#just went through my files and got reminded of this :D

[acourtofthought]

tell me what you think about this...

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1JyAGtTbgNGCdEb2iMbTtMkbUq66vF91z/view

I love your posts, they are divine.

Thank you so much!!!

What I have to say about the google doc is that they did a nice job putting together their points in the format they did!

But I don't agree with any of it.

Az did get Elain a rose necklace after the many mentions of Elain and roses but I wouldn't say roses are more special to Elain than any other flower just because they're symbolic of her.

It was the tulip fields she wanted to visit in book 1, the tulip bulbs she was talking to Feyre about in ACOTAR and it was those flower fields Nesta reminded us she had wanted to visit in SF.

Roses are kind of the obvious answer on "what to get a girl" when you're getting her something flower related , it's the top most purchased flower on Valentines Day after all.

And roses are used for Elain by the author in the same way that she describes Nesta like a wolf or Lucien like a fox. It's fun imagery and all that but not necessarily how the character would refer to themselves.

Roses are beautiful of course but I don't think it was all that clever of Az to select a rose charm when any one of them could have said "Elain likes flowers so I'll bet she'll like this rose necklace!". Had Az himself been clever enough to think "This charm is perfect for her because of how she is constantly sitting by the sunniest of windows and the charm also needs light to come alive" than he would have earned points for that. Or "Nesta underestimates her inner depth just like it's easy to miss with this charm but it's truth will be revealed just as Elain's will!" Instead it's the reader who draws the comparison, not him.

"Nesta, Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you my cunning, little queen. You shall wed for conquest."

First off, saying Elain will marry Az because he's the prettiest of the bat boys according to Feyre and Nesta is so superficial I can't believe it's even an argument. And what the sisters think of Az has literally no meaning at all compared to what Elain thinks of Az. Feyre might have thought Az was the most classically beautiful out of Cassian and Az but it was Rhys who was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Elain is the "prettiest" of the three sisters but Rhys thought Feyre was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. When the King of Hybern and Amren (a being 15,000 years old) referenced Lucien's attractiveness, I'd say that if Elain married him she'd have no complaints about the hotness of her mate who is made sexier by a scar down his face which is a testament of how he stood up to Amarantha.

Second.....Nesta talks about how her mother would roll over in her grave to find out she'd married an untitled fae male. When Nesta defied her mother and the expectations she forced on her.....why is anyone under the impression Elain would follow through with what her mother thought of her?

The reason Elain's mother thought she'd marry for love and beauty is because her mother didn't think she was capable of anything else. You'd think a true Elain stan would want to prove that she was worth more than marrying someone just because of her or their physical appearance.

Oh, we're romanticizing "polite, BLAND" smiles now?

Az did go a bit still went Elain entered the room in ACOWAR. Then proceeded to look at Mor with hunger and yearning in the novella. Let's compare that to Lucien could barely breathe when he first got a true look at Elain because she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen........and how Lucien looks at only HER with longing after that.

Feyre did predict Elain would cling to Az for peace and quiet. But since when does a truly happy Elain want just peace and quiet? Certainly not the Elain who personally greeted each guest at the ball, danced with all the important lords sons, who can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles, who can make friends easily, who stayed up until the wee hours of the morning at the ball surrounded by a circle of friends (flushed and brilliant) when both Feyre and Nesta were over it.

You know what else Feyre predicted? That Amren and Nesta would become fast friends which they did......until they weren't. Amren is not Nesta's found family, Emerie and Gwyn are. So if Feyre got that part wrong.......

In ACOWAR, Elain wanted to go home which was her home in the human lands. If she changed that in SF and called Rhys and Feyre's manor her home because that's been the only real option she's had to call home since being turned fae......why can't that change again in her book?

Nesta didn't find her true home until the book where she ended up with her love interest. Feyre didn't find her true home until the book she accepted her mating bond. Logic stands to reason that Elain will find her true home in her book too.

So I'm supposed to believe that Elain not eating, drinking sleeping or leaving her room for MONTHS until Lucien arrived and demanded they get her outside means nothing but Az who discovered she was a Seer is indicative of true love? Her Seer powers are not a thing that was wrong with her, he guessed the gift she was given. That's like someone giving me a present on Christmas and I shake the box while asking for hints until I figure it out. I'll never, ever, EVER be convinced that Az gave a shit about Elain during her depression considering he was excited to go to the Hewn City rather than stay back to guard Elain at her lowest. Considering he did not once ask Feyre how she was feeling, how she was doing, considering he did not once express concern over her lack of eating, sleeping, drinking, I think it's safe to say him being able to say "you're a seer!" doesn't mean much at all. Rhys was the one to discover Nesta's real power, does that mean he truly loves Nesta?

So I'm to understand that eavesdropping between two people while one is still going through depression and the other is trying for the very first time to reach out through their bond is supposed to be a comfortable situation? It was uncomfortable because Elain and Lucien were forced to sit together while everyone around them was being nosy as fuck. It wasn't a first date or anything but can you imagine trying to have a moment with someone while your two sisters and two others in the household are pretending to be busy while being completely aware they're listening to your every breath?

Feyre only THINKS that maybe Az understood what Elain was going through when she was hearing voices. Just like only Cassian truly understood what Feyre went through after spending years hungry. Does that mean Cassian should be with Feyre instead of Rhys because Rhys never went hungry?

Az has blushed for Elain, Mor, and Nesta in the book. Tharion blushed at Hypaxia. Someone other than Lorcan blushed over something Elide had said. I'm not getting their point.

Of course Elain tells her fucking fiance that having a mate means nothing to her. These are the best arguments they've got? Nesta didn't even want to tell Cassian he was her mate after falling in love and having copious amounts of sex.

Az did say, "what about Elain?". Then just stood there. It was Nesta who stared at him then went running for Elain's tent. And he did say he was getting her back....after Cassian first said he would but couldn't and Nesta laid down the challenge saying no one could make it into his camp. Az does love to prove himself the hero, does he not? Also, Az hid in Feyre's shadows, I'd say she's more responsible for Elain's rescues. Compared to Lucien who was willing to fight his way without power to try to get to the Night Court, the home of the most powerful High Lord ever to live and through Autumn where he knew he had a metaphorical (literal?) bounty on his head.

That was an amazing scene for Elain, was it not? Saving Briar. Saving Az. And something Az never once gave her credit for.

No, Az stayed seated when Eris made mention of Elain. He only exploded when Eris mentioned Mor. I can't believe they're trying to claim Az's anger was "built up".

Yup....CASSIAN offered Elain a knife first, not Az. Glad to know Az just stood by watching someone else do something for Elain first yet again. I guess it's a good thing Mor begged Az, with tears in her eyes, to sit out of battle. Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered offering Elain TT at all.

Her smile did lighten Az's shadows. Just like Az confirming that the shadows tend to vanish around her. Just like they are afraid of the sunlight. Considering he tells us they are his companions....why would he want them to disappear?

Yes....a female always wants to be responsible for making a male think of and being compared to his mother. Super sexy.

OH MY GOD! TRUE LOVE!!!!! She smiled at Az because she appreciated Az making a joke in response to Cassian's comment!!!! Men and women cannot just smile at one another without falling in forever love!!!!!!!!

Yes, so special "I've never participated in one of these" and Az says.......NOTHING. Such exciting conversation!

Az could have been staring at the garden thinking of Elain and her bond with Lucien and how he's jealous of Lucien because why did Lucien get a bond when he didn't. But then he went on to blush at Mor and stare at her with hunger. I don't know....maybe it's just me and my silly little romantic heart but I don't really enjoy a male who is fixated on two women at the same time.

However, if Az was interested in Elain, why did he ask Rhys if he needed to get her a gift than look relieved when Rhys said no?

Did they purposely put the "why not make them mates" under the wrong slide to make it look like it happened later in the series? That was ACOWAR, not ACOFAS. In ACOFAS Feyre tells Elain LUCIEN is a good male and why couldn't she talk to him? She repeats that Lucien is a good male (says nothing of Az) and tells Mor she wants them to be happy. Mor says both Lucien and Elain need time and that they will be happy.

Yes yes, SF. The book where Az gives Elain zero credit for anything, doesn't bother checking on "her", avoids her because HE can't handle her bond, can't admit to Rhys that he's over Mor, can't admit to Rhys that he's not just using Elain for sex, calls her a mistake before talking to Rhys and feels a spark in his chest over another females happiness.

I think I covered it all, right?

[roamingtigress]

So I had a dream where the ladies went out shopping and Tilly assigned me duty of watching the men. I apparently thought it was a great idea to go around petting everyone and this is how it went (I try to remember to jot down all my dreams in a notepad file): Jack: Jack BIT me. Yelled "mean mean mean!" and also kicked my shins and ran away somewhere before I could react. Kid was feral. John: Thought I was weird. I patted him on the shoulder. He accused me of 'you probably eat babies!" I told him I was vegetarian and he was like 'wtf is a vegetarian' and when I explained to him he was even more 'yeah, you eat babies!' Like . . . Did he think babies are vegetables?! I asked him if he thought his own kid was a rutabaga and he just stared at me and said 'that confirms it, you eat babies.' I apparently eat babies with my salads. Dutch: He was surprisingly shy (!) and then when I called him 'aw Babygirl Kitten Whiskers" he blushed and got all softy and booped his forehead against mine. I booped him on the nose when he sort of bit me when I was scratching his chin. Proceeded to follow me around camp, I kept an arm around his waist and kept petting him and anytime I touched him around waist/belly he leaned into me. Attention whore. Arthur: Kind of liked it at first, and then after a moment he was all "I got a satchel to make!" in the same tone as "you sir are a fish!" So I petted him when he worked on a satchel and was all 'i hear you're one of those vegetabletarians, I could help you find some wild carrots!" essentially mocked me :P Word spread through the camp quickly about the wild carrots. Pearson: Threw a fish at me and said 'this isn't a petting zoo, why are you petting everyone?' :D Hosea: Yelled 'you slut' and at first I thought it was directed at me but no it was his husband and while he was OK with me petting Dutch, he reminded him of who he belonged to. When I petted Hosea he was like 'why are you petting me' and then came around to liking it (I rubbed his shoulders) and the three of us went around the camp. Micah: Micah BIT me and laughed at me and said something like you know there's a place and time for petting, heeheeheee." Charles: Understandably weirded out by some stranger touching him as anyone would be, but happily mocked me, telling me there's some Yarrow outside camp that I could have with my wild carrots. All of them teased me about wild carrots. Thanks, Arthur. Uncle: I patted him on the head and he was amused, telling me that if I'm not careful, I could start something :D Reverend Swanson: I think he was weirded out but didn't resist much. Gave me a look, took a swig of whisky and continued to read the bible. Kieran: :( Ran and hid under a wagon before I could give pets. He was still among those who teased me about wild carrots from his hiding place, that his horse needs them. Javier: Got weirded out as I decided to pet him while playing the guitar (dream me apparently has no boundaries). He stopped playing for a moment and decided to play duelling banjos with Sean. Sean: 'Aye, I could tell you're part Irish from how you touch me, fkin hell!" He liked it. Gave me a bottle of Irish whisky and I drank it in one go. He was amazed. Bill: Drunk and passed out on a table but I still gave pets. Trelawny: Went in hiding with Kieran.

[theoldst4rv1ng]

I’ve finally been told who it was who gr00med and abused me when I was 13. I don’t know how to process this information. I always assumed I’d been a victim of something bigger, more sinister, like some b@stard who would sell the pictures on the dark web or some dirty c*nt who doesn’t wash and lives in his mum’s spare bedroom. I never thought it would be someone who appears on the outside as being a respectable member of the community, a teacher, a kids football coach.

159. That’s how many named victims there were. ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY NINE. Children aged 9-16 who this man targeted, manipulated and then blackmailed into sending to most disgusting images and videos. I was probably by comparison one of his tamer targets, got off lightly. And I was one of the first in his campaign to destroy the lives of innocent little girls. I was gr0omed in October 2013. This man wasn’t caught, charged and sentenced until 2022. Nearly a decade after he took my life.

I’ll never forget the threats, the way he was able to gain information about me- where I lived, the school I went to, people in my classes. Turns out it was because he would coach kids in my year football and found me through them. Posing as a teenage boy, he infiltrated my home and destroyed my life in less than a day. I’ll never forget the panic I felt as the lies and the blackmail starting pinging into my phone “I know where you live” “everyone in your school will see this” “I will hurt your little brother … unless you send me that next photo in 10 seconds”. Now being an adult I want to go back and shake myself and shout that he’s lying that he’s trying to trick me. But I can also see how a girl only a teenager by 2weeks would be wracked with fear and guilt because of the messages he sent. The threats were relentless.

I will also always remember the police, and how they treated me when I finally broke down to my parents and they called them. I am disgusted at how I was treated by those pigs who were meant to be helping me. The policeMAN who came barely knew what he was doing and was more concerned with making me feel like a naughty little girl than finding the person who had assaulted me. Quick reminder that I WAS A CHILD AND A VICTIM yet the policeMAN felt that reminding me sending pictures of someone under 16 is illegal and I shouldn’t be doing that is more important.

They took me into an interrogation room. To do a statement as a child victim of online grooming they took me into an interrogation room. I was a vulnerable and abused child and they were treating me like a criminal. The rest is just a blur, a horrific nightmare of a blur. Then

Silence

Completely nothing for 10 fucking years. In that time I have attempted 3 times to end it, developed eating d!s0rders, self/h4rm3d for years. I’m manically depressed and I have an anxiety disorder. He ruined my childhood, he ruined my life.

My dad works in the prison service with s3x offenders and heard whispers about this man who was coming in to the prison, how horrific and strangely localised his targets were. Daddy did some digging, and found the interrogation transcripts and the files on the case and read every single page. The language he used, the way he would target the girls, the way he would blackmail them into sending more and more and more. The names he was using as aliases matched the person who targeted me. It was him. Dad watched JONATHAN CLARKE in court as he plead guilty to 181 offences against an identified 159 victims (estimates of more victims go over 200) and sentenced to 19years in prison. Unfortunately I didn’t find any of this out until a year after sentencing (yesterday to be exact) because my parents were waiting for me to be more mentally stable before telling me. Yesterday I brought the subject up with my mum and she cracked and told me he’d been caught but my case was, as far as we know, not used.

One of my parent’s friends has a little girl who went to court and testified against him. She’s 13 now, NINE when she was targeted. There a going to be countless friends, family members, acquaintances, colleagues of mine who know people, children, who were his victims. Daddy got him moved from the prison here to the Isle of White because there would likely be prison staff and other inmates who have children/family members/friends who were his victims.

I can’t explain the level of rage I feel. The level of disgust and hatred. But also relief. Being made to feel like I was to blame for so long, being forced into a mindset of self ridicule and blame by the police meant that when I found out it wasn’t just me, I grossly felt relief. Relief that I wasn’t the one to blame, that it was a dirty sick p3v3rt who was the bad guy. Relief that it wasn’t just me. But now I can’t get his mugshot out of my mind, I can’t stop thinking that those foul eyes saw all of me, took away my innocence, my dignity, my self worth. EVERYTHING. He took everything from me.

Now what do I do?

