too close to the truth, really. “Sort of,” she chooses to respond, attempting to keep the cryptic air around her tight, like a cloak. Like a safety net. She looks up at the moon as she does so, tilting her head, and—

“Oh.”

Something shifts in the air, so quickly that Lucy herself can’t stop it, couldn’t bear to as she feels him reach out to her. His hand lands on her shoulder, but it feels a mile away as she begins to shake, tears threatening to finally drift down her cheeks as she bites her lip.

She can’t stop it anymore. She can’t hold back the memories.

“I never forgot how happy you looked when we were up there, you know.”

She nods to the moon’s face as she does so, and risks a look at David.

She’s expecting anything but what she finds; she’s anticipating fear, horror, confusion, even resentment to come flooding across his face. But instead, she discovers quite the opposite.

Relief.

He sighs, thumb drifting across the soft skin of her shoulder as he scoots closer. He moves his hand up to her chin, forcing her to look at him as she jumps, feeling the electricity between the two of them. She can’t stop the tears; they’re already falling as he just looks at her. He doesn’t say anything, and it’s eating at her.

What the fuck.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

It comes out as a croak, and he chuckles again, fingers gently brushing circles onto her chin.

“So you do remember.”

If the world had ended right then and there, Lucy would have been happy. She would have been satisfied, with knowing David did remember, but also tearing her heart out of her chest in the fearful understanding that he remembered. What did he remember? Did he remember his death? The way he’d looked at her before he went to face off against Adam Smasher? The way he’d blundered into every situation he’d gotten into and leaned on a toxic body modification to help him avenge his mother?

“All of it.”

“W-What?”

“All of it.” He repeats himself. “You asked me what I remembered, and I remember all of it.”

His face is blurry. The tears are flooding down her cheeks now as Lucy chokes out a sob, because she can’t sit next to him anymore. Instead, she leans into him, ready to crawl to him. Because he’s back with her, he’s here, undamaged, unscathed, big shoulders and cocky grin and raucous laughter and everything that made him David.

Everything she had missed. It felt like a piece of her chest, the aching part she could never fully understand, was filled.

“I missed you,” she manages to say against the thin fabric of his tank top. His fingers are larger, carding through her hair, nails able to dig into her scalp as he coos at her.

“I missed you too. So fucking much. More than I will ever understand.”

They sit like that for a long time, Lucy sobbing into his shirt, and David resting his chin on her head. The sobs quiet into hiccups and sighs, and then she finally arises, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. “It’s too bad,” she says, out of context, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Too bad for what?”

She points to the moon, the fullness shining down on them. Was it brighter than before? Did it feel brighter now that it’s watching it’s two halves find each other again?

“We’ll never be able to go back there, you know. Not here, at least.”

His eyes glimmer as he responds, her body light in his hands.

“Why would I want to? I got my moon right here in front of me.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[stonerzelda]

*me at my wedding* as a child my favorite creepy pasta was ben drowned. And now ben as i marry u. I can say i would say there is nobody i would rather have haunt my cartridge <3 *puts hand up like this against my mouth 🫸* sex joke! 😉 *gets killed dead by my 3 relatives that showed up to my zelda/star wars themed wedding*

[blackcatarts]

cca antagonist save me. evelyn crawford. eve save me.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

shes such a freak!!!!! <3 <3 <3

[afaramir]

and on a completely different note than the previous post. just so you know denethor carries not only a sword but a knife. like on his person at all times. just a fun fact for everyone’s edification.

[rillette]

Any fun facts about kilowog? He is like an uncle to me

Kilowog is really fucking smart!! i feel like people tend to forget that bc he's pretty down to earth. He used to be a geneticist back on Bolovax Vik, before it exploded. Bolovax Vik was super populated and the Bolovaxians share a mind link, so Kilowog is a pretty social person. He's also super good with mechanics!! Kilowog hung around the JLI embassy for a bit and did some mechanics work. Him and Guy were pen pals back in the 80s, when Guy was with the JLI and Kilowog was at the GL hype house on earth. Kilowog and Guy are besties ^_^

[loverboy-ish]

i have died. badly.

[woozi]

thank u for giving this lil blog lots of love even though i'm not as active as i used to be 🥰

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

so obsessed with getting doll-like eyelashes for normal reasons that i bought expensive eyelash serum bc it was on sale at a steep discount WITH a bunch of extras thrown in and now i can't stop thinking abt the I'm going to get more lashes today post

[mwagneto]

hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator

🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow

not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option

🪺 magánügyek Follow

tengri forbid women do anything???

