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#various photos of food and mentions of food under the cut
dovesndecay · 6 hours
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It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!
The Introduction Spiel:
Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)
Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.
I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.
We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.
I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!
What I Make
I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!
Writing
I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!
You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)
When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.
Photography
I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.
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And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!
A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.
CODE: PDHHTR
Artwork
I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:
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I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.
Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.
The Needs:
The Bills: $1,100
Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.
More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.
I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.
The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.
($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)
If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:
PayPal | (link)
Venmo | (dovesndecay)
Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)
If you can, and only if you can.
The It Would Be Cools:
Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.
I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.
I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.
For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.
Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.
Okay, now what?
Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.
The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.
But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.
Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.
I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.
Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!
🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤
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hungerpunch · 5 months
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starting in april '23 i used bereal to take one picture per day at a random time decided by the app. if you don't know, it works by sending a push notification at a randomized time and you have i think 2 minutes to take a photo. every photo uses both your phone's front-facing camera and your rear camera, so you get a capture of your surroundings as well as your own face. there are no filters, there is no editing. you can follow your friends but there is no algorithm, there are no tags, there is no search, it's chronological. there are no ads (yet). when the next push happens, the one previous is removed from the feed. i follow 12 friends so i'm only ever seeing 12 photos max. it is beautiful in its simplicity and honesty to me.
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anyway i became invested bc i liked the idea of being able to download all my photos at the end of the year and reviewing them. it's been really interesting, fun, illuminating, made me think about how i spent most of my time (frowning in front of my work laptop), and see what i want to change going forward (more outside, more community, more smiling).
selfies under the cut, which i will eventually remove from this post dw.
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i spent what felt like too much time in the car this year. there were definitely lots of trips that necessitated a car, don't get me wrong, but so then i want to create more opportunities to not use the car. i already walk everywhere i feel i'm able, but walking isn't my only alternative. maybe if i'm going on a trip where i don't have a lot of stuff to take or bring back but i still want to take munch, i figure out how to take the train instead. or maybe if there's an errand to run and the weather is not dangerous, we take the bike.
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left: morning snap. a regular weekday for me. i prefer working from home but it does pose its own challenges; most days, i'm rolling out of bed at the last second to get right to my computer. there's no intention behind the coffee i make or any breakfast i might have, it's just whatever is easiest (and sometimes nothing at all). a 2024 goal is to force myself to get up a little earlier so i can take my time brewing good coffee, selecting something to eat, and maybe do a little stretching or reading before going to work.
right: more food. i got into a really bad habit of just putting off eating and putting off eating during the workday because i was so busy. "after i finish this one last thing" i'd say, and then that thing would become two, three, etc. and i wouldn't be eating lunch til 3pm. i want to start carving out an actual lunch break for myself again.
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this is what i want more of!!! more outside, more being with community, more exploring, more smiling, more caring, more. i don't mean being in constant action i just mean more of what's good. more intentional resting. more intentional nourishing. more intentional eating and hugging and reading and snuggling and kissing and napping and dancing and protesting and listening and more life. more being engaged in living my life.
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sweetheartsaku · 2 months
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—HAIKYU!! various ; how deep is your love?
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a/n ; [gn!reader] kinda fem implied in kawa's and kuroo's 😓 do yall like the new layout?? c: suggestive if you squint extremely hard in kuroo's .. i honestly dont know if im writing this timeskip or pre timeskip its 3am 😣
— characters : oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo
part 2 ! ♡ akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna
jade vine !
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tooru oikawa ; SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, fana huez
has 'i love you' wars and he MUST win or he will tackle you (affectionate)
takes the BEST candid photos of you and puts so much love into the following insta post. has you as his wallpaper too (please match with him) (he'd also have a highlight just w pics of you😞)
please NEVER do that 'wipe their kiss off' trend because he will actually not talk to you for DAYS and gets all sulky until you apologize. (he will get all cocky all over again)
core memory from his teamates. bae was explaining to his teamates about new volley nerd talk blablabla and they notice his nails painted in a faint pink (for a fun date night, thinking no one will notice)
issei BURSTS out laughing and instantly points it out. now seijoh4 NEVER lets him live it down
always the first person to notice when you use a new shampoo or perfume.