I want to hurt him. I want him to go through the pain I went through. Slice away at his skin, starve him for days then when he does eat force him to throw it all up. Take him to inches away from death then pump his stomach and force him to face the world or torture again. I have never felt this level of seething rage before, at least not to another person. It’s quite scary. But what am I doing in reality? Sitting in the bath with my cat sat on the edge writing a blogpost to nobody. Signed off sick from work with anxiety. Dosed up to the eyeballs on sedatives and mood stabilisers. I am so close to fading away it’s comical. So what do I do?

[starboundanon]

I’m happy you’re enjoying my comments on Ao3. I always feel that I leave out so much that I’d like to say because your writing is deep and thoughtful, and I could go sentence by sentence. I’ve been having Miscellaneous Thoughts too (and mostly rhetorical questions), like:

Obi-Wan: Why did he decide to see Anakin after 17 years? Because Luke was nearly an adult (and wouldn’t be subject to Anakin’s influence) and was graduating and going to travel? This might be the only time father and son could get to know each other, and Obi-Wan still has a soft spot for Anakin. Along with the letters, did Obi-Wan bring photos of Luke?

Did Obi-Wan have any influence in getting Anakin released or was it all Palpatine? (Oh, please, I hope Palpatine’s visits weren’t conjugal ones 🫣) Did Anakin’s terms of parole include having a place to live and that’s why Obi-Wan invited him? Is Anakin required to get work? Is Palps paying him? And…and…okay, when Anakin is sexually aroused and left unsatisfied with Luke, does he…I mean…do he and Obi-Wan…is that what they do at night and when Luke’s at school??? LMAO, that’s not a serious question. Or maybe it is. :D

I won’t make this too long but here are little things I didn’t comment on in Chapter 1: Luke seeing that Anakin left his boots on and Obi-Wan didn’t scold him. (In another chapter, Anakin’s duffel took over Obi-Wan's favorite chair.) And, hmm, Obi coming out of the bathroom wiping his face (I’m sure there was nothing untoward about that, cough). Anakin’s reaction when Obi touched Luke’s shoulder (and Luke noticing) (twice). That Obi-Wan owns a floral-patterned comforter. Obi (like God) banishing himself and Luke to their rooms because the living area belongs to Anakin. Luke being excited and horrified about sneaking out (oh just wait, darlin’) but it wasn’t like they were doing anything ILLEGAL. When Luke and Anakin see each other for the first time, I was reminded of the first Godfather movie when Michael sees Apollonia and a man tells him they call it “struck by a thunderbolt”. Love at first sight. Or at least lust on Luke’s part.

I like to imagine the first time they have privacy and sleep together and wake up together. The first time that Luke initiates sex and touches Anakin’s enormous cock. Anakin would be over the moon. But THEN I thought - no, no, the best moment will be the first time Luke touches Anakin’s FACE. That would be the loving gesture that would melt Anakin into a puddle. 🫠

God, I love thinking about this pair. There’s a specific one-shot I’d like to write and maybe I will after your story is over (sob) because I don’t want to intrude on any scenes you’re planning. There needs to be more AniLuke and VaderLuke stories and I hope you write others. Maybe even occasional one-shots in this universe. 🫶🏼 ���

SSB, you flatter me so much, I'm absolutely charmed. This is perhaps one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about my writing, and I am so incredibly honored that you feel this way!

For your first question, we will actually get into that during the fic itself, so I can't spoil too much. But you've basically hit the nail on the head, lol. I don't think Obi-Wan brought any photos of Luke, but I do think he made sure Anakin flipped through the family photo album at some point. And if he noticed a few photos missing afterwards, he didn't say anything. He figures he owes Anakin that much.

Anakin's terms of parole absolutely included having a place to live, hence the pullout couch. Obi-Wan most likely helped with the parole process (provided proof of residence, picking him up, exit interview, etc) but he didn't have anything to do with filing for the appeal that got Anakin out — that was all Palpatine. And since old Sheev went to all this trouble to get him released, I think he's fully expecting Anakin to come work for him again. Anakin doesn't have much choice honestly, but that's fine with him; he's still loyal to Palpatine, regardless of what may or may not have happened during those prison visits. ;)

Lmao, personally I don't think Anakin and Obi-Wan are indulging themselves behind Luke's back, despite how hot and bothered Anakin usually is after having playtime with his son. Anakin's still harboring a lot of resentment for his brother/father figure and I think he only has eyes for Luke, and despite how pent-up and blueballed he's gotta be at this point, he knows the pay-off will be more than worth it.

I looove all the little details you noticed in chapter 1, that just warms my heart. 😭♥ I'm very grateful that you would take the time to so carefully read (and reread!) something I wrote. It can take hours and hours to crank out these chapters, and only minutes to consume them, so it is so validating and flattering and heartwarming when someone like you takes the time to not only take in every sentence, every word, but go out of your way to comment on them. I so appreciate you!!

I can't wait to explore some of these softer moments you've described, especially the ones that are happening sooner rather than later 😈 And please please please, if you're feeling inspired to write, do not wait for me!! I would never feel intruded on, especially since I am tonguing the dry well of the vaderluke / analuke tag after every update, just hoping more people will start writing for this ship 😭

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

AU: undercover!jeanist as a villain/vigilante during the afo arc, when hawks 'kills' him (ignoring canon for a hot second) and gives a quirk-duplicated body to dabi to make a nomu.

here is my list of Things That Happen during this, done with grammar for reading purposes

Undercover!Jeanist dyes his hair black with silver streaks, and goes by the villain name 'Kugutsu'. He goes for a punk-ish vibe, and his fake quirk is 'Marionette Strings'- which are strings that are tied to his joint areas. Like an actual marionette. 'Kugutsu' can control the strings and make them longer. The strings themselves are a type of wire (which jeanist can control with his quirk). His face also gains an uncanny valley type of look.

During his time undercover, Jeanist keeps a downloaded file of Shinya's (albehwkjanc whats the word for this) missed phonecall message. He listens to it and tells pre-recorded Edgeshot how he is. This can be taken in both an angst and whump directions.

Meanwhile, Edgeshot is both

a) worried

b) CONVINCED that the hpsc is hiding Tsunagu from him.

Hawks is not helping with this.

And then Dabi's Dance (aka: Theater Kid Reveals His Parentage, On Live TV, To The Unsuspecting People Of Japan) happens! And the reveal that Hawks handed over Jeanist's (thought to be dead) body over to the LOV! Which- we all know what happens to dead bodies in the hands of the Good Doctor, don't we?

So does Shinya. Our fav ninja goes into denial and grieving. He's hoping for the best, but also emotionally preparing himself for the worst. He's also PISSED at Hawks, who honestly I think should be included in this. Hawks is also going through some shit. All the characters in this AU are going through it at one point or another.

Meanwhile, Undercover!Jeanist is going Through Some Shit. He's gathered some [insert useful information here], but at some costs. He's being kinda dehumanized here, due to his villain/vigilante name meaning 'puppet'. And his whole strings thing. Emotional hurts are happening. Physical hurts too, since he's got no doctor or medic. Any wounds he gets, he's on his own.

Skip to the high end nomus, because this is honestly something i've been working on for an entire, very long, car ride and I don't think anon asks can handle that much words.

Edgeshot is canonically at the raid team! And I have no idea if he fights the nomus or not, but... nya

He sees one thin nomu. It has muscle threads extending from it's fingers. And it can speak. The first thing it says to him is: "...Shinya?"

And it's got Tsunagu voice.

-story anon

im ending this here because i honestly need to sleep soon, lmao. hello again, eclair!! :D

Ehehe hello again :D!!

THIS!

THIS IS THE GOOD SHIT RIGHT HERE.

I cannot express enough how much I love all of this.

I’d give all my thoughts but I currently no energy no brain, just happy about this- so just know that I think this is absolutely *chefs kiss* immaculate and is precisely the fuel for my angsty lil brain that it needs >:)

But also, my dear friend, you must stop feeding me ideas for new aus, my list is long enough as it isss!!! I already have a nomu!Jeanist au, brain shouldn’t be allowed another it’ll explode!!!! /j /lh (please never stop sending these in, I am absolutely in love with these thoughts)

On another note, this reminded me of a thought I had about a year(I think?) ago, before all the manga stuff happened, and I was in serious denial about bj disappearing….I had a thought that was “okay but what if the body was a fake and Tsunagu actually went into hiding and made a fake name with different hair and different attitude”……which is basically exactly this!!! Which I thought was a nice lil thing :)

I found the note I made!^^ (ignore the fact that I didn’t like hawks much at this point bc I was so salty at the fact he “killed” bj- I love the lil bird man now-)

[callsignmuse]

THE MYTHIC BITCHES

Season 1, Episode 8 - Secrets Out

Cast: Sadie “Siren” Matthews, Bailey “Muse” Thompson, Phoenix, Rooster, Hangman, Bob, Coyote

Warning: drinking, some language as always, rival football teams lol 

Summary: Football season arrives at the Mythic House

Sadie “Siren” Matthews: 

Bob had cooked a wonderful breakfast giving me the morning off from my mother of the group duties. I was sitting at the table with Coyote and Lauren. 

“Remind me why we’re always here again?” She asked sarcastically. 

“This house is our mecca it’s where we always hang out. Don’t like it? You’re welcome to leave.” I snapped. Coyote chuckled behind his hand trying to hide his obvious entertainment. 

“Not sure Brad would like that.” She tried to gain some ground. 

“Honey I wouldn’t worry about it, he’s busy with Bailey at the moment.” I dismissed her stupid remark as I filed my nails just adding to my pettiness. 

“So how’s class going? Isn’t it almost done?” Coyote asked. 

“Yeah, it’s going good Rooster is surprisingly a good teacher.” I laughed. It was shock to us all who knew the real him. He was goofy and often forgetful so him being a focused teacher with a lesson plan was a welcomed change. 

“I heard Bailey got her ass kicked by you yesterday” Bob mentioned making me smile that he cared about my scores in training. 

“She was a little distracted.” I sang the last word knowing that the thought of Rooster chasing after her made her nervous. 

“Wait Rooster is a teacher? And you guys are in his class?” Lauren clarified. 

“The Mythics are in his class.” Bob placed down a plate full of eggs in the center of the table. We always ate family style so we began to dig in immediately. 

“I wouldn’t mess with that if I were you.” Coyote warned her. 

“And what are you going to do?” She fought back. 

“It’s not what I’ll do it’s what Bailey won’t do.” Coyote tried to remind Lauren who she was dealing with. I sighed deeply before joining in. 

“You’re not getting it sweetheart Rooster is her one. You know the one in a million find, she would stop at nothing to protect him. They’ve fought in battle together, do you really think you can get in between that? And why would you want to?” I was on a roll. I could’ve kept going but Bob shut me up with a forkful of eggs that he gently fed me. 

“You’re messing with bitches of mythic proportions they shoot down people in fighter jets for a living. I’d choose a fight I could win.” Bob weighed in having my back making me feel a burst of loyalty towards him. Bob never stopped turning more and more into a perfect man. 

“Precisely right Bobby Boy.” I agreed once I swallowed. 

“Yo! It’s game day!” Jake’s loud voice boomed as he walked in throwing his arms up in excitement. He carried two cases of beer one in each hand. Phoenix carried in a bag full of different types of chips. She looked so docile and content next to her man. Football season was busy at our house due to everyone’s conflicting teams. You had Jake and Bailey who bled blue for the Cowboys. I was a diehard for Washington. Coyote was obviously a Saints fan. Rooster was all for the Eagles. Bob was clearly rooting for the Niners this year. Phoenix didn’t care. So Thursday through Monday we watched football. And on Sundays we went all day with the different matchups from noon till night. 

“Where’s my Big D partner in crime?!” Jake exclaimed as he looked around finding Bailey nowhere in sight. She was usually up by now already dressed in her jersey with a beer in hand ready to go. Football was something that Muse and I went hard for. It was something that the guys fell head over heels for because they had a place to watch it on a giant flat screen. We had one in the living room and one mounted outside in the backyard. We played the games on both tvs all day. I would hate for someone to miss a moment. Since todays weather was beautiful we would most likely be outside grilling all day. 

“She’s still in bed with Bradshaw. He came over last night to start smoking the brisket. So him and Lauren stayed over. I think Muse was up with him during the night.” Bob explained as he went to start making the queso. 

“Well that just won’t do!” He complained with a shocked expression as he marched down the hall. Everyone laughed as soon as he banged loudly on the door. They knew that Muse was not a morning person. “ITS GAME DAY!” He yelled through the wooden door. 

“Fuck off Hangman!” Her small voice could be heard all the way down the hall. 

“I’ve got beer.” Jake sung trying to entice her. 

“Give me five minutes!” She yelled back. Jake returned with a satisfied expression. 

“What? It’s game day!” He defends himself. 

“So I’ve heard.” I laughed. 

Bailey flipped off Hangman on sight before falling into his arms for a large hug. She grabbed the beer out of his hands and began to drink quickly. Jake just looked on with satisfaction. They were the most bro-ish football pair you could find. 

Bob had given me a kiss before dismissing me to go sit outside and enjoy myself. “I’ve got it all darling don’t you worry. Go sit and spend time with the girls.” He had demanded softly. I had to admit how much he had just won me over all over again. He understood me without me even having to speak. 

“I have to tell you, I’m head over heels man.” I admitted as I sipped my drink sitting in between Phoenix and Muse. We were keeping Rooster company before the game started as he worked the grill. 

“Bobby is so good to you how could you not fall for him?” Bailey wondered. 

“It’s kind of impossible to resist the power of Robert Floyd.” Phoenix chimed in as she smirked behind her glass of wine. 

Lauren sat across from us listening to everything as if she could figure out how to take us down by the gossip we gave her. But nothing could break Bob and I. The only thing that would end up broken would be her nose. 

Rooster swooped down and gave Bailey a kiss on the lips. “My Muse.” He hummed against her soft cheeks. He went back inside to get the rest of the marinades and rubs. Once the door was closed Lauren pounced. 

“So I heard you’re dating your teacher.” She introduced the topic with an evil glee to her tone. Muse instantly gripped the chair tighter. 

“I will destroy you.” She growled behind clenched teeth. 

“So you’re so insecure that you’d ruin his career after all of the years of hard work and risking his life just so you can prove what? That you’re inappropriately in love with your cousin?” Phoenix snapped. I had to catch my breath, she came back with retort so fast. 

“It’s not a smart move. Can I as you a question?“ I wondered. 

“I- I uh yeah.” 

We had tripped her up she had no idea we would all come for her. 

“Do you need to get laid because I can get you someone in like an hour.” I told her honestly. I heard Muse scoff next to me. 

“I’m not in love with Brad.” She was still caught up on that comment from earlier and her brain couldn’t move past it. “I just don’t think you’re anywhere close to good enough.”

“Call him Brad one more time. It literally gives me stomach pain to hear it.” Bailey was about to go off. 

The door opened and Rooster led the guys into the yard. Lauren was saved by the bell. 

“Sleep with your fucking eyes open.” Bailey threatened her. Her voice was level. That meant she was serious. I even gulped. 

I don’t know how but we managed to get through a few hours without any more potential death matches. I think mostly due to the football games actually starting giving Bailey a distraction.

When the Cowboys scored and Hangman celebrated with Muse I noticed Lauren with a lingering gaze over the blonde. He had his glasses over his eyes and his dog tags bouncing on the top of his shot v neck. Now everyone who knew Hangman knew how insane his body was. His abs were showing even through the shirt. That’s when the idea hit me. We need to play dirty. Game on, bitch.