735 notes

🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.

8,572 notes

🐎 istván-rovására Follow

that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧

481 notes

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG

✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow

love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????

#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse

3,264 notes

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3

🏇 attila-népe Follow

cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you

🧺 lemezelő Follow

isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????

🏇 attila-népe Follow

you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)

🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow

Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

what the fuck happened to my post

19,276 notes

🪔 rakabonciás Follow

for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.

🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep

anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!

646 notes

🛐 mea-culpa Follow

It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp

#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse

198 notes

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

WRONG BLOG

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS

🪺 magánügyek Follow

ISTVÁN????????????? 💀

[kamipyre]

@rippleofwords sent in: talk about hyuk || the paper machine's gossip session ( ft. talk about meme )

send “talk about-” and a name for my muse to talk about that person!

embers verse:

“…He reminds me of my old colleagues.” Not that he’s actually heard her talk about them, save for, maybe Edgeworth. It’s okay- he doesn’t really talk much about his colleagues back in Seoul anyways. Maybe she wants to keep it that way since well, even if the corruption is weeded out of the LAPD, they’ll never be able to go back to the way things were before. Detective Lee ( @jeoseungsaja ) might be able to do in Seoul, but not hers. Deft fingers press along the fold. “They have a better sense of humor than he does, but he has a similar drive.” The exacting drive demanding nothing more and nothing less than the truth. The recklessness and sheer force to get the desired results. The hardheadedness. She sees them all in Detective Lee, the ghost of friends long gone, never to return…or maybe their spirit, the true nature of the LAPD,  is simply being passed down from one generation to the next. Either way, she makes another fold. This one is going to be a pigeon. “Is he done with questioning Mister Trevor?” That’s the parrot the court is bringing in as a witness for next week’s trial. “He said he had more PAPER for me!”

black knight verse:

 “I deserve a pay raise.” Not that her current salary is terrible- actually, it might be more affordable, living in Seoul rather than in LA. At the very least, she doesn’t need to give up half of her paycheck to cover rent…although then again, it can’t be traditional, living in her current boss’s apartment. One may say it’s even unprofessional…and she might agree if not for the fact that he’s hardly ever in there to begin with. The couch in the office is his actual bed these days. “No one told me I was going to have two jobs while I was here- he needs to find something to do outside of his job. At the rate he’s going, I’ll surprised if he makes it to the end of the year-“ Not that, mind you, she’s going to let him deteriorate to that point. Jae Hwan won’t let that happen either, but it doesn’t change that Lee is barreling in that direction and there’s so much either of them can do to slow his descent. And the quickest way to do that is get to the bottom of the case- if only pleasing him was as simple as pleasing the Pigeon Man…all that guy needs is a bag of seeds and the pigeons. Nevertheless, her eyes soften as she sets her folded report on the desk. “…It’s not like the truth is going to change anything.” But he’s going to go for it anyways, won’t he? Find out the full story or die trying. She doesn’t know the whole story behind this all-consuming desire, no one does and Lee isn’t planning on changing that but…

“I want answers.” Not only to figure out the irritating conundrum of the case, but also set Lee’s ghosts to rest. It’s hard to live one’s own life, when the ghosts of those beloved have not been properly buried.

She would know that BETTER than anyone else.  

[kimstills]

blame

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader, platonic!spencer x reader summary: in which your close relationship with spencer makes aaron wonder if there’s something going on between you and the young doctor. content warnings: mentions of kidnappings, torture, child abuse (typical cm case stuff), insecurities, age gap, and haley, jealous!aaron (hb is DOWN BAD), he kind of acts like a prick in the middle of this? but it’s v brief and he apologizes!! hints of autistic!spence, angst if u squint but mostly fluff, miscommunication, technically idiots to lovers but hotch is the only idiot <3 word count: 5.1k (this was NOT supposed to be this long omfg) a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had where i was besties w reid and everyone thought i liked him until i had to blurt out that i was into older men… enjoy!!

If looks could kill, Aaron was sure Spencer would be dead by now.

It was contradicting, in a way. How he thought of Spencer like the son that had come before his actual son, yet he was staring at him like a predator stalking their next victim.