cuddling, (you being the little spoon╰(*´︶`*)╯♡) you can feel his breath hitch when his lips reach your neck
before you could ask why he's stopped inching closer he's already manages to whisper out, "did you start using a new shampoo?" yes. yes you have
do his skincare with him please ! he loves it. he loves when he places you on the bathroom counter and you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves when you're so gentle with the toner, he loves when you graze your delicate fingers over his beautiful long lashes, he loves when you make sure you don't cut him when snipping the face mask so it fits a little more snug, EVERYTHING. (he is sunoo coded)
osamu miya ; good looking - suki waterhouse
loves your tummy SO much. doesn't care about shape or form, he just likes the feeling that you're being fed. squish. or pat. he loves it. have i mentioned he loves your tummy?
when his dad leave the twins at home its always osamu at the stove, please keep atsumu in a 5 mile radius AWAY from the kitchen
SPOON FEEDS YOU. please i need him. on days you're too tired to move a muscle, days where you're too sick to open your eyes, be prepared to feel his hand on the back of your head and one below your chin ready to feed you!! once you've sat yourself up he feeds you so gently... osamu miya i need you
when you're really tired from work, he will send meals to your workplace. if you work at home and sees you barely able to keep an eye open, you will see his hand under a spoon of your favourite meal. he's not the best with it, but he's trying 🥹 he means it with all his heart and hearing you say the food is really warm in your stomach, his heart feels warm too (о´∀`о)
my mans is SNATCHED. slide your hands around his waist, poke it a little do WHATEVER. your hands have probably been on his waist more than his hands on yours.
i think his core is pretty well built. have we seen it in the anime or manga? maybe. but from what i've seen, his physique is very 😳 (a tad bit better than his brother's i fear)
cooking together!!! different recipes each date, basking in each other's presence. its always so fun and the results are always almost flawless!
at one-point y'all were making cupcakes, it was literally osamu baking them and you decorated it.
AND OBVIOUSLY the basic, he would routinely give you handmade onigiri, in different shapes, flavours and whatever you like ✨
kei tsukishima ; the only exception - paramore
kinda scowls at you when you put your hands under his shirt but secretly really loves it so when you slither your hands away he instantly places your hands back and make sure your hands STAY there. bonus points if you have warm body temperature. he likes the feeling of your warm hands on his slightly colder body.
his wardrobe has drastically evolved from muted tones to slightly lighter and vibrant clothing ever since you insisted on getting matching stuff!!
WILL say he is not a jewellery person but collects, keeps and takes care of all the little trinkets you give him DAILY. he has a little sticker on the edge of one of his books and a little moon sticker on the end piece of his sports glasses
he also defineitely has really thick curly blond lashes. you say they are one of his charming points but he gets all flustered. when you insist to put clear mascara on them, he doesn't really look like he has a problem with it 🥹
what could his ahh possibly be listening to with those headphones on so often (real)
sends you playlists at an insane hour that go for insane amounts of time. but i KNOW his taste is immaculate. every song always gives you goosebumps or makes your heart tighten
please do a spotify blend with him (he was gonna ask you, but you beat him to it)(he was shy)
oh AND the shared playlists actually are insane!! so much good music all at once?? crazy yall 😭😭 (wave to earth, cody fry, the smiths, daniel caesar, rex orange county)
shoyo hinata ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande
honestly, out of all these men HINATA SHOYO is the BEST candidate for taking care of a person except himself. has no limits in his stamina, and will only listen to you when you ask him maybe its time for a break. does he overwork? not necessarily. does he work too hard? yes, in a positive way. please remind him to eat because he will forget sometimes
he will NEVER admit he likes being the little spoon LMAO he finds being vunerable in your arms a tad bit silly, and it bugs him. after a long week of practice games and insisting kageyama and yachi to practice with him the instant he falls on the bed, he finds himself melting into your touch. your voice gets a little more buttery and he loves it, falling asleep instantly
hes probably a hard sleeper too 😭 he wont wake up till he feels your cold hands on his face or the sunbeams from the curtain literally bleed into the sheets and steal its colour
PLEASE STROKE HIS HAIR. he loves it. he absolutely loves it. again, melts into your touch like ice-cream. his heart will feel tight and he has a lil' blush 🥹 whats even more priceless is his lips slightly agape after hes fallen asleep... how can you NOT love this man
one of the only boys on this list who will LET you put little pink bows or style his hair in braids and clips. (if you're imagining timeskip hinata, you have attempted to put a little bow around his bicep but you underestimated its size and it BROKE. gosh what an experience)
DANCES WITH YOU EVERYWHERE!!! omg i love him so much. doesn't care if you have two left feet, he just loves the feeling in his heart when he sees your smile as he spins you around. in the rain, in big empty rooms, in the kitchen, anywhere.
