#someone lmk what her last name is so i can tag her properly

[clarawatson]

It Only Takes A Taste (2)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded) Summary: it’s your second time meeting Aaron. He’s still flustered and precious but he (might) manage to give you his number. W/C: 2113 Warnings: none yet! A/N: i haven’t got chapter names yet, just accept they’re all called ‘it only takes a taste’ haha. AO3 tags: @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 (if you want to get added, lmk!!) Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

The next time you meet him, it’s 2am. Rita’s three weeks off her due date. She’s been staying at Joe’s place, with his wife, because the heating’s gone out in her apartment and her super is a foul man. If you were inclined to murder, he’d be first on your list. Right now she’s out the back, trying to wipe chocolate sauce off her uniform. The baby’s been kicking for hours and knocks things around the counter sometimes. At least it isn’t throwing her ribs out this time. 

There’s a couple of teens drinking milkshakes in the window, they’ve snuck out after bedtime and they’re giggling to each other about how bad they are. You’ve seen their parents drive by twice (they’re regulars after school) but no one’s come in yet.

The agent drives by, and then does a u-turn and comes back. It was literally a double take, no matter how you look at it. You clearly saw him slow down and try to look in the window as he tried (desperately tried) to stay on the main road. And then he’d turned around and come back. 

He’s even prettier dry than he was wet. (Your mind spirals to where that could have gone, which is not something you expected from a 2am shift). He’s loosened his tie and his hair is falling free of the gel. He looks less tired, and yet more tired. A different kind of tired. This one would be fixed by a good night’s sleep.

“Hi,” he says with a little quirk in his lip that could be him fighting off a smile.

“Hi,” you return with a full smile. He sits in front of you and steeples his fingers under his chin.

“I’m Aaron.”

A fortnight you’ve been wondering his name and he just swans in and hands it to you on a silver platter. Bless him and his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y/n,” you introduce. “And what can I get for you tonight, Aaron?”

“Maybe not a coffee.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you. He has such a cheeky smile you almost want to reach over and wipe it off his lips. “A hot chocolate would do. I’ve got to sleep enough to take my kid to school.”

“Have here?” Your hands hover over the in-cups and the out-cups. He taps his finger against his chin.

“In.” He folds his hands and you notice he’s not wearing a wedding ring. Kid, no wedding ring, weird hours. Could be a score, could be a serial killer. Could be both! No. Not both. There will be no fraternising with serial killers. Not if you respect your life. 

Would it be weird to ask him where he works? If he works for one of the alphabet soups, will it get you in trouble? Maybe. People don’t like you poking around when sensitive information could be involved. You still ask anyway while the coffee machine has it’s little dummy spit at having to work at two in the morning.

“Quantico,” he says. He probably saw you trying to figure out how to ask. And that’s really all he can say. Maybe. He waggles his eyebrows just a little and you think he’s maybe a little too cheeky for this early in the morning. If Rita was working she’d be swooning all over him. 

“That’s very prestigious, but, sir, I don’t think you have the security clearance to be in this diner if you only work at Quantico. We deal with Area 51.”

“Long commute,” he teases.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what the uneducated think. I can break a few rules as long as you don’t start asking questions. No asking about where they keep the aliens, okay?”

“Never.” He wraps his hands around the mug as you push it to him, absorbing it’s warmth. 

“Did your son like the cookie?” you ask. Is it weird to remember he has a son after one interaction? Or the cookie? But he smiles. It’s okay. 

“He’s actually in love with it. He’s not stopped talking about it. I think my sister-in-law might kill me.”

“Joe’s magic in the kitchen. I’ll save a couple of cookies if you know when you’ll be in next?”

Is that too forward? Maybe. He pulls out a little day book and places it before him.

“Is Thursday too soon?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You make a note to tell Joe you’re working on Thursday. “Sounds like a good day to collect a cookie.”