You were standing next to the young genius, shoulders brushing against shoulders as you went back and forth with the geographical profile the two of you had been assigned to work on, something Aaron was really regretting having done.

The team had been called in to assist with a case in Portland, Maine, involving an abductor-type unsub. One who would stalk his victims and learn their routines before kidnapping them, torturing them for two to three days before disposing of them in forests and parks all throughout the city.

You and Reid were both tied when it came to your skills with geographical profiles, one of the many things that had blossomed your relationship with him. But with the way the unsub was beginning to rapidly devolve, the rush to develop said profile and figure out his next move had forced Aaron to assign you two together.

Deep down he knew that it had to be done for the sake of the case and all its victims, and that it was the best decision to make as leader of the team.

But, still, he couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling from within him, his gaze completely focused on the way you giggled and smiled, endeared, while watching Reid struggle to tape the map one of the sheriffs had supplied you with to a spare whiteboard in the office the team had been given to work in.

He hadn’t even noticed when JJ walked up to him, the blonde hair and white button up she was wearing apparently not enough to break him out of his trance until—

“Hotch.”

Aaron snaps his head towards her, blinking in bewilderment, “Sorry, what?”

JJ stares at him with a look of both concern and amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand is raised expectantly and her eyes flicker towards the case file in his hands.

He looks down at it, brows furrowing when he finally sees the death grip he was holding the paper with. It’s slightly crumpled from where his thumb had rested, the pages wrinkled.

He clears his throat, trying to soothe out the file as subtly and smoothly as he can before handing it to JJ, “Sorry,” he grumbled.

The blonde chuckles softly, taking it from him and doing her own best to bend it back into place. She begins to flip through the pages, though she can’t help but follow Aaron’s gaze back to you and Spencer.

You had finally gotten up to help him in taping up the map, taking it from his hands and effortlessly doing so before turning around and giving him a cheeky smile.

JJ turns her attention back to him, biting back a smug smile when she sees her boss practically glaring daggers at the two of you, “I assume you’re trying to figure them out, too?” She asks, looking down at the file.

Aaron blinks, this time slowly turning his head to gaze down at her, “What do you mean?”

Her eyes widen at the realization of what she just had insinuated about her co-workers to her boss. She shrugs coolly, trying to play it off, “Nothing. They’re just really close is all,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile before quickly walking away, leaving Aaron more confused than before.

He feels his fingers twitch by his side when he glances back at you. It’s cheesy, the way his heart skips a beat when you tuck the strands of hair that had made itself to the front of your face behind your ears. His hardened features soften at the sight of you laughing at something Reid’s said, something he’s sure only the two of you understand.

Aaron’s not sure what it was that had gotten him to stick out for you like a sore thumb or how his sudden infatuation with watching and admiring you and your every move had happened.

All he could recall was that it happened, and it had happened too fast for him to begin realizing how you had begun to overcome his every thought and consume him with feelings he hadn’t felt since Haley’s passing and his marriage with her.

A part of him had told himself that he wasn’t to blame; not only were you one of the best agents he had ever worked with, but you were the loveliest and wholesome of humans.

You had your rough days, everyone on the team understandably did, yet you never failed to meet people with kindness and patience, something else that Aaron wasn’t used to receiving when it came to his co-workers. And, as much as they loved him and he loved them, even his team members were prone to calling him ‘cold’ and ‘stoic.’

While you, on the other hand would always meet him with fond, bright smiles and greetings, never once avoiding his gaze or running the opposite direction as to ‘not get in his way’ like others did.

You were like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a dark and tremendous storm, shining on him with such warmth.

So, in the end, he couldn’t really help himself from falling for you. Or for even feeling childishly jealous when you were shining your warmth onto others.

Especially with someone who apparently the rest of the team suspected you of dating.

Perhaps he couldn’t blame Spencer for falling for you, too.

Everyone meant well, and Aaron knew he was also victim to cutting him off when the boy rambled, but you were the only one who truly listened to him. Who would interrupt him gently during urgent matters and let him continue after they were solved, and never made him feel inadequate.

He doesn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now that JJ has mentioned it—too blindsided with his own feelings for you—but he begins to wonder, though, if there actually is something more between the two of you.

He likes to think that he begins playing close attention to your mannerism, body language, and shared interactions the two of you have throughout the entirety of the case because he has to. Now that it's been brought to his attention that two of his subordinates might be in a relationship, it's his job as Unit Chief to keep tabs.