[xarrixii]

Cinder_08 : "Dawn" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

Kiddo? Someone poked into his mind. R&D is looking for you, kid.

Harlow’s eyes fluttered open to Liam staring down at him. When Harlow didn’t really do anything, Liam went to shake his shoulder. To which he promptly shot up and caught Liam’s wrist. “Don’t fucking⸺ GAH, hah⸺ Damn it,”

“Yeah, I told them to be careful when fucking with your blood like that.” Liam helps Harlow lay gently back down. Every cell of his body was on fire.

Liam steps back, looking out the bedroom door. Harlow assumed it was a bedroom, anyway. Everything about it was plain and like an average studio in the city. He was suddenly reminded of trying to help Raiden look for one of those a year back. Of course, the apprenticeship didn’t make nearly enough for even the most basic of places.

“You alright if I let in R&D? Get you one that works?” Liam gestured to his own sleeve, and Harlow slowly picked at the bed.

“Only if you test it.”

“We can turn off the key at any time, it’s just a matter of yours didn’t have the technology in it.”

Harlow sighed, and Liam disappeared down the corridor, coming back with some random guy who looked straight out of one of those tech movies, every tool they could ever need somewhere on them. Their sleeve was plain, like the one in the truck.

“Can I take off your glove?” Harlow almost forgot he had switched back to a glove the moment he’d had the chance.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just don’t go yanking him around, Ainsley fucked him up good last night.”

“If you trusted Ainsley to do anything carefully, Liam, that was your first mistake.” Harlow groaned as whoever this was pulled off the glove over his hand and gently fit the new red and black sleeve over his arm. “Nice job with Hayfuck’s Scam Deposits, by the way.”

“Thank you⸺”

“Not you, Liam, you didn’t do anything. Leaving the two new guys to do the fighting is never the primary agenda, it’s like Boss wanted it to fail.”

“I’ve learned to stop questioning her choice of judgment.”

Harlow tried to slowly sit up. “I feel as though I’ve missed something crucial.”

“Yeah, it’s called getting Boss to trust you to be an asset to Cinder.”

“That’s strange, I thought being sent to prison was a form of endearment.”

Whoever the person was chuckled. “Name’s Dawn. She/her. Welcome to Cinder. Liam told you about your entrance exam yet?”

“The bank wasn’t the entrance exam?”

“That was the internship.”

“What’s the exam, then?”

“You just fight other people,” Liam shut the room’s door, strolling back over, rummaging through a bedside table and pulling out a file. “Basically saying, ‘here’s what I came here to do, here’s proof that I can do it.’ ”

Dawn got a screwdriver out from her belt and started spinning it in her hand. “Example, since I’m in R&D, I had to prove I could reasonably play my hand with technology. Although I think you shouldn’t have to do the exam, since you fought off those two guys already at the bank, our boss’ brother is too much of a stickler to let anyone slide without it. You’re lucky enough to miss most of the testing and training beforehand.”

“Right, and that happens when?”

“Today.” Dawn put the screwdriver back.

“I feel like I got ran over by tank tracks.”

Liam crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Yeah. They’re still going to make you do it.”

“This feels deliberate.”

“No, Ains is just a dumbass.” Dawn took a moment to squint at Harlow. “What’s your name again?”

“Hh, uh, Urban. He/him. Can I talk to Ainsley, actually? I want to learn how to… whatever they did to fuck me over.”

“Like… now?” She looks over at Liam.

He just shrugs, “Can you stand?”

“I can pretend.”

“Horrible answer, but up you go, then.” Liam gets off the wall and wraps an arm under his shoulders, lifting him up.

“Fuck⸺ Gh, mmm⸺”

“You’re sure about this? You want to do this right now?”

“Just choke down some acetaminophen and everything will be okay.”

“Acetamino-what-now?” Liam started walking Harlow out of the room.

“Painkillers, dork.” Dawn knocked Liam on the head before making her way out ahead of them both. “I’ll go grab some and meet you in the exam room later.”

Harlow walked in pain for a while before finally turning to look at Liam. “That implies she’s going to bring me painkillers, go away again, and then watch the exam, right?”

“I’d hope she remembers at all.”

“This another inside joke?”

“Don’t get attached if you plan on leaving. As your supervisor, if I live that long, I’ll be in charge of wiping your memories.”

“You’ll live.”

“Can’t be too sure around here.”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“Does your gut feeling also happen to include exploding armored vehicles to escape police officers?”

“Well, you know.”

“I don’t. Never met anyone with the balls to. Can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.”

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

my post schedule went v v v v v

[unmeiokaemasu]

shadow dragon progress (and 3H)

I started typing this in the tags for my doodle post but then wrote too much as per usual so here it is

yeah going into shadow dragon I didn’t have any idea who I’d end up using most. I always gravitate towards magic users, and I rarely end up using axe mains, not sure why. so yeah going in I figured my mains would be navarre and linde, and that minerva and tiki would high powered units I’d use out of necessity. and I was SUPER looking forward to using Xane since his gimmick is unique.

What’s actually happened is Lena promoted early through staff spamming, and then Abel is an absolute beast. I don’t remember why I initially favored him over Cain but it spiraled out of control and now since he nearly single-handedly cleared Michalis’s map he’s like promoted level 18. I tried that map more times than any other, and anyone else I let take multiple hits ended up dying. I parked Abel in the woods and loaded him up with javelins, and he dodged most of the long-range magic and just went to town on the wyvern riders and cavaliers. I did use a couple physics but honestly not a bad use of them.

 My other good units are promoted Merric, Minerva, and promtoed Caeda in a pinch. I promoted Navarre but honestly he gets hit too easily and he’s still too frail. Maria’s promoted as well but I still mainly user her for healing, but that’s still super useful.

And I’m not using Xane! :( idk I just didn’t get into it, I don’t like that you have to pick weapons for him to have if he’s going to transform, and I frankly didn’t look up how long he stays transformed so I get nervous about him turning back. I really miss having a dancer, I love strategic layer that that adds and dancers are usually one of if not my top favorite units.

I’ve been trying to train Gordin up since the start for god knows what reason, he’s like level 17 now and I could promote him now but eh. waste of master seal unless he’s 20. I also usually deploy Jeorge now as well but I rarely use either. Don’t really use the whitewings even tho I always deploy them, I wanted to train up Est but it’s so hard for her to even do damage to enemies, setting up kills is a bitch.

Haven’t used Tiki at all, I don’t know how you’re meant to distribute dragonstone uses and idk if hammerne works on it but even it does it’s too much of a pain to figure out so. no Tiki. idk if I’ll regret that later but.

Marth is decent. He’s level 20 now so I’ve stopped letting him fight most times but he’s pretty good at getting people out of scrapes if he’s near enough to help.

so yeah that’s shadow dragon rn, it’s a really solid fe game! reminds me a lot of the gba games. maybe some time I’ll go back and play the FE3 incarnation...but I’m a ways off from that. I have so many priorities before that:

My Genealogy run that I’ll probably never finish (on chapter 4 rn)

Wanna give Thracia a try

Unfinished Binding Blade run

Really wanna try a hard mode Blazing Blade run

I got up to the last chapter of Sacred Stones and abandoned it for so long that when I came back I started over, and I think something may have happened to that file as well...we’ll see.

Really want to get the data transfer from PoR to RD to work, so I’ll probably scuttle the run of RD I had going. oh and I’d have to complete a new PoR file because the old one couldn’t transfer for reasons.

I can’t remember if I even finished a Fates Conquest playthrough, but if I did it was definitely on Phoenix mode, idk I had very little patience with the 3DS games for some reason. I don’t remember if I finished a Birthright route either but if I didn’t that would’ve been out of boredom. I did finish Revelations.

and speaking of the 3DS I never finished Echoes lol. idk I’m cursed.

...but on that note! I’m on the second to last chapter of my hard mode Azure Moon run! :D It’s been super smooth sailing esp now that most of my units are flying, but I’m still happy I’ve been able to get to this point. My lunatic Verdant Wind has stalled out, I’m stuck on the Gautier Inheritance :( I was doing pretty well but I haven’t been able to deal with the waves of enemies...honestly kind of like the Knight-Filled Sky chapter I just beat, but I don’t have an Abel to tank everything for me. Byleth is my tankiest character and even she can’t deal with all of them, nobody else really stands a chance. idk if warping her up to fight Miklan after most of the reinforcements had left would work, probably not tho, but I think it’s a moot point bcs I don’t think Lysithea has warp yet.

...but anyway I’ll be happy to finish that a hard mode run for sure (since I can’t remember if I beat a hard mode verdant wind before), and I’m DETERMINED to actually FINISH this shadow dragon playthrough.

[lab-trash]

Villain Arcane

There is a prologue before this, so if you click on the link, you’ll want to go to the previous chapter, or if you’re reading here, it’s my most recent post before this. It's really short, so it won't be like... a big deal.

Chapter List

The mission alert alarm had stopped startling Oliver. In fact, it barely had to begin with.

Living with his mother, he had to get used to random loud noises at any moment. Yelling, mostly— But occasionally the thud of something thrown to the ground, the sound of a hand hitting someone’s face, and glass breaking. 

When it went off, he just shut his laptop and got ready for whatever mission. 

He and Kaz flew together to the site. An abandoned factory warehouse for electronics. It reminded them of Megahertz’s home. 

The warehouse was actually recently abandoned, after it was bombed. There were already plans in order to build a new one closeby in a different lot, and the construction had already been approved. It was easier this way. 

The others arrived quickly. Chase was brought by Skylar, much to Oliver’s dismay, but he was learning to understand. 

“There are many sections of the warehouse,” Chase said after a quick scan of the interior. 

“Sections? Don’t you mean rooms?” Kaz asked. Chase shook his head. 

“The combination of small bombs made the rooms themselves collapse while keeping the building itself intact. There aren’t rooms anymore, just segments,” He said. 

“I say we split up,” Bree offered. “We can cover more ground this way. It’ll be harder to navigate with us in a group,” She said. Chase nodded.

“I agree. Keep your communicators on, if anything goes wrong, alert us immediately.”

The group nodded as they double checked for their communicators. As soon as they did, they filed inside. 

Oliver set off, flashlight in hand. He kept an eye out for victims and any other signs of danger. 

Then he heard something. 

“Oliver, come in Oliver.”

Chase, over the radio. 

“Go for Oliver,” Oliver responded as he’d been instructed.

“I need your skill set. Go exactly four steps forward, and seven steps to your left, and you should find me. Over.” 

“Roger that, over and out.”

Oliver did what he was told.

He found what he had heard, even as his flashlight flickered out.  

There was a door where Chase had said, and through that, he could see him. Strapped to a table, unconscious. Someone stood next to him, holding his wrist— the one with the communicator sewn into his suit. Oliver watched him drop Chase’s hand. 

“Hello, Oliver.” Chase’s voice. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Is that better?” He asked, a new voice ringing out. Still familiar. 

“Who are you?” Oliver asked. 

The room was dim in the night, only the moonlight filtering in through the holes in the walls and ceiling.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that was my bad,” The guy said. He twisted his hand and Oliver’s flashlight flickered back on, allowing him to shine it at the figure. 

Marcus.

“Marcus…” Oliver breathed quietly. 

With a few more movements of his hand, the door behind Oliver slammed shut and the lock seemingly clicked. 

“What are you doing here? What did you do to Chase?” Oliver asked, cautiously stepping closer.

“Oh, I just wanted to see my little cousin, but after seeing me, he got a little defensive.” Marcus put his hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, he’s alive… for now.”

“Cousin…” Oliver breathed. 

“What, you thought that Douglas was the only evil Davenport?” Marcus asked with a small smirk and laugh. “Well, I mean, he was. But he created me.”

“Created you? L-Like he created Adam, Bree and Chase— DNA?” Oliver asked. Marcus seemed to ignore the question.

“I followed in my father’s footsteps,” Marcus said. “Not like you. You… You’re the opposite of me and my father.”

“What?” Oliver asked. 

“Your mother,” Marcus said. Oliver stiffened at the very thought. “I mean, you and your mother, they’re the opposite of D—Douglas and I.” Marcus seemed to wince at his stutter. “Your mother was evil. She just wanted to protect you. But you stayed on your side. Stayed ‘good.’” Marcus said, rolling his eyes slightly at the final word. 

“And you?” Oliver asked. Marcus laughed lightly, putting his hands in my pockets. 

“My mom succeeded,” He said. “She saved me. You… you got put in danger.”

“What else,” Oliver demanded. “What’s different? Between us.” 

“Well,” Marcus said, stepping once closer. “Douglas. Built me. Then left me to die,” He said. Another step. “My mother rebuilt me.” Oliver got the feeling now that the building was literal. “She gave me power. The power I deserve. My power.” Another step. “She died. The idiot killed herself by accident.” 

“In an accident?” Oliver asked. Marcus rolled his eyes and shook his head, but didn’t elaborate.

“Difference between us,” Marcus repeated. “Your mother cared for you more than anything in the world. She wanted to protect you, keep you safe.” Another step. “My parents wanted me to protect them. To use me as a weapon. They didn’t care about me.”

“I…”

“You want to know another difference?” Oliver didn’t say anything, especially as Marcus’s hands went to Oliver’s face, pressed against his cheeks. 

He swallowed. Marcus pulled Oliver down and pressed his ear against Marcus’s chest. 

There was no heartbeat. The closest was rhythmic clicking, like gears shifting to mimic a heart, subsiding a dull buzzing noise. Even through Marcus’s thin black t-shirt and the cold of the damaged warehouse, Oliver could feel the almost searing heat of Marcus’s skin. 

Oliver stumbled away. 

“You’re not human…” He muttered. Marcus scoffed. 

“Oh, please, as if you could qualify as human yourself,” He said. Oliver’s eyes widened. “Oh, right,” he said. “I know you’re not bionic.” 

He kneeled down to where Oliver had fallen. 

“You don’t have a chip in you,” He said, pressing his fingers to the nape of Oliver’s neck. “You’re some sort of mutant.”

“Superhero,” Oliver shakily corrected. 

“Could make an excellent super villain too,” He said. 

“I-I’d never—”

“Sure,” Marcus said, standing back up and pulling Oliver up with him, whether he liked it or not. “I know, Oli.” 

Oliver couldn’t fight that feeling down his spine. 

“And since you’re such a hero.”

He grabbed Oliver’s wrist and pulled it toward him, using the other hand to cover Oliver’s mouth. 

“Uh, Elite Force, this is Oliver, come in, do you copy?” He said, mimicking Oliver’s voice, making him sound frantic. 

“This is Kaz, I copy.”

“Bree, I copy.”

“Skylar, I copy.”

“I recovered the hostages, they’re safe, but we need to get out of here now,” He said. “The, uh, the perp is gonna suicide bomb this place, we have to go. Over.”

“Alright, we’ll go back to the apartment then,” Bree said, “Over.”

“Everyone leave as soon as possible, don’t wait,” Marcus added. “Over.”

“Wait, where’s Chase, he hasn’t radioed in,” Kaz said nervously. “W-Where’s Chase? Over.”

“He’s with me, don’t worry,” Marcus said. “Over.”

“He’s okay, right? He’s okay?” His voice sounded worried. It was unfamiliar to Marcus, and even to Oliver. “He… He always checks in. O-Over.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably taking the bus home already, over,” Bree joked. 

“Chase, check in, do you copy?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. 

“I’m here, don’t worry,” Marcus said, shifting his voice again. “I’m fine, Kaz, over.”