“If someone could cut this monster out of me, that would be GREAT!” Rita yells in the kitchen. Her voice is still far too loud out here. Aaron finally drops his gaze from yours, grinning into his hot chocolate.

“Shit, babes, I’m serious. I’ll got for a pocket knife at this point. I’m hot, and it’s not hot, I have to piss every four minutes, I can’t even sit in a car properly and taking the MET is stupid because I still have to pee!” She stops up short, seeing Aaron, and blinks as if she could erase her last comment. “Hi, sorry, you’re rain boy.”

“I prefer Raymond.”

There’s a beat where you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. The cheeky demeanor falls from his face.

“Rain Man! Tom Cruise! Smile." Aaron has no option but to smile at Rita. Too late you realise she's checking the alignment of his teeth to actually equate him to Tom Cruise. "Raymond, for sure. Shit, that’s funny,” Rita laughs, groans, and turns on her heel out the back. She needed to pee again. Aaron smiles just a little.

“Want some pie?” you offer. There’s still a bit left. Joe won’t be in for another hour or so, but there’s some in the oven to take out just before three. Aaron nods.

“Yeah, please.” He puts too much money in the tip jar again. Hands you the exact money for the pie. Had he looked at the menu online? Maybe he had. You take a slice out for him, then a slice for yourself. No harm in that. The whipped cream goes on his like a mountain. You put a bit beside your own pie slice, but Aaron’s grinning. 

He looks like he may do something childish. He doesn't, though, as you join him in pie eating. The teenagers start giggling about something they're watching on their phone. 

Rita comes back looking more tired than usual. Her whole body looks tired as she gets her purse and rubs her belly.

"Say bye to Rita," she says without much playful effort.

"Bye Rita," you return and kiss her cheek as she lifts it to you.

"And to Baby." 

"Bye Baby, be good for Mom." 

Rita snorts. Joe gives you a list of things to do while he's taking Rita home. Apparently Lola's coming in to replace Rita, but that's only going to be proven by Lola actually turning up. Aaron raises his hand around his fork and waves. Rita waves back and waddles out the back.

"Is she okay?" you ask Joe, and he nods. He waves goodbye to Aaron, even though he hasn't introduced himself yet. Aaron waves too. 

"That's a lot to worry about," Aaron says. You shrug and reach over the counter to Aaron's plate, taking some of his cream. He laughs and puts his arm around it to protect it.

"They're family. Less worrying, more caring." 

He nods as if he understands. "Might use that sometime."

"You're welcome to." 

He gives you a smile that only uses half his face. Gosh, he's cute. But it’s nothing more than fleeting night time visits, right? Okay, maybe not, he clearly turned his car around because he saw you working. You catch him staring at your left hand, studying it intently. No one wore rings at the diner, just because everything got stuck underneath them and there was nothing worse than having a maple syrup adorned wedding ring.

“There’s no one,” you tell him, which flusters him entirely. He smiles and looks down at his pie, blush creeping over his face. “Weird hours in a place like this? Hardly a brilliant base to build a relationship on.” 

“Yeah.” He might want to say more, but he’s smiling at you again. “Weird hours, strange place, know that story.”

“Sucks, hey?”

“Oh yeah.” 

The teens from the window go home when they’ve finished their milkshake. You tell them to get home safe and pray their parents don’t come in asking where they went. Aaron scraps his plate, scooping up the cream and pie soupy mess. 

“I have to go,” Aaron sighs. He runs his hand through his hair and his fingers get stuck in the left-over-gelly-mess. You smother a giggle as he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand out with tiny little crack-crack-crack’s. It sounds painful.

“I’m going to shower and get this shit out of my hair.”

“It’ll look nice without it in.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He blushes, returning to the man you’d met coming out of the rain. 

“Well I’ll remember that for next time.” 

Your heart jumps. Next time! There’ll be a next! Time!