So, he watches, when the whole team is sitting in the rectangular table, debriefing with one another and sharing ideas all whilst munching on take out food.

"So, we obviously know that the significance of the victim's being dumped in nature spots is important to this guy," Morgan explains, motioning his hand around the air as he goes on, "but could it be that he kidnaps and keeps his victims in similar spots, just somewhere more secluded?"

"Spencer and I were thinking that that could be a possibility," you say, stealing a fry off of said boy's take out plate, "Maybe he doesn't live in these same places, but he could be taking them to a hidden spot somewhere in the forests, something possibly hidden by debris, wood, or anything makeshift."

Spencer doesn't even blink as you continue to steal more neglected food off his plate, continuing to sort through pictures. Aaron could see Emily and Derek give each other a knowing, smug look through his peripheral.

He manages to swallow, the tip of his middle finger and thumb tapping against one another, "What else have you two come up with regarding the geographical profile?"

"Well, besides where he himself could be living or where he could keep his victims, the whole profile is scattered," Spencer answers this time, sliding the plate towards you as he sets down a picture of each victim with the name of the forests and parks they were found in written underneath. "The first two victims were dumped in a forest, the third in a park, and the fourth in another forest.."

As he goes on, you take advantage to continue eating, the way in which he had just let you eat off his plate despite his known phobia of germs not going unnoticed by everyone else.

If that one wasn't a sign, Aaron didn't know what else was.

*

With the geographical profile being all over the place, Aaron decides on pulling you away from the task the following day, instead pairing you up with him to check out the crime scene of the most recent victim.

He doesn't know if it's the leader in him doing so, pulling you away from your original project he had tasked you to do, or if it's just the mix of both curiosity and jealousy that continues to gnaw at him.

He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. Yet he couldn't help the way his heart churned when you hold his hand for a second longer than necessary after he helps you climb up the small, but frosty hill.

"Thanks," you mumble sweetly, your shoulders brushing against him as you walk past him and towards the await detectives.

Aaron trails behind you, trying to calm his beating heart as the lead detective on the case walks you both towards the victim's body.

"This is the second victim that's been dumped in a park," you start, squatting down to inspect the cuts and bruises on the woman's face. "These sites are obviously more public than the forests, yet he still leaves them in more secluded spots, away from general view."

"Well, we ruled out that he can't feel any remorse or sympathy," Aaron adds while he looks around the now closed off park. "He holds and tortures these women for hours."

You stand from your spot, placing your hands on your hips as you look around the park. Aaron recognizes the face you make as your 'thinking' face, your eyes squinted and your nose scrunched.

"What is it?" He asks, trying to meet your wandering gaze.

“Reid and I were talking about the possibility of the unsub dumping his victims in the same places where half—if not all—of his childhood abuse took place,” you miss the way his breath hitches in his throat and the way his shoulders sag slightly, continuing. “We know that he has to be a local here from Portland—probably raised around these same areas—and that he was abused severely as a child.”

Aaron tries his best to nod as nonchalantly as possible, “Something from his childhood obviously triggered him for him to start abducting and inflict the same pain on the victims before leaving them in similar places where he could have been left as a child after being abused.”

“Exactly,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We were theorizing around that idea for a while but weren’t too sure if the abuse could play such a huge part on his M.O.”

At the mentions of you and Reid again, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

Not only was he a grown man, but he was also your boss. And you were his subordinate, someone he should never had feelings for in the first place and someone he shouldn’t be feeling possessive over as if anything was to truly ever happen between you.

At first he had thought that Spencer wasn’t to blame for having the same feelings Aaron so strongly harbored for you. But, maybe, you weren’t the one to blame.

For falling for someone more your age, for someone you worked and paired so well with, for someone nobody else made such a grand effort to understand the way you did.

Not only was he a grown man and your boss, but he was also double your age, a single father, and a widower.

Swallowing harshly, he pulls out his phone from his suit’s inner pocket, “I’ll have Garcia check out any reported speculations of childhood abuse in these areas and see if she can narrow down our list,” He turns, using his height to his advantage and speeding off, leaving you completely behind.

You frown, rushing to catch up to him. You halt when you come to the same frosty hill he had helped you climb up and open your mouth to call for his help, but close it back up when you see he’s already made it back to the SUV and is climbing inside.