“Okay,” Kaz said. “Okay, sorry. I’ll head home now then, over.”

“I’m pretty sure Oliver’s the only one left in the building then,” Skylar noted. Oliver tried not to let it get to his head. “I don’t hear any wind in his transmission, over.”

“Just double checking. But we seem alright, I’m heading out now. Over and out.”

Marcus shifted the radio off before breaking it off of his uniform. 

“Don’t worry,” He said. He looked back at Chase, letting go of Oliver. “I’d never hurt family,” He said. He turned back to Oliver, firing up some sort of energy-lightningy hand. “But you’re not family. So you’d better leave.”

With his other hand, he unlocked and opened the door. 

“Get out,” He said, “And only come back if you’re with me,” He said with a smirk. 

Oliver tried to speak, but couldn’t. His heart beat so hard and fast that he could feel it in his jaw. 

So he did the only logical thing. 

He ran.

[hurdlehoops]

SPN did Market Research for Dean & Cas

Disclaimer: Yes this is a sock for safety reasons. Post is long, but please read it.

No shit there I was checking my email, as you do, and I saw I had a screener from one of the market research groups I’m signed up with.  On average, I do a market research thing every 3-4 months because I like non-reportable money. And giving my opinions. And talking to people behind 2 way mirrors without having to go to a police station.   

Market research itself was early December, 2016. First email contact with the screener was late October or early November. 

I see it’s an “offsite,” meaning a market research company is subcontracted by another company who wants to do the market research at their own facility, but doesn't want to find the participants on their own, so they use the Market research company (in this case Schlesinger and Associates) as an intermediary. I can’t remember if this screener identified itself as being for TV, not all do, some might identify only as entertainment, and some might be even more vague until you get into the screener. Regardless of the identification for the screener (TV or entertainment), I fill out almost every screener I receive unless it’s obvious, from the subject, they won’t want me (ie looking for certain types of professionals)- it didn’t matter, then, if the subject matter was something I particularly like, I would’ve filled it out anyway.  

After normal, but more detailed than usual demographics questions, the screener asked about TV habits. Eventually,  it said the word “fandom” and asked what TV fandoms I’d count myself in.  It was roughly a list of 20 shows and listed “fandom” (defined as I watch every episode and read additional materials about the show. Note this is not what fandom itself would consider fandom, but people most fandom dwellers would still count as GA).  Beyond fandom, one could indicate they: watch all episodes but don’t seek out more,  watch most episodes, have seen some episodes, watched a few, or haven’t watched.  (I just got a screener for soap operas and realized that part was the same and made note). Therefore, fandom, to corporate, are people who watch everything and maybe buy some swag for the show- magazines/shirts. Then, they asked about conventions I might have attended.  And then asked about my dream vacation, so I babbled a lot about my dream to go to SDCC (I hadn’t at this point). Supernatural was on the list of shows, so I made sure I answered the essay questions about it, because why not? It was my favorite of what was listed.  It was a long screener. I don’t remember the rest. Though sometimes I might remember a detail if a screener reminds me of it. Most fun screener I’ve filled out.

A few days/weeks later, I got a call for step 2- the phone screener for the people that sounded good when filling out the form. And where they try and make sure your answers match or fit that same person who answered them. I passed step 2, and was told there would be homework, and asked ifI’d have time for it, since I would only have so many days to watch the assigned material and write essays about them. 

Homework arrives: I have to watch and write essays on all the bonus features of Supernatural S10. There might’ve been something in there from another year, too. And all the bonus features from some season of  Big Bang Theory.  Essays for all of it, too.  And I mean essays, not short answers.  It was like the SATs, and I was analyzing blooper reels (among other things).  I still don’t get why they wanted essay questions on blooper reels, but I’ll always happily write one again cause that was the funniest essay to have to write! 

I had to both print and bring and email all my answers ahead of time.  I did not keep them.  I’m honestly curious what I might’ve written.  

So in December, I get to go to WB’s market research department. Fun fact: the entrance to that building faces what had recently been the Supernatural poster. I check in. At this point I think it’s a group. Because most market research is done in groups. Also they said I was there for the “DVD bonus features study” 

I wait in the lobby, but I’m surprised there seem to be very few others around. I don’t think I got there too early, but all the others were taken back before me. And they didn’t seem to be there for the same study.  Oh and I wore business casual clothes but had some show-based earrings for fun.  

Finally a nice lady brings me back to a room. She turns off the lights and gives me a fancy remote and has me play with a new system for watching bonus features. I had to start with BBT. Then we did something else. Then I was allowed to scroll through and I picked Supernatural, and answered all the things.  By this point I figured I would be released soonish   because I was supposed to be there only for an hour. And this was at least half an hour at the most. No clock, though and cell phone off.  Maybe this part went faster than I remember, but it was less interesting so it felt longer? Or less interesting compared to what came next. 

We switch gears. I’m no longer allowed to pick what we watch and talk about my thoughts on if SDCC panels belong in bonus features.  (Me: should have a preorder and you get to watch it when the season airs with DVD to arrive when season ends. Silly to watch it after the season when it’s mostly vague spoilers for the first episode or so). Obviously WB doesn’t listen to me about everything.

Oh! In the screener as part of normal demographics, I was asked about my sexuality. It isn’t completely rare (I can talk about another market research where you had to be queer to be part of it), but there were some short answers about representation or something similar. Something that is significant *now,* but at the time I didn’t notice as being too weird.  Since they probably had me listed to the people behind the mirror as X (if they even got my name) Y resident, bisexual, age.  I very specifically said stuff to her about representation cause I wasn’t gonna miss my shot.

Anyway so we switch from dvd extras and she queues up video from another file.

She puts a scene of Supernatural on and has me watch. Then repeats it. And asks questions about my opinions on what’s happening.  Then has me watch and only pay attention to Character D and tell her what I think his emotions are.  Then again but with Character C.  

Complete torture… lol… at this point I’m confused, but enjoying this torture.

So there I am watching the Crypt scene over and over and analyzing it.  And talking about their feelings.  

And then I stop her and say something to the effect of “look I’m bi. There’s not a lot of good representation on what being bi is like.  But from episode 1 I’ve known Dean is Bi.”    And I babbled about how important a macho badass but closeted character is for representation. And that I hoped they did more with that.  I included some anecdotes from other lgbtq friends and straight allies and how they all felt as I did- Dean is Bi, Cas is whatever he wants to identify as, and we felt we recognized our experiences on the screen and hoped for continued and louder representation. 

Bam. My interviewer was called out of the room by the people behind the mirror. Suddenly I’m getting a whole new set of questions

Like this is the most baffling and amazing thing that's happened to me in years. It imprinted in my mind, and I haven’t mentioned it to too many people, because of the NDA and being afraid to jinx things. But now I don’t feel like it matters to be as quiet. Obviously I don’t want WB to go after me but... market research isn’t unusual, just mostly used for spin-offs or new shows not for plot points of shows already happening. At least, that’s my understanding. 

The interviewer  comes back after a short discussion with whoever was behind the glass. Asks a few more questions

We’re now very much going into various things about what I’d just said. I took my shot. And apparently it paid off big time.  At some point she’s pulled out of the room again and given a paper with more questions. Some were about Dean’s bisexuality, or how I, and anecdotally my friends, saw him as bisexual.  Others were about the potential romance. None, that I remember, were about Castiel’s sexuality- I guess that was a given or not important. 

I don’t know if any of the writers were behind the glass from the beginning, but I felt like they stalled to get someone there, maybe.

The interviewer was baffled and made sure I knew nothing that was happening was normal.  They wanted to ask me more questions than they usually care to get out of their market research volunteers. 

So those are the most important parts. Basically almost everything I was asked after that was about character analysis and queerness and a whole bunch of other things that were related (I also mentioned needing more disability rep, too).  I was back there for at least 2 hours.

[captains-simp]

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers. 

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now. 

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar. 

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course. 

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well. 

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level. 

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it. 

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to: 

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer. 

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and  met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours. 

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes. 

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged. 

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again. 

They loved you. And Idia was no different. 

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten. 

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved. 

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…” 

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

“No…” 

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you. 

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words? 

He looked away. 

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe. 

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?” 

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway. 

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that. 

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him. 

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?” 

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble? 

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case). 

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him? 

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride. 

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors. 

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood. 

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head. 

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there. 

Help… oh no…

2m… 

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho… 

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left. 

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace. 

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit. 

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back. 

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good. 

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck. 

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory. 

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve. 

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground. 

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-” 

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself. 

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand. 

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!” 

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again. 

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!” 

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter. 

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside. 

“You left me there!” Idia huffed. 

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!” 

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.  

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it.  I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise. 

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care. 

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway. 

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did. 

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day. 

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point.  But if you have time, I could go on forever. 

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him. 

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that. 

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend. 

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself. 

Oh, and enjoy your new manga. 

Your best raid teammate, 

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was. 

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same. 

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again. 

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning. 

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!” 

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all. 

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!” 

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!” 

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved. 

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit. 

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little. 

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together. 

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics  were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios. 

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light. 

THE END. 

~

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback! 

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” 

[boldlyvoid]

Of Quartz I Will

Amethyst You So Much✨ Part 2: Of Quartz I Will

Summary: after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Warnings: fluff, gun violence, shooting tw, Reid's season 5 knee injury, hurt/comfort, emotional smut, body massage, hand jobs, riding, penetrative sex.

word count: 6K

Spencer notices her as she walks in, through the briefing room window, she’s wearing his purple shirt. He wanted to wear that for work today but couldn’t find it anywhere, now he knows why.

“Excuse me,” he says to his group of teammates as they contribute reading case files.

“Hey,” Spencer grabs her attention from the railing beside the briefing room. “I’ve been looking for that shirt everywhere.”

“It’s mine now,” she smiles, setting her things down at her desk for the night. “I’ll buy you a new purple dress shirt.”

“Buy yourself one, I like that one,” he whines.

“Finders keepers, doctor Reid. Either stop leaving your shit on my bedroom floor or move in already.”

Everyone hears it. All eyes are on them as they bicker in the middle of the bullpen, including the team of profilers just beyond the window.

“Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She climbs the stairs quickly, giving him a good morning hug even though it was 9pm. “I love you, that’s why I’m wearing your shirt.”

He smiles against her shoulder as he holds her, “I love you, more so in my shirt.”

When he sits back down at his chair at the round table, everyone is waiting with a raised brow. They want details, they want his opinion, they want to hear him stutter and see him blush like he used to. But he doesn’t.

“Yes, I will be moving in with her. We have people to save,” Spencer reminded them. Avoiding eye contact and flipping through the files.

Derek tugs on his amethyst bracelet, he hasn’t taken it off since he got it, almost 2 years ago. “Are you ever going to get her any other jewellery?”

“When she goes home I’ll show you,” he whispers, still avoiding eye contact as they all gasp. “Keep it cool or I will kill you.”

He keeps an eye on her at her desk, smiling when she looks up to see him. She blows him a kiss and waves softly a few times, but other than that, they don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

The next time She sees him, he’s in her bed sound asleep as she’s coming home from work. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes his hair away from his face to wake him up gently, he blinks into the morning sunlight to see her.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

She’s in his pink shirt today. She liked to keep something of his close on bad cases that take him out of town. In this case, out of the country. He was in Canada for a few days, the case was horrific and she had to deal with all the office work in Penelope’s absence.

“Amethyst,” she whispers, it was part of their secret code.

Spencer, being a cunning linguist, he loved anagrams.

They had Amethyst for I miss you, Quartz for of course, and Olive for I love you. It was easier to keep the PDA to a minimum at work, not wanting to sit in a seminar like Derek and Penny about sexual misconduct and hostile work environments.

“Olive,” Spencer replies, pulling her down into the bed so she can cuddle in.

“We can’t stay, there’s another case. JJ told me to bring you in on my way home,” she explains softly. “They need you to go to ER Doctor Barton’s house, in McLean, he got a note saying someone was going to kill his son. So far they’ve also connected him to a few surrogate kills of Hispanic men, they need the speed reader to go through all his recent surgeries.”

He sighs, holding her tightly and snuggling in against her back, “no.”

She laughs, “Spencer, you can read really fast and the faster you read the faster you can come home to me.”

“Fine,” she has perfect logic, he always tells her that. “Are you driving me to the guy's house?”

“Yep, so we can stop for coffee and talk in the car, I really did miss you a lot,” she struggles out of his grasp to turn and face him, opting to hold his face in her hands as she looks at him. He’s exhausted, just like her.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I was gone so long,” his voice is barely a whisper, “We should take a day off together soon.”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider, completely in love with him. “I’d really like that, maybe we can look at apartments?”

“Apartments?” He repeats the word with a grin, raising his eyebrow softly. “I thought you liked it here?”

“It’s too small, I want to get a cat, if you’re bringing your closet here we’re going to need a bigger one,” she ranted. “And actually, I was thinking if you’re on the same page as me and this is a long-term thing for you too, what if we just got a bigger place and got a mortgage and start a little life outside the FBI, together?”

He’s so in love with her, “get my bag?” Is all he can say.

“What?” She’s so confused, shaking her head softly as she comprehends it.

“On the floor there, grab my bag, please there’s something for you in there,” he points behind her, trapped under her and the blanker so it’s not like he could get it himself.

She gets up, placing the bag on the bed for him as she watches him dig through it for a little box. “Arminius helped me pick this out.”

He had become best friends with the owner of the rock shop, she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had gotten something else from there for him. It made her giggle with excitement, bouncing softly as Spencer sat up and moved his bag out of the way.

But then he got out of bed, he’s in a pair of purple boxers and his hair is a mess and he’s so nervous and she has no idea why until he gets down on one knee.

“I was waiting to do this.”

“Holy shit.”

He nods with a shaky laugh, “yeah, I’m in it long term if you are?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drive you to work now?” She laughs, unable to stop smiling as the two of them stare hopelessly at each other. She hasn’t even looked at the ring yet, too occupied with the wonderfully happy look on his face.

“Quartz,” is all she can say, flabbergasted as she keeps laughing with a shocked smile.

He takes it from the box and she watches as he slides the most beautiful purple Amethyst ring over her ring finger and then her hands are back on his cheeks. Pulling him into a kiss, she can’t seem to hold him close enough as she breathes in. Holding her breath as she keeps him there.

He pulls away with a laugh, “when are we supposed to be there?”

“Now.”

“Damn,” they’re all giggles.

And it doesn’t stop, she takes off Spencer’s shirt and he puts it on instead, matching it with a vest and a tie while she makes him a coffee and can’t stop smiling as she glances at the ring.

It really only made sense for their engagement to happen in the same place she fell in love with him.

Sure, she liked him a lot when he was getting her rocks and she really wanted to get to know him more after his last note, but it was the bracelet that made her fall in love. He went out of his way to make her smile on what felt like the worst day of her life, and she knew she wanted forever with him from then on out. Now she was going to get it, she was going to be Agent Y/N Reid, and her ring was absolutely perfect.

He catches her taking photos of it in the sunshine when he comes out of the bedroom. She still can’t stop smiling, it’s just so perfect and she’s just so in love with him.

They get muffins from the bakery under her apartment before getting in her car, “where is it?” Spencer asks, playing the role of GPS whenever they drove together.

“120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia,” she members it clearly.

“Take a right,” Spencer smiles, and she’s off.