“Listen, hey, um,” Aaron says as he stuffs a couple of bills into the tip jar. “Here--” he stops again, then shakes his head like he’s giving himself a vote of confidence. “This is…” he stops again and licks his lips, then pulls out a business card from his suit pocket. He scratches his number onto the blank back, and then Aaron at the top. “My number,” he managed to finish.

“Thanks,” you respond before wanting to smack your head onto the counter. Thanks?!?! There are a hundred better things to say. “W-when do you want me?” When do you want me??? “To be here, on Thursday, for the cookies.”

Aaron’s gone red. Your face is hot. This is a disaster. There’s no fixing this disaster. There’s no fixing it at all. But Aaron smiles all the same.

“U-uh. I’ll text you?” he looks so flustered. 

“You haven’t got my number,” you giggle, because he hasn’t. You’ve got his. He looks like a tomato as he blushes even more. “How about I text you my number, and you tell me when you’re free, and I’ll make sure there’s three cookies set aside for you that no one else buys.”

“Three?”

“You, your son, your sister-in-law.”

“I could really use you at work,” he laughs and… sits back down. Four seconds ago he was in such a rush to leave, and now he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. He’s so precious, you wish you could just put him in a jar and protect all that goodness from the evils of the world. Surely he couldn’t have met too many of them just yet? He’s still got a smile that could brighten up the night sky, people who’ve seen all the hurt and pain in the world can’t smile like that.

“I don’t think I’m clever enough to get into Quantico. Unless they like people serving them coffees,” you smile gently and he tilts his head while looking at you. A curious puppy. You want to lean over and squish his cheeks for thinking you could be anything more than a server at a roadside diner.

“You’d brighten the place up.”

“You brighten my place up.” Corny, highschool grade flirting. He smiles all the same. Can he smile any more than that? Probably not, he might combust and become a star. “You know you don’t have to keep putting money into the tip jar, right? Not the amount you do. Most people just put in their change.”

He looks at the tip jar. “It’s for Rita’s hospital bills, right? It’s why she won’t look at it, because she’s embarrassed, but also why you and Joe count every bill that goes in it.”

“Alright, Sherlock Holmes.”

“It says on the jar,” he jokes, and points to the permanent marker that’s bled through the otherside of the tip jar. You laugh. Aaron laughs.

“I do have to go.”

“Go,” you laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m off my shift.”

He nods, looking a little sad to go, but also a little excited. He must really love his son.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Aaron,” you return and watch him leave. Shit, he’s even cuter leaving. He even waves from his car before he drives off. You’re close to squealing when the bikie gang pull up, flooding the carpark, then all come in ready for their coffee. At least Aaron’s hot chocolate warmed up the machine for them.

[icycoolslushie]

I'm Not the Same Person You Left - Benmars One-shot

Not Sad | Sad | Sadder | Saddest

TW/CW: Romeo and Juliette, blood, gore, violence, suicide, basically everything that happens in These Violent Delights

Hope is a feather. It sticks on for some time, but eventually it falls.

Alisa looked at the door again and again, as if hoping Marshall would suddenly walk through. It wasn’t fair she was alive when he wasn’t.

Benedikt Montagov screamed raw in his sleep.

No one came. They were used to this by now.

But Roma hesitated outside of his cousin’s door. It was his fault Marshall was dead.

The thought hit him like the bullet had hit Marshall. Only he didn’t die; he got to live with betrayal and the knowledge that it was his fault everything had gone to pieces.

Why, oh why, had he ever trusted Juliette? he asked himself again and again, though he knew why: he had hope.

Now that hope was crushed just like the thought of never seeing Marshall again.

“Mars! Marshall. MARSHALL SEO.”

Benedikt had said Marshall’s name in every variation, language, and tone he knew. He had pleaded with anyone (whether they were above or below) to get Marshall back. He had done everything except kill himself to see Marshall. But it was killing him anyway.

All he wanted was one last hug. One last laugh. One last smile.