When you finally climb inside the car after successfully managing to climb down the hill without busting your ass, he’s talking with Garcia.

You wait patiently as he drives, the phone on speaker as he gives out quick orders that your friend rushes to catch up with. You try to take the chance of speaking up once he hangs up with her, but he’s quickly dialing for Rossi afterwards.

You’re quiet throughout the ride back to the precinct, the sudden change in mood too heavy for you to gather the courage to make any sort of conversation. Once parked in front of the building, he gets out right away, slamming the door while you’re barely unblocking your seatbelt.

You make a beeline to the conference room where you find Reid, no longer paying any mind on trying to find Aaron any longer.

Spencer jumps when you hurriedly slam the door behind you, eyes filling with worry when you lean against the wood and stare at the floor pensively, “You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the door and taking a seat across from him. “I just got back from the latest crime scene with Hotch and he started acting so weird after I told him about our theory of the unsub’s dumping pattern.”

“Weird how?”

You move to speak, but hesitate when you realize that going into detail about how cold your boss suddenly acted towards you after being used to receiving such kind—some might say preferable—treatment would make your friend speculate things he, of all people, did not need to speculate.

You shake your head, “Nothing. He’s probably just stressed or tired,” you drop your forehead onto the table’s cold wood, your arms stretched out in front of you. “I know I am.”

A beat of silence passes before you hear a creak and the feeling of a finger press against your index. You bite back a laugh, looking up to find Spencer leaning forward in his own seat to do a ‘finger touch,’ something you had come up with for him after realizing how persistent his germophobia was, even with the people he loved the most.

You smile at him, leaning your head on one of your forearms and pressing your finger into his.

From outside the glass-windowed office, Aaron watches you both, a solemn look on his face.

*

The case is finally closed once you and Spencer’s theory is proven right, the unsub securely put away and the green light to go home given at last. But with the late night icy weather too dangerous for the jet to take off, Aaron orders for everyone to instead turn in for the night at the hotel and head out first thing tomorrow morning instead.

He gives a silent thanks to no one in particular when he finds out it's his turn to have a room all for himself, the rotation always being cheated by Dave, Derek, or Emily that he always forgets who's next.

Shockingly enough, he's ready to turn in for the night, not even sparing an extra glance to any of the files he had brought with him as he prepares for bed. He's just about to sit down when a knock comes from behind his door, echoing throughout his room.

He lets out a quiet groan but stands nonetheless, rubbing tiredly at his face before swinging the door open. His first instinct is to snap at whoever's behind, but that's before his eyes cast over you.

You're fiddling with your fingers, dressed in your pajamas that consists of an off-the-shoulder shirt that dips low enough to show off your collarbone and the very top of your chest, your bra strap in the middle.

And, despite the chilly weather outside, you were wearing shorts. A pair of cotton shorts that peek out from underneath the shirt you were wearing and leave little to the imagination—more so, Aaron’s imagination.

Truth be told, he's seen you in a lot less. Your usual team outing outfits consisted of tank tops, baby tees, shorts, and slightly more revealing clothes.

But this, seeing you in what you would normally sleep in, sends him into a completely different spiral.

You cringe and immediately panic at the thought of having woken him up, "Sorry, were you already asleep?" you ask, taking a tentative step back.

Aaron blinks and clears his throat, the pads of his thumb and middle finger once again tapping against one another, "No," He lies. "I was barely getting ready."

Your shoulders drop and the panic dissipates as a small smile replaces it, “Oh, okay,” you bring your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels, “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright?”

Aaron’s brows furrow though he immediately steps to the side to allow you in, a soft ‘of course’ following.

He takes in the way you hesitantly step in, back facing him and arms still intertwined behind your back.

You’re being respectful, probably hoping that you’re not overstepping with whatever it is that you want to talk about. And though you always are, he can’t tell if you’re nervous, worried, or filled with insomnia that you just couldn’t sleep.

“Is everything alright?” He finally asks when you don’t make a move to sit down anywhere, his hands slightly ajar to his side like he’s ready to reach out and touch you.

God, how he wishes he could touch you.

You clear your throat and turn around, “Actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing,”

The harsh lines on Aaron’s face deepen when you take a seat on the edge of the bed, glancing beside you as a signal for him to join you.

He swallows as he does so, careful not to sit too close and award you space. His eyes flicker back up at you when he hears your breath hitch.