She drives with one hand, looking at her ring almost more than the road as Spencer held her other one. She pulled up to the Doctor’s house and he didn’t want to leave. Sighing, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“I will see you when you get home, I’m going to call out after this case is done and you get mandatory 24 hours off for back-to-back cases,” she said, knowing protocol almost better than him. “Go to work.”

“Fine,” he frowns again, getting out of the car and walking around to her door. She rolls the window down and tilts her chin up, leaning out for the kiss he’s waiting to give her.

“Let me know when you’re done, I can come and pick you back up,” she whispers against his lips between kisses.

One last smooch and he pulls away, backing up so he isn’t tempted to stay any longer, “olive.”

“Olive,” she replies with a smile, waving slightly before he disappears behind the door.

She releases a long sigh, melting into the chair as she lets the butterflies swarm around a bit in her stomach, it felt wonderful.

She went home, napped from 10 till 2 and then sat in bed to stare at her beautiful ring for a little while. She couldn’t believe he proposed just like that. All she asked was if he wanted to get a mortgage on a house and she guesses he heard "spend the rest of your life with me."

Sometimes, when Spencer was on a case in Virginia and too busy to keep her updated, she would turn on the police radio and listen to what was going on around in the area. It was good to keep her mind preoccupied and to remind herself that he was safe.

At least that’s what it used to do.

“Shots fired at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia, 10-999, 11-41, all units in the area are requested.”

“10-999, officer down, 11-41, send ambulances,” she whispers to herself, remembering all the dispatch lingo from the office.

She doesn’t have time to panic, she unlocks her safe and grabs her gun, loading it and then she’s out the door, in her car and pulling up behind the sheriff's car as she’s running out.

She tosses her badge up to show the cops as she tries to run onto the scene, “I’m an FBI agent on his team, let me through!”

She slides her knees along the grass, surely ruining her jeans as she dives for him. She places a hand on his bloody knee and looks everywhere else, “are you okay? Are you good? Holy shit, Spence?”

Her breathing is so heavy, she clutches her chest with her left hand and tries to calm down as he looks up at her and they breathe in and out a few times without breaking eye contact. He’s completely fine, there’s just a bullet in his knee, he assures her.

“I’m fine,” he laughs lightly, wincing at the pain as he leans forward to kiss her gently.

She’s there only 2 minutes before Derek, JJ and Rossi are pulling up on the scene. Everyone huddled around them on the grass as the EMTs bandaged his knee up before taking him to the ambulance.

“You need to call Emily,” Spencer speaks over everyone, “something happened to Hotch, I’m fine here with Y/N, just go see him.”

He was always going to be fine with her, that was for sure. She never left his side, except when they took him in for surgery and forced her back into the waiting room. But as soon as he was okay again, his hand was in hers.

—

He was given a month off after his knee surgery, but he still ended up in the office most nights. Becoming more of a night owl than usual as he accompanied his fiancé to her desk and sat beside her as she did her work. It was really nice to spend time with her and not have to do anything.

Of course, he filled his time by going over other case files, things they weren’t able to get to as a team and things that didn’t fit the criteria of the BAU. He made phone calls and sent emails, helping small-town cops make simple connections and doing more good that way.

He sat at her desk, his leg resting over her lap as she made a few phone calls. Handing the background of the cases, filing off invoices and approvals. Dispatching units and requesting files and overrides from other departments. She was amazing.

She hangs up the phone, finally, after 45 minutes of rolling her eyes and sighing as she was transferred from office to office all around America. She places her hand on his leg and absentmindedly runs her hand along his shin, staring off at the desk, silently.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “do you think you’re healed enough to start looking at places?”

He nods back, “actually, I already found one. Hold on,” he slides his leg off her lap and stands with his crutches, hobbling over to his desk where he looks through his files for a new folder.

When he comes back to her, he places the folder in her hands, “forever homes,” is listed on the tag and he sees her heart melt in her eyes. She opens the folder as he sits down, there are about 15 pages of house and apartment listings printed off.

“When did you do all this?” She whispered, shocked and not wanting to cry at work.

“Before I got shot, I was on the phone with Penelope and I asked her to help me find some, she printed off like 50 and I selected the good ones, but there’s more if you don’t like an-“

“Babe,” she cut the rant short, “I’m sure I’ll love any of them, as long as they come with you.”

He pulls a specific sheet from the pile, “this one is my favourite.”

She can see why, it’s a large, green exterior, Victorian home. There’s a turret and a porch, large windows with a bench seat in the kitchen. A garage, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, a study and a pretty nice backyard.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but Derek said he’s willing to help teach me how to fix some stuff,” Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly. He really wanted this on.

“Let’s get a Realtor and set up a walk-through,” she agreed, “and we should bring Derek because he’ll know more than most inspectors anyway. I don’t want to get a place with a cracked foundation or a faulty water heater.”

He smiled again, “remember last week when I had that extra appointment?”

She tilted her head, “no, there is no way you’ve already been there to check it out without me.”

“And I put an offer in, but I was waiting for your approval,” he adds, nervous for her to hate it.

“With what money? I thought we were doing this together?” He’s not sure why she’s upset, normally she loves his surprises.

“When I sold my moms house, I invested the money and it’s been gaining interest for years now,” his voice is soft, “I got through college with scholarships and if I was ever down on money I just had to go to one casino and I always leave with two grand, minimum, I promise, I’m really in this for the long run. I know what I'm doing.”

She smiles, picking up the listing and calling the agency. “Hi this is Y/N Y/L/N calling, my fiancé, Doctor Spencer Reid, recently put an offer in on the listing for 247 Chestnut Drive, I’d love to come and see it soon and take some measurements and things. If you could call me back…”

Spencer is so in love with her it hurts. He wants to scream right then and there, like a kettle on a hot stove for too long, he’s bursting at the seams. She hangs up the phone with the best smile he’s ever seen, “I’m going home early, cause I’m sick, care to join me?”

She stands then, putting her hand out for him so he could stand with her help. “Quartz,” he replies, taking her hand and stands, she gathers their things and she clocks out. No one really cared about all her sick days, she did her job well and they wanted the good doctor to be taken care of.

When he finally gets to show her the inside of the house, she is so in love with it. The hardwood is all original, same with the railings, shelves, banisters and countertops. They're all rustic and beautiful, she can’t help but run her finger over everything as she looks around with an open mouth. X

The kitchen cabinets are green, there is a beautiful colourful wallpaper as a backsplash… and it’s completely empty. It was a remodel, some house flippers did it up and didn’t want to stay. It was made more modern, updated appliances and every safety protocol met. It was perfect.

She turned to him with a smile after only 5 minutes of looking, “this is it.”

“Good,” the women showing them around said, “because your offer was approved, with your say so I can get everything started with escrow.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N cheered, jumping a bit and showing off while Spencer just leaned on his crutch. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek a few times.

“You can start that paperwork,” Spencer smiled, holding her back with his face in the crook of her neck.

—

The hardest part of moving is transporting all of Spencer’s books from one home to another. It's at least 30 boxes of books and Derek will be faxing his chiropractor bill to Spencer within the week.

His office here was huge, floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and green walls, full of all his books and belongings now. It was his own space in the house he shared with his future wife.

It felt crazy to him.

She used to just be the cute girl in the office, he can remember the exact moment he laid eyes on her. She was walking around aimlessly with some files in her hands when he turned around at his desk. She looked lost, overwhelmed and like she was about to have a breakdown.

She looked at him with the same fear he felt on his first day, he took the file from her and knew exactly where it was meant to go. She followed behind him, quiet as a mouse as he placed it in a folder by the wall under a sign that said "Anderson."

He turned with a press-lipped smile and a nod and then they went their separate ways. Silent conversations became their thing, the only time he really heard her voice was when she called him in in the middle of the night or when he heard her on the phone.

Other than that; she smiled when they passed each other, she’d tap her watch when he needed to be doing something Hotch asked for and was preoccupied with something else, she even knew exactly what he was looking for by just observing his chaos. Always able to pull a sheet of paper from the bottom of the stack with ease, and always silently, until that one day she said sorry to him after slamming the phone.

Now he knows that she talks in her sleep, she likes to go over her plans out loud in the shower every morning, and she sings all day long. Be it little tunes, hums, random tongue clicks or whistling, she’s always making noise. His favourite, however, was when sometimes she’d remember something she was trying to remember during a conversation they had, 4 days prior, and she’d scream it out like he knows what she’s thinking every second of every day.

He was in love with her voice, he never wanted to stop hearing it.

He was in love with her face, he never wanted to stop seeing it.

He was in love with her body, he never wanted to stop touching it.

He was in love with her mind, he never wanted to stop exploring it.

All those thoughts rushing to his brain and rushing a new form of butterflies for him. Like anxiety, but happier. Like he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. It was anticipation rather than fear.

She really was it for him, and as he unboxed his life into the house they were about to share for the upcoming future, it all became very real. This was how the rest of his forever was going to look with her. All their memories from here on out were going to take place in this house, in these rooms.

When he picked this house, it was just a fun idea, and now he looks at the hardwood floors and thinks about how wet baby feet are going to sound during bath time. He wonders how many times the creaky steps are going to let him know she’s coming up to bed, he wonders what screaming matches and fights and love-making will happen beyond the bedroom door across from his study.

He wonders if she’s going to love him as long as he wants to love her.

He opens his study door then, “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” She calls up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Can you come up here?”

She marches up the stairs, still not used to the creaky staircase or the length of stairs she had to climb, soon enough, she’s on the second floor and walking into his study, “what’s up?”

He doesn’t know how to ask, he doesn’t even really know what he wants actually. He just missed her, and she was only just downstairs.

“Can I have a hug?”

It comes out more pathetic than he predicted, cringing at the embarrassment as he shrunk into the couch.

“Quartz,” her voice is soft as she approaches him.

Sitting on the brown leather couch that was once in his apartment, she wraps her arms around him and he holds her back softly.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he just wants to hold her for a while. Eventually, they end up laying down with her on his chest, still holding each other as silent as they were in the beginning.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers against her hair.

She snuggles in more, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder softly, “I love you, too, are you okay?”

He nods softly, “I was just thinking about everything and I wanted to hold you.”

She swoons, “do you remember the first night we cuddled like this?”

He nods again, brushing his chin against her head each time, “it all feels like history repeating like it’s supposed to be this way for us.”

“I like to think so,” she agreed. “I actually think you’re my twin flame.”

He hums, thinking about it, “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“So soulmates are kind of like mirror souls, they are exactly everything that the other needs and they fill the missing parts for each other." She explains softly and he can already tell where her rant is going.

"I don’t think that’s us because we are too similar; sometimes we butt heads and don’t see eye-to-eye, and you drive me crazy a lot of the time because we have the same anxiety and daddy issues, but it’s also because you do things I think about doing and then I can’t do them because they're done already and they’re my calm down things so then I have nothing to calm down with, like yesterday-“

“Babe,” he whispers, “I know, we finish each other’s sandwiches, that’s what your niece said when she saw us together.”

It makes her smile and he can feel her cheekbone against his chest, “twin flames are what happens when one soul is ripped in half and sent to two bodies. They’re capable of surviving separately, as long as they have the right kindling, but they burn brighter together.”

“People sometimes think fire is living because it consumes and uses energy, requires oxygen, and moves through the environment,” Spencer says softly, “have you ever seen something catch fire on both ends?”

“Yeah, a few times, why?”

“It’s never about burning the item entirely, both fires are only concerned with connecting to each other for mass destruction. They always burn in the strangest patterns, but they always connect first before devouring the victim.”

She sits up to look at him, “are you saying I devoured you?”

“That would be de-flowered,” he teases, “but no, I’m saying it makes sense. We really have been burning through everything to find each other.”

“I cannot believe you just said I de-flowered you before the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said,” she laughs, “and it was a mutual de-flowering, might I remind you.”

“I will never forget,” he coos, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers.

She pushes him back against the couch, it’s been forever since they’ve really done anything. With moving, Spencer’s recovery, her working nights and sleeping all day. It hasn’t been rewarding in a long time, it’s just been enjoyable.

“No,” he whispers as she starts to trail kisses down his neck. “I’m not having sex on the couch the first time we do it in the house.”

She laughs against his neck, pushing herself off the couch and extending a hand to him, “did the doctor even say you can yet?”

“I can’t do all the work, but I can give a second opinion?” He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as she hauled him to his feet.

“Let me heal you,” she whispers, and he knows exactly what she means.

She lays him down on their bed, on top of the covers with no clothes on as she gathers her things. She closes the blinds, turns on her amber lamp, and lights her candles. But his favourite thing that she adds is the sound therapy… helping the water in his body vibrate at the right frequency to calm him completely. She’s going all out for this one.

Much like the first time.

She’s naked too, both of them completely unfazed by each other’s naked form by now. She sits between his legs with all her chakra stones in her hands and she sets them down on his stomach before arranging them in order where they’re supposed to help on his body.

The Amethyst is just above his head for his crown chakra, touching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as she places a Lapis Lazuli on his third eye, in the centre of his forehead. An Aquamarine on his throat. Rose Quartz on his heart, Tiger’s Eye on his solar plexus, Pyrite on his belly button and finally, Fire Agate at his core.

He always felt so totally relaxed like this, even the first time she ever laid him down like this. He was so calm, he knew he was in good hands and seeing her bless the room made him feel even better.

“Only good may enter here,” the words she repeats every full moon when she opens the windows and blessed the whole house. Keeping them safe, happy, healthy and loved.

She kissed the scar on his knee, causing him to open his one eye to see her. She was laying between his legs now, head resting on his hip as she lightly ran her fingers over his knee, ticking the skin where he finally had feeling again. It took forever for the numbness to go away, even longer for the pain. But she was so patient with him the whole time, taking the best care of him.

She doesn’t mind that he’s hard, she’s very close to his dick as it rests on his stomach beside the crystal.

She kisses his hip, inching each kiss over until she’s pressing one right to the shaft of his dick and he takes a deep breath. Knowing she’ll stop if he forgets how to do the breathing exercises she showed him. He wasn’t allowed to tense his body, this was about pleasure and there was no rush.

For either of them.

He’s done this for her a few times over the years too, just as slow and sensual as she was being. It was calming, rewarding, they bonded with each other and really felt like one being this way.

He heard a cap open, but he was so used to it by now that it filled him with contentment rather than excitement. He remembers the first time she said she wanted to do this, getting some skin-safe, homemade, vegan massage lube and almost turning inside out with how awkward she was asking to do this for their first time.

She sat on her knees between his legs with a small bounce as she got excited about her favourite part. She sat with the bottle resting between her thighs, warming up while she ran some of it over her hands. She massaged his thighs first, getting all the knots and making sure there was no “Charlie's on any horses”, the first time she said that he almost cried laughing and ruined the mood for a little.

She took the rocks off him then, sitting more on his hips as she drizzled the warm oil on his chest. He let his hands rest on her knees, wanting to feel her skin while she felt his. Her hands felt like magic, running over his chest, arms and shoulders like this was her job. She knew every crook, every cranny, every pressure point and soft tissue on him. His body was just as much her’s now.

It's when she presses her body flat against his that he knows the mood is changing. Her breasts are flat against his chest, her hands are behind his head as she looks down at him, her groin pressed right against him as he aches for contact, grinding up into her slowly as she stares into his eyes.

“Better?” She whispered with a small smile, already feeling how much calmer he was, she just wanted confirmation.