“Mars,” he whispered softly, one last time, a boy that knew nothing would ever be right again but still had a sliver of hope left, before he buried his face into his pillow and sobbed out whatever liquid was still left in him.

The damn loneliness was killing Marshall Seo as much as Tyler Cai’s bullet had been.

He wanted to make sure poor little Alisa was safe, Roma was okay, but most of all he wanted to see Benedikt.

Ben, the other part of his heart, the twin of his soul, the yin to his yang, the yang to his yin. Ben. The person he loved most.

It was his fault, he supposed, for getting so entangled with a person who loved someone from the enemy’s side. But was it his fault he had become attached to a person? His fault he had eventually started loving his best friend? Was it his damn fault that he lived in a city divided by a blood feud?

Even if it wasn’t, it was still his life. And there was nothing he could do but wait till Juliette could do something about her cousin so he could finally get out of this safehouse and into Ben’s arms.

Then it occurred to him: he could do something. How had he not realized? Maybe the desperation was driving him mad, that he actually considered the craziest idea he had ever had.

Damn doing a favour for Juliette Cai. He needed to see Benedikt. Let Benedikt know he was alive. He could sneak out of here, his face hidden in his hoodie, buy (or steal) a wig from the roadside sellers, get a mask of some sort, and sneak into the White Flowers territory.

Yes, that’s what he would do. The only thing that would keep him sane.

He took an empty water jug and smashed it against the windows, breaking the wood that had warded up the glass. He heard something smash below, and knew that the debris must have fallen. He ducked to make sure no one had seen him. After two minutes, when he figured that if anyone had seen the broken glass and chopped wood would have left, he lifted himself up and looked out the window—the first view of the city he had seen since almost two weeks. It looked . . . different. Less people. He supposed they were all being cautious, and at least no one would be able to see a random person climbing down a building.

Marshall messed up his hair, put his hood on, and took a deep breath before he put one leg out the window.

Grabbing the windowsill tightly, he put his other leg out the window as well.

He climbed down, slowly and steadily, years of practice guiding him. When the distance left was just half a meter, he jumped down.

He hid behind an empty cart, making sure no one had seen him, waiting out two minutes in which he re-adjusted his hood and started walking again.

Within ten minutes, he found the tailor shop he, Benedikt, and Roma used to go to get disguises. Usually they paid, but he had no money now, so he entered through the back and found a large purple overcoat, a russet wig, and a cat mask. He put them on, listening attentively in case someone came into the storage room, and left.

He walked for a bit, until he could tell he was in White Flower territory, and Ben’s place was just a block away.

He took to the wall to make sure no one could see him and sneakily made his way deeper into the buildings.

When he was able to see Ben’s window, he stopped. Did he really want to do this? Endanger Ben? Put Ben’s life into even more danger?

No.

No, he didn’t.

But his desire to see him was overwhelming and Marshall decided he could not live with the fact that he would’ve been able to see Ben but didn’t.

And no doubt Ben wanted to see him too.

He took off the overcoat, the wig, and the mask, letting his disguise slip away.

Marshall took a few steps forward away, and was able to touch the window. He knocked hesitantly, then paused. Then knocked again, properly this time.

He gasped.

Benedikt wasn’t sure whether he was dreaming again, had died, was looking at Marshall’s ghost, or was getting hallucinations.

And honestly, he didn’t care. He was getting to see Marshall again, and that was all that mattered.

Benedikt’s blonde hair was messed up, his face was flushed, his skin was way too pale, and he basically looked like a ghost. Someone who hadn’t eaten, slept, or even had proper hygiene. Marshall grimaced when he saw his best friend.

“I must have died and gone to heaven to receive such a present,” Benedikt said. “Or I must certainly be dreaming. Or is it your ghost? Haunting me? I know I should’ve saved you, but I couldn’t. So I’ll let you give me as much grief as you want as long as you’ll stay.”

“Benedikt, you’ve gone crazy,” Marshall remarked.