Seconds of silence pass before you shuffle closer to him, bringing your body forward so that you were staring at him directly.

“Are you… feeling okay?”

Aaron freezes, his movements completely stilling at your question. His mind begins to race with all the possibilities of what could have brought on your question when it clicks.

How he had concurred that you and him were completely different and could never be a possibility, and how he immediately decided that acting cold towards you would shun out the feelings he’s felt for so long now.

Another clear of his throat, he replies, “I’m fine.”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a look that shows that you know he’s not telling the truth.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time more firmly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting rather…strange ever since you and I got back from the fifth victim’s crime scene.”

Aaron cringes at how your expression turns into a sad one, quickly masking it with one of concern afterwards.

He sighs. He supposes that if there’s a possibility that you and Spencer are dating, now’s the time to ask you about it.

He makes a show of staring directly at you in the same way he does when he’s in his ‘boss mode,’ trying to study your face before he asks the question, “Is there something I should know about you and Spencer?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting.

You’re taken aback, quite literally flinching as if you had been struck. It takes you a few seconds to take in what he’s just asked you, and you shake your head almost as if it wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry?”

The desperation gnaws at him once more, and he’s not sure which side of him wants to find out the answer.

“Are you and Spencer dating?” he asks again, voice somehow unwaveringly calm as he punctuates each word clearly.

Your mouth opens in shock, letting out a sound that’s half a scoff half a broken laugh. You look around the room in utter bewilderment.

“What correlation does my relationship with Spencer have with what I asked you?” You can’t tell if you’re angry or just confused, but you stand from the bed and stare down at him.

Aaron follows your lead, “I never noticed it before until the rest of the team pointed it out, but you two are close. Close in such a way that—” He swallows, “—as your boss, I have to ask.”

Before the rest of the team pointed it out. Of course.

You fully scoff this time, “As my boss, you should know that Spencer and I have always been close,” you concur.

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you force yourself to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not looking at me, you’re getting defensive, and you’re practically avoiding the question,” he says, his own gaze practically boring into you.

“Hotch—”

“You’re deflecting by saying that I should know that you two have always been close, and while I do know that, you’re still not answering my question.”

It feels cruel of him to press you for answers like this, knowing that there was an easier way to do it.

“Reid and I are not dating!” you do your best to not shout it at him in fears of waking the rest of the team up, fists balled at your sides.

“Then why are you so nervous?” he asks, taking a step closer to you. “Why can’t you still look at me?”

“Because it’s you that I like!”

You slap your hands over your mouth immediately and the room falls silent.

Aaron blinks. Once, twice, three times.

You liked him?

You lower your hands, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears as you look around the room in a state of panic, “I-I’m just going to go,” you mumble and immediately rush towards the door.

Aaron stands the for a second, too frozen to do or say anything before his own panic settles in brazenly. His body moves before he has time to register what he's doing and what he'll do when he reaches you.

He wraps an arm around your forearm just as you open the door, halting you from stepping outside, "Y/N, wait,"

"Hotch, please," you're quick to try and release yourself from his grasp, yanking your arm towards yourself in what results as a poor attempt. "Just ignore what I said."

"I can't do that," he dips his head to try and get you to look at him but you simply avoid your gaze even more than your originally had, your cheeks flushed.

"Hotch, let me go!" you whisper-shout, once more fighting his grip. “I’m already embarrassed enough, I don’t need you chastising me anymore.”

“I’m not chastising you, Y/N,” Aaron’s sure he sounds as desperate as you probably feel, but he can’t find it in himself to let you go and ruin his one chance of bringing his feelings to the light. Even if it went against everything he had been telling himself earlier that week.

“Do you not think it’s possible for me to feel the same way?”

Your head snaps towards him, your movements suddenly rigid at his question, “W-What?”

You’re sure that, if your heart hadn’t raptured beforehand, it certainly will now.

Aaron takes you letting your guard down as the chance to bring a hand to your waist and pull you back into the room, shutting the door and thanking that nobody else from the team had emerged from the commotion.

“What do you mean by that?” you’re quick to ask, staring up at him with curious, yet hopeful eyes.

He lowers his head as to avoid your gaze this time, letting out a deep breath. Everything he wanted to do now went against everything he had told himself the day before, when he ridiculed himself for ever thinking that you would like someone such as him or that something could ever happen between you two.