“Much,” he’s just as quiet in his reply. “If I don’t bend that knee, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind doing all the work, baby,” she kisses him quickly, “I know you like it more like this anyway.”

She slithers down his body then, his body slick with oil as she easily glides down and creating the most wonderful amount of friction with him. He groans, tossing his head back against the Amethyst on his scalp.

She sits on his good thigh, avoiding pressure with his bad knee like he was an old man now. She makes contact with the only part she didn’t message, adding more of the massage lube to her hand before lazily jerking him off. He keeps a hand on her thigh, groping and managing her right back as she kept a perfect rhythm.

She occasionally grinds against his thigh, mostly when he moans and groans. Extremely turned on by him having a good time, proud of herself for relaxing him, always complaining that he was too tense, she really knew how to release the pressure.

Just as she gets into it, the calming sounds of rain and high-pitched frequencies come to an end… Rhiannon starts playing and he literally watches her come alive; changing her rhythm to match the beat as she starts to grind against him more, she only added his song to the queue, somehow an hour had passed and her music was resuming.

And when Spencer said she was eclectic, he meant she could go from listening to a rare Canadian band called the Tragically Hip, to Kanye West, Taylor Swift, Evanescence and back to Fleetwood Mac. He had no idea where the mood was about to go.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he tried to power through the pleasure, her hand was so amazing he was bubbling away under his skin. He manages to get his middle finger between his leg and her, massaging her clit as she bucked her hips down on him.

Mutual pleasure in any sense was enough for them, seeing the other being perfectly content after everything they went through; it was euphoric. She leans up then and kisses him desperately, unable to stop stroking him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth as the song changes again, it’s the song from the ending of Dirty Dancing, he knows how much she loves that movie. Her kisses get softer, she’s so gentle as she strokes him just a few more times before throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself onto him in one go. Bottoming out faster than before, both of them making the same moan as they curled forward for each other, mouths clashing as they held onto each other.

Grinding together, Spencer kept a hand on her to help her ride as she was preoccupied with her hands in his hair and kissing his neck as they moved in tandem. It was so good, he was incredibly close but he wanted to hold off as long as possible to feel her finish first.

His ultimate pleasure was knowing she was pleasured, he massaged her clit once more between their bodies and she shuttered, “right there,” her words are small as she kisses under his ear, tugging his hair softly as he moans so she can lick at his neck as she moves her hips up and down, gloriously.

He can’t keep his eyes open, everything is too much and he’s so relaxed; it’s like his body is floating on a cloud as she rides him like they’re actually in heaven. He was really having the time of his life and it made him smile at the end of the whimper he released as she tightened around him suddenly and on purpose.

She moves faster, and so does his wrist as he helps her over the edge first. She’s panting in his ear as she rides him with purpose. She cums with a gasp and then he’s gone, her whole body stuttering as she let out the most relaxed and uncontrollable moan he’s ever heard from her.

His grip on her ass tightens as he holds her hips down, he cums with a gasp and it’s so powerful he passes out.

—

He’s so cute when he sleeps.

She’s got him all cleaned up, everything put away and where it’s supposed to be in their new room. She just lays beside him as she watches him nap, blissed out and relaxed, she doesn’t even care that it’s such a typical guy thing to fall asleep right after.

That was kind of her mission.

He’s been so stressed, he wasn’t going to tell her because he didn’t want his stress to become her stress like it so often did. Feeding off each other like a fire, he really knew how to give a phrase to a feeling. But he was stressed because he was in pain from his knee and no matter how much he lied and said he was fine, she knew he wanted to relieve the pain but he was afraid of even taking a Tylenol.

This is the most relaxed he’s been in months.

She ordered a pizza while he was asleep, it arrived before he woke up too. She sets the pizza box, 2 bottles of pop and a roll of napkins at the end of the bed, gently, before getting back into her spot.

She brushed his hair from his face and kissed the tip of his nose gently, seeing him scrunch his face and swallow before blinking awake. She smiled at him, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“I ordered pizza,” she whispers.

“Olive,” he replies.

“Well yeah,” it makes her giggle but she has to say it, “I got our regular green olives, mushrooms and extra cheese.”

He laughs too, extra happy after both the sex and his nap. “I love you,” he says the full thing this time.

She presses another kiss to his lips before hauling him into a sitting position, “I love you, too.”

It’s the best night of her life so far.

the house

Taglist: @dreatine for inspiring a part 2 <3

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[jiminrings]

hi hannah !! can i request a drabble where jungkook visits florist!y/n and he went “hi i’m here to get a flower for my girlfriend” and the girlfriend is y/n. i’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense 😭 love u <3

full blooms

love u too bestie <3

aka jungkook really should’ve thought this through!!

...... oh no

there are so many people in the shop

not just any shop though :D

sometimes you collectively forget that this is yOUR shop and you’re the literal owner of it and you’re not just working it

and sometimes, you forget just how influential things could be

case in point: kim taehyung !!

kim taehyung as in the hottest musician in the scene rn, who happens to be vante on spotify, AND someone who you just happen to know as kim taehyung!!!

kim taehyung as in the friendly customer who comes into your shop more oftenly to look at your flowers than to buy them

and you just let him look at them without buying anything because there’s no harm in it!! the guy is just straight-up Vibing looking at the flowers

(and he also leaves a handsome tip in your jar even when he doesn’t buy anything!!)

you just knew him to be that pleasant customer,,, not exactly a world-renowned musician you couldn’t exactly piece together

but apparently, you’re now more aware than ever lmao

taehyung sneaked in the name of your flower shop somewhere into the lyrics of the mOST famous song from his newly-released album

flowers from spring day on my mind, corner of the street with the neon sign, heaven on my mind and i spent no dime

goddamn

it just so happens that you letting THEE vante look at flowers as he pleases has become his favorite routine and it just makes him so happy in general

so happy to the point that your shop is specifically mentioned

— so, so happy to the point that your shop had become fully-packed and was making single-file lines that stretched all across four blocks overnight

so sO happy to the point that he had unknowingly become a catalyst for your shop to be almost fined because so many people were clogging sidewalks and a warning to get it together so that there would be better organization

YOUR SHOP WAS LITERALLY FEATURED ON THE NEWS?????

anyways, taehyung slipped in from the staffroom you mentioned to him in passing two days after he dropped his album, and then could you properly freak out about him

he was giggly the whole time when you were spouting out your disbelief for him but tHEN he also apologized for all the (positive & money-making) trouble he’s gotten you into

and he managed to sales-talk you (u swear u are the boss here) into collaborating with him for a limited collection with all the favorite flowers he’s taken note of so he could share it with his fans

he even brought you a notebook with all the illustrations and ideas he’s conceptualized so yeah,,,, there’s that

not only do you serve more than a full house in your flower shop and spend much more hours and energy, you’ve also agreed to add something big into your plate that’s easily getting crowded

what a good thing you have jungkook :D

you could literally not ask for a better boyfriend than jungkook

he’s been so supportive the whole time and he kept sHRIEKING when you casually told him that the frequent sight-seeing customer turned out to be vante himself

“all this time?! all this time and you fORGOT to mention to me that he wears a leather watch and a pearl necklace??? baby, those are basically his trademarks!!”

he supports you in ways you can’t even fathom <3

he was supposed to help you in the shop to help tackle the horde of vante-loving and flowers-from-spring-day enthusiasts, but he got an even better idea

he spent the whole week designing and building an online website for spring day from scratch!! he wanted it to be perfect for you and everything you stand by

also even him, a computer sciences graduate, had to back up the website extra nifty because he already predicts that it would get so much traffic (!!)

he took it upon himself to hire from his friends to be your helpers for the shop because ur severely under-staffed

he has tHREE more-than-willing candidates!!!

jimin’s summer job in college was him being a cashier in goddamn music festivals :D OF COURSE he’s gonna be the greatest cashier you’ll ever have!!! he can whip up change even before the customer hands the bills; he’s that good

he also has a great stern voice of making people stand in organized lines and not cut it so that would come handy

hoseok has a great instinct for color theory!!! he just knows what works and what doesn’t and you need an extra mind to help conceptualize arrangements in the blink of an eye

namjoon is a master of small talk and an all-rounder!! you have a loT of customers who have no gist whatsoever on what they want, and you don’t want to risk giving them an arrangement they loathe!! he knows how to hit it

he was actually so excited when jungkook pitched him a job offer

he could literally go “y/n, the lady in yellow has a dalmatian. i could tell she would tulips in her arrangement along with hydrangeas.”

so that’s that, basically

you and jungkook have been hectic and apart for a whole week because you practically sleep in the shop trying to keep up with everything

he’s actually keeping the website and sneaky hires from you as secrets in the meantime because he wants to surprise you!!! like literally right now

he enters from the staffroom and make sure none of the people waiting by the entrance see him because that would be utter chaos

the shutters are all closed so no one from outside can see what’s inside, but you actually fAIL to realize that your shop would still be closed for another ten minutes

the moment you hear a voice, your mind automatically goes to “hi! welcome to spring day. what blooms would you like?” mode :|

jungkook frowns because you look so haggard under his trained eye even if you still look well-kempt!! you can’t have your shops and yourself appear ratty in the eager instagram stories that taehyung’s fans take

but that’s okay!!! he’ll coax you to come home with him tonight because he’s gonna tell you about his hires this morning

“hi! welcome to spring day. what blooms would you like?”

you briefly look up to send a smile, already fetching your paper on your left hand and twine and scissors on the other

“hi! i’m here to get flowers for my girlfriend.”

“that sounds lovely. what would you-“

wait

hold on a second

that’s jungkook’s voice....??

that’s your bOYFRIEND’S VOICE???

“j-jungkook?”

you mutter and the boy beams in return, registering the blank look on your face to be surprise instead of what you’re thinking

the tears suddenly pool at the corner of your eyes even before you realize

“is this your way of breaking up with me?”

...

.....

“what? nO!”

your shoulders visibly sag in relief but jungkook’s clearly perplexed on how you even came to that

“why would i ever be dumb enough to break up with you?” he immediately consoles you when you bury your face in your hands, hopping over the counter to put you in a massive hug

“i-i haven’t slept, dummy!! and i figured that you hate me because we haven’t seen each other for a week and-“

you say in between sobs and chuckles, giggling when your cheeks are smushed and jungkook keeps peppering you with wet kisses

“ten minutes before opening,” kook sweetly reminds you, kissing you on the lips after an entire week that the sheer euphoria he’s getting now is enough to last another

“mhmmm,” you hum when he presses his warm hand on the small of your back, “tell me about your week in ten minutes.”

“sounds good,” he affirms, scratching your scalp that makes you relax even more until he stops red-faced —

“but like, while multitasking, y’know? kiss me while i tell you about my week.”

[foreverfallingforthestars]

here’s a fact. hating someone is exhausting.

Again, another one I speed wrote between finishing up homework and playing genshin lmao I really need to work on that but oh well. Seeing the prompt immediately reminded me of The Hating Game and this is kind of based on that, so do with that information what you will :D Title is also a quote from the book!