“Maybe it is the actual you. Only you could be so vexing.”

Marshall leaned back. What was wrong with Benedikt? Then he noticed a plate, full. Not a crumb had been eaten. Benedikt hadn’t eaten anything today, maybe not even drank. Suddenly he felt selfish for delaying this visit for so long. “Can I come in?” he asked, not bothering for the answer, already moving to de-attach the window lock.

Benedikt seemed to have resurrected, and he fiddled with the lock before Marshall, opening it, letting him in.

He looked behind and in all directions, making sure no one could see him, and crawled through the window.

Tripping at the last second, he toppled into Ben, who didn’t have much strength—after all, he had been eating less—and together they fell, Marshall half on top of Benedikt, half on top of the floor. He blushed, which wasn’t like him to do.

Before Benedikt had gathered his strength to sit up, Marshall did, and grabbed the plate with food on it. He helped Benedikt sit up, and slowly fed him small bites of an apple. As Ben had finished the apple, Marshall peeled an orange and fed him that.

Slowly, Benedikt regained his strength, his proper strength, as Marshall fed him a day’s worth of food. It seemed as if Benedikt had only been having only one or none meals a day.

Finally, when the plate was empty, Marshall moved his right index finger over Ben’s lips, wiping away bread crumbs. When he was done, Ben moaned.

“What?” Marshall asked, honestly surprised.

“I never knew—all these years, and God, I was dumb.”

“We’ve been over this. You are dumb.”

Benedikt laughed. “That—you making me laugh. I—” He shook his head. “Can I kiss your finger?”

“You’ll get your mouth dirty again.”

“Maybe I want that.”

Marshall sighed and stuck out his finger into Benedikt’s lap. Ben kissed it. Then Marshall ran his finger over Benedikt’s mouth again, wiping his face clean, taking care of him.

Benedikt had wished for one last hug, one last laugh, one last smile. Now we would make sure each one was memorable, plastered into his memory.

He would make sure he never lost Marshall again.

Marshall Seo the full moon outside, bringing hope and possibilities and new beginnings. He cherished the view and feelings like he cherished Benedikt.

It grows back, though.

Benedikt Montagov had lost a feather, but it had grown back.

He had hope again.

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer @shadowhuntingdemigod @reyna-herondale Lmk if you wanna be added or removed! (Also feel free to tag other people.) @safinssmontagov (Fantasy Appreciation Week)

[moth-based-cryptology]

Youtuber!Ralbert Au - Part Two

once again inspired by the wonderful and fabulous @we-are-inevitable and you can find her original concept here

part one to this series can be found here

and my valentine’s concept can be found here

i finally did it guys are you proud ✨

LETS DO THIS THING

now that we’re here, i realized i forgot some vital information last time (aka i hadn’t come up with it yet but ranting to jorja helped me solidify the world thank you mother goose)

so race’s online handle is radioactive racer, and albert’s is, as we know, chaotic red

both of these come from when they were in middle school and had just made vine accounts

albert’s entire account was just videos of race doing dumb shit while he cackled in the background

race’s was just memes

but because this was middle school, race looks WILDLY DIFFERENT compared to now

he was in his full dyed hair and guyliner phase, and before he grew 8 inches the summer before freshman year, so he’s fairly unrecognizable in the vines of him (plus,,,, they were dumb 13 year olds, only their friends saw their vines)

but there’s just,,,, an account full of very cringe videos of 7th grade racetrack higgins on the internet that nobody’s connected to them yet, so we’ll do something with that eventually

now back to your regularly scheduled programming ✨

so race and ‘red’ announced they were dating about a month ago, and it’s getting increasingly difficult to make sure al’s face isn’t visible in any clips

also both of their channels are gaining more traction, and race is getting recognized more in public (which he adores, i might add)

but it means that eventually someone’s going to make the connection between the redhead race is walking around with and chaotic red