“Hotch,” your voice is firm and you allow yourself to take a step closer to him. You need him to look at you, to give you some sort of clue that he didn’t just say what he said to play you, to get you to re-enter the room just so he could profile you even more. “What do you mean by that?”

Repeating your question doesn’t help him and it certainly doesn’t help the way his heart hammers in his chest, a sound so loud that he’s sure you can hear it from how close you’re standing.

“You like me?” you whisper, dipping your head to try and meet his eyes. How ironic that just a couple of seconds ago you were trying to avoid it.

Aaron shrugs, finally looking up, “How could I not?”

His boyish, yet vulnerable expression makes your breath hitch.

“I said that I had to know if there was something between you and Reid as your boss, but it was just because I was jealous,” he shakes his head, trying his best to suppress an all but amused smile. “It was immature of me, really.”

You shake your head, trying to collect both your own thoughts and everything he was telling you. He had been jealous?

“So, is that you acted that way after I told you about our theory in the park?”

The way in which he left you behind in both the park and in the parking lot of the precinct hits him like a brick, cringing at his actions, "I realized then, when you were talking about what you had both come up with, how compatible you two are. How it would make more sense for you to like someone more suited for you. I'm sorry for how I acted,"

Your heart breaks at hearing his confession, of how he, the same man you practically fell head over heels for after your first meeting, could think that he was unworthy of your attention. If you were being honest, you hadn't been hurt by the way he had acted earlier in the day, only confused as to why.

"Hotch--" you stop yourself. You take another step closer, closing the space between the both of you more and more. "Aaron,"

He snaps his head up at your usage of his first name, the way you said it so gently and naturally getting all his attention.

"I've liked you ever since I first met you," you confess. "I'll admit I was too intimidated by you to fully register what I was feeling, but the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. And I fell really hard," you let out a laugh, trying to ignore just how much you were putting on the line right now and how self-conscious you felt with his eyes boring into you.

"You've been with the BAU for three years," Aaron's voice is barely above a breathless murmur and he's sure you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't standing so close. "That's how long you've liked me for?"

You nod, lips pursed, "I never said anything because I thought you would never see me that way, let alone reciprocate my feelings. If I'm telling the truth, I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for you pressing me into telling you that I was dating Reid."

Aaron smirks despite the warmth he feels on his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a soft laugh, "Well, then I'm glad I ended up asking. Who knows how many more years we would've gone like this if I hadn't."

You both laugh, subconsciously curling towards each other when you both double over and bring yourselves even closer than before.

You stare up at him with a warm expression before casting your eyes downwards. You lift your hand to linger above his, the pads of your fingers brushing against the hairs on the back of his palm, "So, what happens now?"

Without breaking eye contact, he takes your hand in his while the other reaches for your waist once more. You let out a small yelp when he pulls you even closer, your bodies now touching and radiating the warmth you both thought you’d never be able to feel from one another.

The next few seconds are filled with bliss when he lowers his head to press his lips against yours. You’re immediately weak, letting go off his hand to place both on his shoulders as to support yourself.

The other now free hand of his comes to rest on your other hip, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts ever so possessively. A whimper escapes from your mouth and Aaron takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, doing so with so much fervor and passion that it leaves you feeling dizzy even with your eyes closed.

Aaron is relentless even after you pull away to catch your breath, the act of kissing you now something he’s inevitably hooked on. He presses kisses all over your face, from your cheek to your chin to your jaw, then all the way down to your neck.

“You know,” you cough out, flushed from the attention, “I told you how long I’ve liked you, but you didn’t tell me how long you’ve liked me.”

Aaron smiles into your skin, immediately recalling when he first realized his own feelings for you. He lifts his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips, eliciting a hum from you.

“I can tell you all the details over either a nice dinner tomorrow evening after we land,” he says, another kiss to your lips. He turns your bodies around so that his back was to bed, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sits. “Or you can spend the night here and we can stay up all night talking about it.”

His voice is sultry, and the way in which he grabs at your hips to get you to straddle him makes you flush.

“Are you already trying to seduce me?” you ask, mock offense in your tone though you happily take your guided seat on his lap, both knees on each side of his thighs.

Aaron hums this time, brushing your hair back to begin kissing at your neck again, “Can you blame me?”

He already knows your answer, he’s sure. He knows you can’t, because he can’t, either.