Word Count: 1495 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 18 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: You're my work rival and we're stuck in an elevator

~~~~~~

It was a race, and they were tied for first place.

Then again, it’s not like there were any other competitors except for the two of them.

Aelin glanced at the clock and silently cursed, realizing that there wasn't much time left until the working day was done, and she desperately needed to finish this data analysis report for her boss to be able to look over the first thing Monday morning. The only caveat to this was that Rowan Whitethorn was also there until the last possible minute finishing his analysis report on a different department’s data collection.

If he wasn’t sitting directly across from her and constantly in her direct line of sight, it wouldn’t have been such a problem, but when she looked up to see his annoyingly handsome face with his gorgeous eyes and infuriatingly beautiful tattoo creeping out of his shirt’s collar, Aelin was just pissed off that he was such a dick.

Ever since Rowan had joined the company, his insane work ethic (that rivaled hers, honestly) and the fact that he had immediately begun to compete with her for the same manager promotion had Aelin understandably frustrated, and it seems that Rowan was frustrated as well. However, Aelin was nothing but professional, so she never acted on her annoyance with him until the small passive-aggressive and sarcastic comments shared between them turned the silent feud not-so-silent, or secret. Soon enough, the entire office was aware of the fact that Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn hated each other and could not work together.

Of course, that just forced their boss to work together more often than not on data analysis projects, but they got their shit down. Somehow.

And now here they were, both working till the last possible second of the working day to show off their dedication to their jobs in order to somehow get the upper hand compared to the other. Everyone else had slowly begun to leave already, the office emptying out early especially with it being a Friday afternoon (even their boss had left), but this was an important report. With being promoted to a manager role, that would mean that they were the other’s boss, and Aelin wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle Rowan as her boss. He would definitely somehow make her working life hell, and she liked her job; she enjoyed working with the numbers and making graphs and analyzing these numbers.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and with every glance at the clock and at Rowan, her fingers worked faster, slowly beginning to cramp as she desperately tried to get that last sentence in so she could proofread it over quickly.

“How are you still writing, Galanthynius?” she heard Rowan taunt, and she rolled her eyes as she finished typing out her last thought. “You seem to be losing your touch.”

“Screw off, Whitethorn,” she growled, hitting enter and then saving the document — four times but who’s counting — before turning to look at his smug face. “Maybe you finished earlier because you didn’t have nearly as much detail as I do. It’s always quality over how fast something can get done, anyway.”

“Hmm, that wouldn’t make a difference if Maeve can’t look at the document bright and early on Monday, now would it?”

“Who said anything about her not having it done by Monday morning?” she asked, her eyes scanning the document over for any typos and coherency issues.

“Such arrogance.”

“It’s called confidence, Rowan. Maybe you’d attract more girls if you had any of that,” she replied sweetly. It was a blatant lie, though. He had enough confidence in himself that she was attracted to him. Not that she’d ever, ever, make that obvious to him.

“Not like you go out on many dates, either.” Aelin saved the file yet again after another read through, and she sent it to the printer, and she stood up, moving to the printer. Rowan followed her.

“How do you know I don’t have one tonight?”

“I think you’d be bragging about it much more if you did.”

Aelin leaned against the printer as it worked, and she ran her eyes over him. It was unfair how hot he looked in a white button-up collared shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and gray slacks, but it wasn’t like she was unaware that she looked hot today as well. It was a navy long sleeved dress with a gold belt cinching around her waist and a v-neck that went deep enough to barely be considered professional.

“I don’t need to brag about my dates,” she said, turning to pick up her papers and stapling them. “I think my clothes are enough.”

Aelin saw his eyes roam over her, lingering on the v-neck, before snapping back to her face. “I suppose so. I’ve seen you look like a nun, so this is definitely something special.”

“Aw,” she cooed. “You like it. Now, if you’d kindly get out of my way, I have something to submit before I leave.”

She walked away from him and set the report on Maeve’s desk before picking up all of her belongings and packing it away and moving to leave the office. Waiting for the elevator took a bit, and by that time Rowan had joined her, silently standing next to her. The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, and they both got on, still in utter silence until there was a loud clanging sound as the elevator jerked. Aelin lost her balance as she let out a cry of surprise, tumbling into Rowan’s side. He grabbed onto her waist to steady her with one hand braced on the side of the elevator, and the lights within had turned off before turning to a soft blinking red.

“What’s going on?” she asked, pushing herself away from him. Rowan moved to press a button on the elevator before they both realized that the building had lost power, effectively trapping them in the elevator.

“Shit,” he cursed, “we’re stuck.”

Aelin pressed the emergency speaking button, “Hello? Is anyone there? We’re stuck in the elevator.”

The speaker crackled to life immediately afterwards, with someone asking if they were okay and how many people were in the elevator before saying that the firefighters were on their way, but it would take at least half an hour.

“Well this is fantastic,” Aelin sighed, leaning against the wall.

“Too bad you’re missing out on your date,” Rowan said.

“Yeah, well at least you get to grace yourself in my presence for a bit longer.”

“As if I need more of you in my life.”

Aelin scoffed. “People could always use more of me in their lives. You wouldn’t be having nearly as much fun at work without me.”

“WIthout you? You can’t deal with half the tech problems we get if it weren’t for me. How did you make do without me?”

“Perfectly fine, Rowan, trust me.” In their heated conversation, she hadn’t realized when she’d moved away from the wall and instead was so close to Rowan that she could feel his body heat. His hand snaked around her waist and pulled him snug against her body, and her hands landed on his firm chest.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered.

Aelin smiled, “I don’t care.”

She wasn’t sure if she had moved first or he had, but the next thing she knew, her arms were around his neck and both his hands were on her waist as their lips moved in tandem.

He was intoxicating as his lips devoured hers, and her brain spun as her body heated up in his hold.

Holy shit, Rowan was an amazing kisser.

She leaned up on her toes to get better access to his lips, and he leaned down even further. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. Who needed air when he was kissing her like that? It wasn’t possible for her to want to keep doing this with a man she hated, but her body didn’t care about that. Her body wanted Rowan’s hands all over her. Her body wanted him to slam her against the wall, hard enough that all she could feel was his body against hers.

Fortunately (or unfortunately?), her brain restarted, and Aelin pushed away from him, her chest heaving as she took gulps of air.

As the two looked at each other in silence, there wasn’t anything for them to say. She knew Rowan felt the same as she did. This was a mistake. An insanely amazing mistake, but a mistake regardless.

“This was a one time thing,” she breathed, and he nodded, his eyes still burning into her.

Thankfully, the elevator jerked slightly yet again as the speaker turned on again. “Good news, the power’s back, so everything’s fine.

“Great, thanks,” Rowan responded, and once they had arrived at the ground floor, Aelin resisted the urge to grab him again.

That could not happen again.

[sit-down-and-shut-up]

time- a. hotchner

SUMMARY: you get kidnapped lol

WARNINGS: kidnapping (duh), some injuries but everyone lives, aaron being m a d, and reader being a freaking baddie

WORDS: too many 6604

A/N: sorry that it’s been a hot minute since i posted, im lazy

Aaron glanced up as the workday finally drew to a close, watching you wave goodbye to the team and stroll towards the unit chief’s office, just in time to see JJ as she ascended the steps on her way to the room as well. You started to wave, but JJ murmured something you couldn’t make out and you stopped. Aaron’s blood ran cold, and he mentally cursed himself for being naive enough to believe that things would work out for once. He turned to look at Emily and Morgan through the blinds, who’d been talking near Emily’s desk, and saw their eyes trained on you and JJ. Emily swore under her breath, then headed to the conference room with Spencer and Derek not far behind.

+++++

Aaron sat down next to you in the conference room, meeting your eyes and giving you a halfhearted smile. You returned the gesture and went back to scanning the grisly photos before you. He zoned out as JJ spoke, giving the rundown on each of the girls that had been abducted, then murdered mere hours later. The murders seemed somewhat random, with the exception that the victims were all girls in their upper 20’s. In fact, they were all 29, just like you were.

Something clicked in your mind, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You could feel Aaron’s steely gaze on you, and you wondered briefly if he could tell what you were thinking. You were lost in your thoughts, to the point where you didn’t hear Aaron’s deep “Wheels up in 30.” After everyone had left the conference room, Aaron turned back to see you still staring at the photos, searching for something you couldn’t quite name among the blood spatters and empty faces. He walked over to you and gently tapped your shoulder, causing your head to whip up to face him. Realization washed over your eyes, and you mumbled an apology.

Aaron shook his head in response, saying “I’m sorry. I was hoping we’d actually get to go out tonight.” You sighed, then replied.

“Who knows? Maybe the unsub will be caught by the time we get there and we can go get dinner or something.” You laughed as you said it, but your laughter was tinged with a resigned sadness Aaron despised, wishing he could take you somewhere you’d never be forced to feel this way again. Aaron watched you for a few seconds longer, as your face darkened and you grabbed your files and left the room, heading to his office, where both of your go-bags were. He wanted to tell you so much, but wasn’t sure how to start. He wanted to tell you that he’d been planning to propose this evening, that he wanted to be with you forever. But he couldn’t.

+++++

Aaron noticed you lost in your thoughts again on the plane ride while the rest of the team went over the case. The sheer amount of bodies was enough to give someone pause. In addition, the unsub took a girl each Thursday, but never kept them for more than a few hours. Why?

The plane ride felt fairly short. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as the plane touched down in New York, where you’d gone to college years earlier, and worked before you were transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and moved to Quantico. As you walked into the FBI field office with the rest of the BAU, you couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the last time you’d been in the building, when working a terrorism case alongside Agent Joyner four years earlier.

She’d been killed immediately by a bomb in your SUV, and metal had been lodged in your left leg, cutting the femoral artery and nearly causing you to bleed out. If not for your Aaron, you would’ve died there, on the cold pavement. When Aaron came to visit you while you recovered from surgery, you managed to slur out that you loved him. At the time, he blamed it on the drugs you were on, until he showed up at your hospital room again a few hours later, to drive you home. You’d suffered hearing loss as well, and coupled with your leg injury, you couldn’t go in the field or on the plane for a while. As he helped you up and handed you the crutches you’d be relying on for nearly a year, you met his eyes and said confidently, “I meant what I said earlier.”

He’d paused for a second, before his lips spread into a rare smile, and he said, “I love you too.” You’d always known the relationship wouldn’t be easy, considering his recent divorce and your unconventional jobs, but you were fine with it. Being with Aaron was good enough.

Present-day Aaron subtly placed a hand on the small of your back, a sign of encouragement he’d adopted over the years. You glanced up at him and nodded, silently letting him know you were okay. He dropped his hand, and held it out to the new director of the New York field office: Agent Milenka, an enthusiastic but imposing woman you’d met at the Academy when you were younger. You caught Morgan glaring at her for a second, reminding you that Morgan almost got that job. Still, you knew that Morgan loved you all too much to leave the BAU for a job directing the New York field office. The team was his rock, the weight that tethered him to reality when he was at his lowest. Aaron introduced Milenka to the rest of your team, until she cut him off when he got to you.

“I know her,” she declared loudly, “I was her firearms trainer at the Academy, but she had to show me up and be better with a gun than I am.” Spite dripped from her words, but the mischievous smile on her face told you she wasn’t really upset. Aaron nodded slightly, caught off-guard by her remark, then interjected to ask where his team could set up.

Agent Milenka led all of you to an empty conference room, with the case files already arranged neatly and a blank evidence board at the front of the room. She turned on her heel and stared firmly at the team. If you hadn’t known her for years, you’d assume she was going to attempt to assert control over the case, but instead she said, “My agents have come to see this office as a family, and probably won’t take too well to the fact that I’ve called you in. If any of them give you hell, tell me, and I’ll make the devil look like a cuddly teddy bear.” She pivoted on her heel to leave, then turned back around. “Agent L/N, my office.”

+++++

You were shocked, to be honest. This woman could bring grown men to their knees, and now she sat in front of you, spinning in a swivel chair, teasing you over your obvious infatuation with Aaron Hotchner.

“Really, Milenka, I gotta get back to the team,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine”, she grunted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “But here’s what I meant to tell you. I’m guessing you and your team want to know why it took this many bodies for me to call you in. I mean, I’d be wondering that, too. The bodies were all dumped two days ago, even though they’d all been dead for various amounts of time, so I’m guessing the unsub wanted to make sure I had to call you guys. Keep that in mind. He knows how this works.” The humor and mischief was gone from the agent’s voice, and in that moment you knew how she’d risen through the ranks of the FBI so quickly. Something about her made you want to do everything you could to solve the case as quickly as possible. She wasn’t someone you could let down.

You grimaced, then nodded, unable to say anything, and left her office, getting coffee from the espresso machine for you and your teammates as you walked back to the conference room. As you passed around the cups, Aaron watched you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to relay whatever information Agent Milenka had told you, and so you did. The reactions among the team members were the same, set jaws and darkening eyes. You didn’t know where to start with the case, until you remembered the idea you’d gotten back in D.C. You leapt from the black desk chair you’d just sat down in and practically ran to the evidence board, grabbing a red dry-erase marker and organizing the victim’s pictures from the first to the last to be abducted. You circled the eyes on some of the pictures, the hair on others, the widow’s peaks on some, and other various defining features.

“He’s working up to someone specific,” Spencer muttered as you worked. You whipped around, pointing a finger at him and downing the last of your coffee.

“Yes! Okay, so, look at this: The first and last girl are wildly different, but when you look at the chronological order of the victims, each one gains another characteristic that the next one didn’t have, like he’s working up to getting one specific girl, and kept killing those that looked increasingly similar to his real target!” You blurted the words, and watched as your teammates looked on in a mix of awe and horror, at both the board and a piece of paper Spencer had messily written on. Aaron, who was usually so emotionless, looked especially horrified, and scared. You shot Spencer a questioning look, and he held up the paper he’d shown the rest of the team. He’d taken the first letter of each woman’s name, and when lined up, they spelled out a message.

Your name.

+++++

“You’re off the case.” Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest as you paced around the empty office he’d practically dragged you to.

“What? If some psycho is after me, I want to be the one to catch him!” You spoke firmly, almost yelling but not quite.

“If some psycho is after you,” Aaron started, sounding much calmer than you had, “I want you to be safe. Sending you out to hunt him down isn’t keeping you safe.”

You scoffed, then yelled, “As long as he’s out there, I’m not safe! If you let me help, we’ll find him faster. I can’t- no, I won’t- just sit here doing nothing while this man kills women just because he’s got some sort of vendetta against me!”

Aaron’s resolve broke down. You could tell from the way his back slumped and he pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the feeling of calm it brought. Your anger dissipated when he held you like that, and he knew it.

He murmured, “I can’t lose you,” into your ear, and your heart broke from the way his voice cracked from fear and sadness. Aaron pulled away far too soon, and gave you a look that you knew meant to stay put, and pulled out his phone to call Penelope Garcia.

A few moments later, Spencer walked in, hands in his pockets. He looked unsure of himself, and you couldn’t figure out why until he said, “Hotch wants me to drive you to the hotel.”

You stared at him silently for a second, then mumbled curses under your breath and stormed out of the room to find your bag. Spencer put an arm out to stop you, then said, “He said he’d bring it for you tonight.”

You glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze to the suddenly interesting polished linoleum beneath you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t be mad at you.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, and replied, “It’s okay. You’re stressed. We all are. Hotch just wants you to be safe.”

You nodded, and he led you from the building to the shiny, black SUV parked outside. Aaron jogged out of the building towards you, and grabbed the handle of the vehicle before you could. You met his eyes, and he murmured, “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to stay in the hotel room, okay? Lock the door, and I’ll be there tonight with your go-bag.” You nodded, and he paused a second before saying, “I love you.”

Your pride got the best of you, and you simply muttered, “I know.”

+++++

You’d been sure that the SUV’s tires were full when you’d arrived in New York, but the flat passenger tire begged to differ. Spencer pulled into a nearby gas station to fill up the tire, something you were fairly sure he’d never done before. You couldn’t help but laugh when he called Morgan to ask what to do, who responded that it would be easier for him to come fill up the tire himself. You mouthed that you had to go to the bathroom, and Spencer nodded as Morgan’s laughter came through the phone. You stifled laughter as you walked into the gas station, grimacing at the smell of sweat and cheap hot dogs.

+++++

Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so mad. No, mad wasn’t the word. Was there a word that could encapsulate the unadulterated fury coursing through his veins? He paced the conference room like a caged lion, practically screaming at Spencer and Derek through the phone.

“What the hell happened?”

Spencer was crying, he could tell that much from the muffled sobs, and Aaron couldn’t help but think that he might never see you again. He slammed the phone onto the table with nearly enough force to break it, and looked up to see Emily, Rossi, and JJ already halfway out the conference room, before he’d told them what happened. The four of them slid into the two remaining SUVs. Aaron screeched out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Rossi kept shooting him worried glances he pretended not to notice.

“We’ll find her,” Rossi said, “But you need to stay calm for us to do it.”

Aaron nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work right now. If he tried to speak, he knew he’d probably cry. He pulled into the gas station just before Emily and JJ, and a voice in his head reminded him that this might be the last place you’d ever see. Rossi hopped out of the car, giving Aaron a sympathetic look as he did so.

+++++

The team had been at the gas station for almost three hours, interviewing customers, collecting evidence, and talking to workers. Multiple people reported seeing a woman similar to who Aaron described enter the bathroom, but no one saw her leave.There was a window in the girl’s bathroom that had been broken from the inside, with blood on both the window and the glass. The forensics team ran the blood, and it was all from the same person.