loves the idea of promise rings or little trinkets that ensure he gets to have you forever!!
kiyoomi sakusa ; washing machine - VANISHING GIRL, rosemary fairweather
PLEASE braid this man's hair. 😞 he pretends to despise it and thinks you don't notice when he literally melts under your touch. he feels safe 'nd comfy and hopes it lasts forever, when your hand retracts he has a lil' pout
notices when you've been wearing your favourite hood for a couple days straight, has a little scowl under his mask and throws one of his jackets at you. he only gives you the wind-breakers that are 100% cotton or the ones he just knows you like.
he uses this as an excuse to share his clothes with you. its safe to assume its his love language under-cover!
HE IS SO ASS WITH PDA all you get is him giving you hand sanitizer before eating meals or snacks. its only you though, don't tell him that.
BUT sometimes when he feels like it, he will take your hand and put it HIS pocket so "your hands are always sheltered from germs" now what type of bs is THAT. (you love this bs)
can be snarky. sometimes he gets the slightest eenie meenie miniest bit cocky, and its very noticable. has the ability to be a little bit of a tease but not in a pestering way more like a little smartass way LMAO.
tetsuro kuroo ; never lose me - flo milli
always has his hand in the back pocket of your pants. that was it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (to feel your butt? no idea.)
tutor sessions always unbearable. either you're too busy staring at his biceps, or you're sighing that he's made a little pop quiz for you!! tell him it sucks please
if he notices it gets a bit too much or overwhelming for you over the week or before study dates, insists to take you out instead (what a gentleman!! kuroo tetsuro come into my life)
extremely consistent with routine. good morning and good night text DAILY no matter how busy he is, he WILL find a way (i like to think its his way or the high way #kingofprovocation /hj). very good at getting the things he wants in a non-manipulative way but with simply logic and brains
yeah as captain hes no. #1 but he is also no. #1 waist CLUTCHER. his hands are always on you somehow even in the slightest way, but never pervy. he just likes having his hands on you! bonus points if you have hip dips, he loves it so much. he finds it as a perfect spot to place his hands on (btw ppl w hipdips yall are BEAUTIFUL!! 🥹)
i feel as he has a possessive side as well. small, but more noticable compared to someone else. will not hesitate to stare someone (or recite chemistry nerd stuff 🙁) down for looking at you a little too long :3
when he sees you post or sees himself in your instagram or tiktok dumps, his heart tightens a bit in the best way possible. when you mention him in the post he only reacts with a heart but he's actually going insane
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raccoonspooky · 1 year
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If the slashers had dating profiles:
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Slashers included: Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, All 3 Sinclair brothers, Bubba Sawyer. Micheal Meyers, Billy Lenz, Leslie Vernon
X Reader format. Gender neutral. Slight nsfw
Jason Voorhees:
The profile has several burry pictures of trees and what you think is some kind of shambly looking cabin. There’s picture of a bee on a weirdly gnarled looking hand with an offputting blueish green color to his skin. You figure that it must be the lighting and there’s nothing to be alarmed with. His profile description is wordless save for a bunch of emojis, trees and flowers and a campfire.
His height is listed as 7’0 so… you swipe right immediately.
Brahms Heelshire:
Theres several pictures of a dapper little doll doing things. Sitting in a chair, playing with blocks… You swipe through them intrigued by the strange little doll and lastly theres mirror selfie of a man holding the doll, the camera flash conceals his face but you’re able to get a nice eyeful of a tempting hairy chest. The doll is creepy but… if that’s his owner, he cant be too bad. Everyone has hobbies!