[ham1lton]

nepo sister?

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader (no faceclaim).

summary: your sister is one of the most famous f1 drivers in history and when she suddenly has a barrage of hate and online users comparing her to a certain lando norris, you’ve gotta step in and sort it out. you couldn’t foresee the man in question being into you.

warnings: jokes about adoption but it’s lighthearted. also mentions of racism and sexism. also y/n bullying poor lando in defence of her sister.

author’s note: as i do with requests, i put my own little spin on it! hope u enjoy 💕also i used aaliyah as your sister’s faceclaim but she’s your adopted sister so y/n is still pretty much whoever you view her to be. i refer to yn’s older sis as o/s. in case you were wondering who tf that is. reminder that requests are currently still open!

edit: now part of a series ! <3

liked by oldersister, yourbffsuser and 20,873 others.

yourusername: why is my sister so dramatic? she picked me up from the airport in a FUR jacket in a LIMO? also this cat is evil. genuinely evil. cat satan. catan?

view all 2,828 comments

oldersister: i was at an EVENT! 😭 you’re lucky i even picked your ass up anyways 🙄🖕🏾

-> user1: their dynamic is so funny.

user2: y/n in melbourne for the grand prix??? 😍

user4: o/s looks sooo good 😍😍😍

user3: the cat is so cute 🥺

-> yourusername: no need to lie bae ❤️

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liked by zendaya, oldersister and 627,982 others.

yourusername: my sister before, during and after the race. plus our dad!! he’s new to this ig shit so be nice or i’ll bulldoze your grandma. let me start by just say something… my sister is one of the best drivers in the world. i see a lot of people cussing her out and all i’m gonna say is don’t pmo. she’s my sister but even besides that, her multiple historic accolades speak for themselves. quit playing with your misogynistic and racist shit before i drag your whole lineage.

view all 98,938 comments

oldersister: stop being so aggressive 🙄 but thank you. love you.

-> yourusername: posted this to cover the fact i spent $82 on fast food using your card 😘

-> oldersister: that’s it? that’s not the worst you’ve done tbf.

hater1: be real. lando is better than o/s in every shape and form. it’s just a fact.

-> yourusername: so why is o/s a two-time world champion and lando isn’t?

user1: SPEAK ON IT!!! 🗣️🔈

hater2: o/s is overrated.

-> yourusername: snore. ass take. come up with something original and not completely false.

user2: y/n said might i suggest you don’t fuck with my sis!!!

-> user6: she’s in her solange era 😭

user3: is this because someone said y/n was worse than lando?

-> yourusername: like 🤣 don’t ever compare the two. o/s is a world champion and lando is… lando.

-> landonorris: NO CAUSE WHY AM I IN THIS???? 😭

liked by charles_leclerc, tomholland and 283,928 others

landonorris: just woke up to my name trending on twitter. what you say fuck me for 😭😭 stop using my name to drag my fellow drivers i’m begging you.

view all 77,929 comments

user1: no cause if anything these haters are lando antis and not o/s antis. they set your ass up omgggg. pure insane hate.

user2: fighting for my life defending you.

user3: the three diff angles of the same george crying vid is crazy work ngl.

-> georgerussell63: no cause HE got dragged and now he’s setting ME up.

-> user3: dw king. find solace in that he either searched google purely for this photo or had them saved onto his phone. haters nowadays are fans in denial.

-> landonorris: nah i’m just a hater.

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liked by landonorris, oldersister and 726,733 others.

yourusername: i met lando nowins. i guess he’s cool.

view all 230,928 comments

oldersister: now that’s just not right.

-> landonorris: i know!! after the four hour long convo y/n and i had, she still drags me 😔💔

-> oldersister: i wasn’t talking about that. i’m talking about the picture she chose for me. why did she use that photo after catching me off guard??? and if you know y/n, get ready for the bullying. she does it to all her loved ones.

user2: HELPJSJSJAKA

user3: this is the content i follow you for y/n.

*liked by yourusername.*

[luveline]

Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3

Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed. 

Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile. 

You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again. 

But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell. 

You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.   

“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?” 

“I wouldn’t say struggling.” 

“You don’t need any help, then?” 

“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”

“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.” 

Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says. 

“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully. 

“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him. 

“Thank you for helping.” 

He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully. 

Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly. 

“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”

Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers. 

“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”

Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that. 

“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.

Not that nice.