Aaron didn’t need to hear the results to know whose blood it was. Spencer tried to help, informing him that she hadn’t bled out because women had approximately 4.5 pints of blood and that was at most half a pint, but Aaron cut him off. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen to everyone talking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, as though she was already dead. He knew the odds, knew that she was almost certainly going to be dead within the first 72 hours, considering how the unsub had killed the other women.

He was going to find you alive. He knew it.

Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

+++++

Everything was fuzzy and painful and oh my god what is that stuff coming out of your side and out of your hand and holy crap you can’t move you’re tied up what are you tied to what’s going on and-

“You’re even prettier than I remember.” The voice sounded familiar, but the only thing your brain could fully focus on at the moment was the excruciating pain. You felt a hand on your side, and then a searing pain that was somehow worse than the pain you’d already been feeling.

“You got a piece of glass in your side. I’m getting it out.”

You felt pressure on the spot, and forced your head to move so you could see what was going on.

He was wrapping your waist in some sort of bandage to staunch the bleeding. You forced yourself to look around the musty room you were in. You were seated in a chair, with your arms tied to the back of the chair by a coarse brown rope and a metal chain and heavy shackle attached to your left ankle. Your eyes followed the chain, to where it connected to a silver hook jutting from the wooden floor, which was coated in a layer of dirt.

Dirt.

You must be in a barn, or shed, or something. You definitely weren’t in New York City anymore.

You vaguely remembered what had happened in the gas station bathroom. There’d been a man waiting in the first stall, who jumped on you, shoving your head against the mirror hard enough to crack your skull. You figured that you’d blacked out, and he’d jumped the window with you in tow.

Then another memory washes over you like a tsunami, flooding you with regret.

Aaron said he loved you, and you didn’t say it back. Now, you might never get to tell him that you love him again.

+++++

Aaron removed himself from the case, leaving Rossi in charge. He knew he’d only slow everyone else down with the torrent of emotions dancing inside his skull. So now, he’s resorted to sitting in your hotel room alone, wishing he hadn’t told you to go to the hotel. He’d been crying for the first time in years.

Aaron had no clue what to do, and it gives him newfound respect for the families of abducted victims that he speaks to. He pulled the sparkling diamond ring he planned on giving you tonight out of his bag, staring at it and imagining it on your ring finger. It doesn’t make him happier, instead it just turns the steady stream of tears into a storm.

+++++

Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Emily, seated at the silver table in the conference room, were going over every last piece of evidence they have, while Spencer made a map of the abduction sites as Agent Milenka told him the addresses. They already established that the victims were high-risk due to their above-average athleticism, and each victim was taken from a high-risk location. Spencer looked for any sense of a pattern in abduction sites, but couldn’t find one. Eventually, he sat down next to Morgan and Emily, defeated.

“So all we know is that he’s obsessed with Y/N, and that he wasn’t remorseful about the murders of the other women.” Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if he was able to subdue her, he most likely had the element of surprise. So, he probably isn’t physically strong, and needed that advantage to knock her out.” Rossi added, and Derek nodded.

Spencer looked up from the crime scene photos. “There’s no ligature marks.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we went over that. So?”

“Why knock the women out and transport them if you’re just going to kill them immediately instead of holding them somewhere? Why not just kill them wherever they already are?”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “Practice. So that when he had Y/N, he knew exactly what was going to happen. But he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the fantasy by taking someone else where he’s planned to keep Y/N. He wants that to be special.”

“So we know he’s going to be holding her somewhere secluded, then,” Milenka chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, the phone rang in the center of the table, and the team members all stared at it for a few moments before Derek turned to the computer next to him, where Garcia was currently on a video call with the team.

“Can you trace this call, babygirl?”

Garcia nodded. “I don’t have a trap and trace set up yet, but I can get one, honey. Just gimme one second.”

Derek’s hand hovered over the button on the receiver to answer the call, and when Garcia affirmed that she was ready, Derek pressed the button. Instantly, a somewhat timid male voice filled the room.

“Where’s Agent Hotchner? I want to speak to him, not any of you.”

The team shared a perplexed look, and Emily asked, “How do you know who is here and who isn’t?”

“The window’s open.”

JJ ran to the window, then turned. “He’s there,” she said, pointing to a man directly underneath where the conference window was with a phone to his ear.

The rest of the team sprinted down the stairs and out of the field office, with JJ not far behind. By the time they got to where the man had been, he was long gone. No one near the area said they’d seen him, either.

Derek turned and punched the wall out of rage, while Emily cursed loudly. The rapid darkening of the sky didn’t help with trying to catch an unsub, either.

Dejectedly, the team returned to the conference room, where Garcia excitedly said, “Your man forgot to hang up for a few minutes! I don’t know entirely where he went, but I know the direction he was headed!”

“Where, Garcia?” Spencer asked, desperate for a lead.

“Straight west.”

Spencer looked to Emily, who said, “Let’s go.”

+++++

The team knew the unsub needed somewhere secluded to keep you, but couldn’t figure out where. He’d been on foot when they’d seen him, so it had to be somewhat close. Or maybe he’d had a car in a parking lot somewhere? There were too many variables. They needed Hotch.

+++++

“Drink.”

The man held a cup to your lips, but you kept them closed tight. After trying to force you for a while, he gave up. Sighing, the man ran a hand through your hair, forcing your head upright. For a serial killer, he was surprisingly gentle.

“You need your strength,” the man murmured, but you looked away when he picked up the cup again. He set it down, shaking his head, then pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. You knew better than to scream. It was likely that he craved your pain, so allowing him that satisfaction would coax him to continue. He walked behind you, to where you wouldn’t see him. You closed your eyes, praying for a quick death, praying Aaron would find you, praying you could see your team one last time.

But you didn’t need to.

The man cut through the rope binding your wrists, then left the room. He was rarely in the room with you, and you wondered what he was doing outside of it. For the first time, however, he came back within a few minutes of leaving. You could theoretically move if you wanted to now that the rope was gone considering how long the chain attached to your leg was, but you were weak and hurting. The last thing you saw before your vision went black yet again was the man standing above you with a syringe.

+++++

Aaron was with the rest of the team, visiting each abduction site for something, anything to help the profile, when the unsub called him.

“This is Hotchner.”

“I have her, Agent Hotchner, and I treat her better than you ever could. You think what she needs is a big strong man to control her,” he mocked, “But you don’t truly love her. No one could, except me.” Although the man’s words were confident, he sputtered out the words like an old truck engine. It sounded like he was reading a script, as though he’d had to plan out what he was going to say beforehand. As soon as the unsub finished speaking, the tell-tale click of the phone hanging up sounded.

Emily, who’d been walking next to him, stopped, pulling out her phone to contact Penelope.

“Can you get the rest of the team on the line? I think Morgan and Reid are at the Central Park crime scene, and JJ and Rossi are probably still by Times Square.”

Emily could practically hear Penelope’s smile as she responded, “Can do, gorgeous.”

A few keyboard clicks later, Penelope stated, “You’ve got me, Morgan, Rossi, Reid,and JJ.”

Emily took a shaky breath before saying, “We think Y/N knew the unsub.”

“What do you mean, knew?” Reid’s voice sounded.

“He claimed that he loves her more than Aaron ever could. He thinks he knows her better than us, so he probably knew her when she used to live in New York.”

“She went to college here, didn’t she?” JJ responded.

Penelope chimed in, exclaiming, “She went to John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Graduated top of her class.”

Morgan cleared his throat, then added: “Maybe the unsub didn’t know her, but thought he did. He could’ve been stalking her when she lived here, then kept tabs on her when she transferred to the BAU years ago.”

“He probably found out about Y/N’s relationship with Aaron recently, and that’s his stressor.” Rossi added.

Emily stared into the distance. There was something off about this. The theory made sense, but at the same time, it felt, well, wrong.

Agent Milenka, who’d been surveying the crime scene Emily and Aaron were at, sauntered over.

“I know who did this.”

Aaron met her firm gaze, confused and intrigued.

“Who?”

“There was this guy she met at John Jay, didn’t talk much, but he ended up applying to the FBI just because she did. He made it in a few months after her and got a job as a forensic analyst at our field office here. They worked together pretty often, and he was never too strange, but you got the feeling there was something off. He started acting weird after Y/N’s transfer to the BAU. I ordered another psych eval for him a few months ago, and he failed. I fired him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Aaron and Emily shared a look, both hopeful and sad.

“What’s his name?”

“Ian Foster.”

Aaron nodded, murmuring a quick thank you, then turned back to Emily.

“Call Garcia. We need all the information we can find on Ian Foster.”

+++++

Your head hurt. You were somewhere different now; the dirty brown floor had been replaced with plush white carpet, and the chair you’d gotten used to was gone. Your left leg was still shackled, but this time it was attached to a shiny metal spike in the center of the room. You surveyed your surroundings, noting the vast difference between your current location and your past one. The chain attached to your ankle was long, probably meant to give you full access to the room you were in but keep you from leaving. The walls were white and spotless, along with the queen-sized bed behind you and the dresser and vanity along the far wall. You knew you must look out of place compared to the neatness of your surroundings, with your frizzy, dirty hair and torn, wrinkled, and stained clothes. You realized that you’d never checked your holster for your gun, and in doing so, found it empty.

Great.

Sun shone through the window on your right, and birds chirped happily, as if mocking you. They were telling you that they’re free, while you’re locked in this stupid white room.

Your captor walked in soon after you woke up, and you knew he must be watching you through a camera hidden somewhere.

“Drink.”

Your eyes searched his face, trying to understand who he was, now that you had enough light to see.

“Foster?” You managed to croak out through your parched throat.

Ian nodded, then grabbed your face with one calloused hand, forcing you to open your mouth so he could pour water in, which you promptly spat into his eyes. Instead of causing him to stumble, all it did was make him laugh.

“I see you’re still as fiery as ever.”

You clamped your mouth shut, pursing your lips and staring him in the eyes until he left. After he was gone, you tried to move your arms as much as possible. Your limbs felt heavy, like you were attached to weights, but moving was somewhat possible, a little bit at a time.

For now, that would be enough. You just had to pray that Aaron could find you.

+++++

Ian Foster’s paper trail was a series of dead ends, but Penelope Garcia, being the lovely omnipotent being she is, was able to find two properties owned by his dead uncle in upstate New York that he was likely using to hold you.

Aaron couldn’t describe the relief that wrapped itself around him, like a soft blanket, when Garcia chirped that she’d found where he was. He’d refused to allow himself to think that you might be dead, and the knowledge that now he had your location was sweeter than any candy could ever be.

He wiped a tear from his eye that threatened to fall, and cleared his throat, nodding at Emily and Agent Milenka, wordlessly signaling her to join him as he ran towards the SUV they’d been using. Emily followed, calling JJ and Rossi to give them the address as she ran. The first property, an old farmhouse, was about 40  minutes away from their current location, while the second one, a pretty two-story house, was about three hours away. Hotch, Emily, and Milenka, being farthest from both locations, were driving to the house, while the rest of the team would check out the farmhouse first then meet them there.

+++++

There was this feeling, blossoming in your chest, comforting you, whispering that Aaron was on his way. You’d learned over the years that your instincts rarely lied to you, and you hoped to whatever God there was or wasn't, that this wasn’t one of the times they misled you.

So you knew what you had to do.

You acted nice every time Ian came to visit, roughly every half hour.

Then, after five visits, you drank the water he offered willingly. Gently, Ian helped you up off the ground, a gesture that would’ve been comforting had he not been a serial killer. He moved his hands until they were lightly situated on your waist, and gazed into your eyes with the crazed fanaticism of a deranged man. He leaned in for a kiss, and the second he closed his eyes, you drove your right knee directly into his crotch.

Serves him right for being dumb enough not to fully restrain you. While he doubled over in pain, stepping back, you set up for a roundhouse kick that you placed to the back of his knee, knocking him onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. While he was on the ground, you punched him in the throat with enough force to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air on the ground like a fish out of water. Sending another kick to his temple for good measure, rendering him unconscious, you searched his pockets for anything that could remove the shackle from your leg. Eventually, you settled for a wire cutter that you used to cut off the attaching chain, but your clumsiness left an angry gash in your leg in the process. Limping from exhaustion, you ran from the room as fast as you could with the pain in your side from the glass that had been lodged there and the blood from the cut in your skull dripping down your face and neck. Your head felt fuzzy and faint, and you knew you were likely to pass out from blood loss any second. You repeated Aaron’s name in your head like a mantra, telling yourself that you needed to get back to him first, then you could pass out from pain. Every part of your body ached, screaming at you to give up as you stumbled down the creaky carpeted stairs, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

As you neared the foyer, you heard the engine of a car, along with footsteps. The door flew open, with Aaron directly behind it, followed by Morgan, Emily, Spencer, Rossu, and a few agents from the New York office. Aaron’s eyes scanned the room before settling on you, bloodied and bruised, and he ran to you, gathering you in his arms while you whimpered like a child. He whispered things in your ear that you couldn’t make out as you let the blackness at the edge of your vision take over.

+++++

Lights. Murmuring voices. Were you still in that house?

You opened your eyes to see two people, one man and one woman, leaving the room you were in. There was a pressure on your hand that scared you, and slowly, you turned your head to see the source of the sensation, and you were greeted with what was quite possibly the best view you’d ever laid eyes on: Aaron Hotchner asleep at your side, desperately clutching your hand.

“Aaron?” You murmured. He was a light sleeper, so you knew the sound would most likely wake him up. When it didn’t, you squeezed his hand while murmuring his hand again. His head jerked up, and his tired eyes met yours.

“Y/N.” His voice was filled with so much anxiety, grief, and regret that your heart shattered, as he reached up to ever-so-gently caress your face, then kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” His words took the broken pieces of your heart and smashed them again with a hammer, until you were sobbing against Aaron’s chest. He held you, and let you cry, becoming painfully aware of his inability to help in times like this. His specialty was catching criminals, not helping people through the trauma, and he entertained the thought of asking JJ to talk to you for a fleeting moment, before deciding that he couldn’t let you out of his sight for the time being.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and lifted your head to wipe away your tears, but Aaron did it before you could. You stared down at your side for a moment, watching the blood that seeped through the bandage every time you took a breath, while you gathered enough courage to speak without your voice wavering.

“I’m sorry. You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back, and that could’ve been the last-”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You sat in silence with him for a while, leaning your head against his shoulder as he stroked your hair. Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.

“I saw what you did to Ian.”

You choked out a laugh despite the pain that ripped through you while doing so. “Yeah, I left him in pretty bad shape, didn’t I?”

Aaron nodded, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Most people wouldn't be able to escape a serial killer.”

“Well, I’m not most people, Hotchner.”

“That’s for sure.”

+++++

The rest of the team left for D.C. the next morning, but Aaron stayed to drive you home once you were discharged from the hospital. First, however, he dropped you off at the FBI field office to talk with Agent Milenka while he called Jessica to ask if she’d mind watching Jack for a few more days, explaining what happened to you. She practically viewed you as a sister, and after recovering from the initial horror, was happy to agree.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re alive!” Agent MIlenka called brightly as you limped into her office, bumping your crutched on the doorframe.

You chuckled. “Sadly, I am. Aaron told me it was you who figured out Foster had taken me. How’d you know?”

Milenka shrugged. “I may not be a profiler, but I sure as hell can tell when someone’s not right. The guy went almost crazy when you left New York. It just made sense.”

“But if that was his stressor, he would’ve started murdering earlier.”

“We thought at first that finding out about you and Agent Hotchner might’ve been the stressor, but it was impossible to tell when he’d found out, so we switched gears. I fired Ian a few months ago because he’d just been getting worse and worse, and eventually was a liability on cases. The last straw was him failing his psych evaluation. Maybe he felt that losing his FBI job meant he lost his last chance to be with you if he’d been hoping to transfer to your unit someday.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s around the time the kidnappings started, isn’t it?”

Milenka nodded. The two of you stood in her office in comfortable silence for a bit, until she stood up from her desk, crossing the distance between you and engulfing you in a nervous hug. She pulled away fairly quickly, most likely out of fear of hurting you, and awkwardly patted you twice on the shoulder. “Take care, Agent.”

“You too, Milenka.”

You turned to go, but stopped when you heard Milenka call, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotchner’s a good guy. Don’t let that one get away.”

You merely offered her a smile, then strode out of her office as elegantly as one can with a limp.

+++++

The ride home was nice, full of easy discussion, laughter, and a few guilty looks that Aaron snuck at your stitched-up side, wishing he’d listened to you.

You made a joke he didn’t hear, and leaned over in your seat so you could wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name in a sing-song voice.

“Aaron, you good?”

Aaron shook his head slightly, rubbed his eyes, then turned towards you. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You hummed in affirmation, then turned towards the window. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, until you arrived at Aaron’s house. You spent practically all of your time there. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped foot into your apartment. Aaron helped you into the house and to your shared bed, where you passed out immediately. You vaguely heard a soft whisper of “sleep well” before you were out cold.

Aaron watched you for what felt like hours, feeling pent-up stress and anger roll off of him in waves as he silently stroked your hair, grateful beyond words that you’d lived. You murmured something in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like “I love you,” before rolling over to curl against his chest, nuzzling your head against the crook of his neck. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. Aaron basked in the rare feeling of relaxation, thinking about how nice it would be to bottle up this feeling and keep it forever, until sleep finally pulled him into its soft clutches. And for once, with you safely nestled into him, he slept easily. He still hadn’t proposed, but that was okay. Now that you were safe, you two had all the time in the world.