so despite how anxious it makes him

how genuinely terrified he is that he won’t live up to expectations and everyone will be disappointed

he decides to post a Q&A video to his channel and reveal his identity

it starts with him adjusting the focus onto the couch in their living room, before his stocky frame, black sabbath shirt, jewelry and freckles walk on screen, and he sits down

if anybody had any idea what to expect, the crooked grin, lip ring and custom snapback probably weren’t terribly high on their list

he lets out a breath and his grin gets a bit wider, before he waves into the camera “hey guys! so,,,, this is probably a bit out of left field, but i wanted to properly introduce myself. i’m albert, nice to meet you, but please, call me red.”

his eyes flicker to behind the camera and he rolls his eyes slightly at race’s chuckling that barely audible to the audience

“don’t you dare laugh at me, i’ve never done this before!”

“you’re doing great babe, you’re just a massive dork.”

“stuff it, blondie.”

al can’t really hold back his laughter, not completely, so he huffs a bit before turning back to the camera and properly answer questions to “let the people get to know me”

the dynamic from race’s original video revealing their roommates is flipped

the audience finally getting to see that albert’s grin pulls up slightly farther on the left side than the right

or that he fidgets with his lip ring when he’s thinking through an answer

or the utterly s o f t look he has in his eyes when he looks at racer, one that seriously doesn’t match his mischievous expression or abrasive voice

he answers questions with more ease than he expected, excited to finally be sharing, but once it comes time to hit upload he freezes

“race i don’t think i can do this”

“of course you can sweetheart, everyone already loves you”

“but what if they’re disappointed? what if i’m not cool or interesting or attractive enough? what if-“

“al i k n o w you did not just look at me with t h a t face and claim to not be ‘attractive enough’. attractive enough for who, red? people that are gonna say mean shit anyway?”

al ends up hitting the upload button and promptly hitting his forehead on his desk in anguish cause holy shit what’d i just do

all his worrying ends up being for nothing because everyone absolutely adores him and won’t stop saying how p r o u d they are and how pretty he is

“i told you, dumbass. you’re the prettiest person i know.”

“stop it, you sap.”

he starts using face cams for his (and race’s, when he’s on the chaotic red channel) gameplays and his focused face is s o c u t e

race finally doesn’t have to be sneaky or beg him to take pictures anymore

race is also incredibly excited to not have to aggressively edit all his videos to make sure you can’t see al’s face/hear his name in any of them

race “accidentally” leaves the clip of them slow dancing in the kitchen to ed sheeran in the vlog right after the face reveal

when al next films a sit down video, race is behind the camera, and they’re going through old pictures of albert from childhood (most of them have race in them too, he might as well be there)

this is when the fans discover albert blushes when he’s embarrassed

this video is also how everyone connects the old chaotic red vine account to them and race is m o r t i f i e d

they make it to a picture of them just after they got together, race leaning into albert’s side loosing his shit at something jack is doing off camera, but in-the-picture albert is too busy looking completely head over heels for race to notice whatever they’re doing over there

al just grins and looks up at race with the same stupid mushy expression

“that’s when i knew i was really in love with you”

you can basically hear race m e l t behind the camera and he just tackles al into a hug on the couch and it’s SUCH a cute couple-y moment

“yeah, and you were calling m e the sap earlier. s u r e, whatever helps you sleep at night, albie.”

“it ain’t sappy if it’s true, tonio.”

and editing-al cuts it off, but race had untucked his face from al’s neck and dragged him into a kiss

when he finally got back to filming, al may or may not have had to use cover up on his neck to make it less conspicuous, but that’s neither here nor there to be honest

also this isn’t a necessary addition but every once in awhile race or al will forget to cover up marks on their necks before filming and get absolutely ROASTED on twitter

i have a thousand more ideas for this au so i promise i will be making more at some point but here’s ✨this✨ for now

lmk if you want me to add you to a tag list or whatever cause i’m down with that

ok fín