His height is listed and he’s a respectable 6’4. Under “Hobbies:” he’s written “Dolls.”, and added an emoji of a violin. You’ve always had a weakness for artsy guys. You figure he’s just some hipster. He’s selected various tags to mention he’s a homebody, and he’s looking for a long term relationship, and he’s a homeowner??? You’re sold.
Bo Sinclair:
Pictures of a dirty truck. Several memes about mechanics. You would’ve immediately swiped No, but he’s uploaded quite a few pictures to go through. Amongst the unfunny memegenerator images and past the ones showcasing a dirty old truck, there are several selfies to go through and the guy is just drop dead gorgeous. His jawline could cut butter. He’s got sparkly blue eyes and god damn does he know how to take a proper thirst trap.
There are a number of red flags unfortunately, his description is extremely long and it says nothing about himself besides what you can infer from his LONG list of what he’s looking for in a partner. He wants obedience, a good listener, someone who’s not afraid to get dirty, someone to cook and clean and do his laundry. It all makes your eyes roll. The weirdest part of his profile is that he’s selected that he’s looking for short term things, and that he’s not wanting to be tied down…? Yet he seems to be looking for someone who will just about chew his food for him.
To you, he seems like an overgrown manchild with a pretty face. But… if he’s only looking for fun, you could really do worse when it came to a no strings attached dick appointments. His page says he’s from Louisiana and you wonder what his voice sounds like… As you’re debating whether or not to swipe right, your phone buzzes with a notification that Bo’s superliked your profile.
Vincent Sinclair:
The first image of his profile is purely black and you think that it must be a blank profile. On a whim you read the tags he’s selected, and his interests include several different art mediums. You swipe past the black header image to see several examples of his work, he’s skilled in everything he does and wax figures are a pretty interesting medium. It’s not everyday that you find someone who specializes in working with wax.
His description is blank and he’s not selected anything in terms of what he’s looking for. Even so, you swipe right in hopes you’ll match so you can ask him a load of questions. Mysterious as the profile is, you have to admit that the guy is talented.
Lester Sinclair:
The photos in his profile are a little yikes. Though he’s not holding fish like every other embarrassing profile on this website, there are a number of photos involving dead animals. In one of the photos, the guy is squatting near a bloated gator, pointing and grinning. In another photo, a grimy hand holds a flattened rodent of undeterminable classification.
In the photos with his face, he’s grinning in every one of them. His clothes are kind of grimy and you can assume that he must be some kind of roadkill guy, hopefully as a job rather than as an enthusiast. He’s got such a sunshiney smile and you think he’s cute besides the grime.
The description attached to his profile is just adorable. Everything that he’s selected displays that he’s on this site genuinely because he’s looking for someone to love. Long term or short term, but nothing casual. He’s written that he doesnt have much but he’ll make up for it by ‘Lovin’ ya.” and its just so sweet that youre hitting that superlike button to send him a message immediately.
Micheal Meyers:
Blank profile. No description. No pictures besides a plain black image.
You accidentally swipe right rather than left with a catastrophic finger fumble and you’re surprised that your phone chimes with an immediate match. A moment later, you recieve a message and it’s just one emoji. A knife. Yikes! Blocked!
Despite the block. Your phone chimes with another message and you’re met with a photo. Its blurred for your safety, just in case its an unwanted dick pic. You have to click on the photo and what you’re met with is so, so much worse than the scummiest dick pic. The photo looks like a photo of the outside of your house.
Billy Lenz:
His photos are almost incomprehensibly strange. Everything’s blurry. One of the photos was a blur of movement of which you could vaguely make out a human shaped thing and a single eye. Everything is offputting and strange. The only non blurry picture is (1) single photo of a fluffy white cat.
In his description, theres a very strange paragraph about someone named Agnes, accompanied with baby emojis and then several cat emojis.
At the very end of his paragraph, you see that he’s selected several tags to imply he’s looking for something quick and dirty. The only coherent part of his entire profile is a single, long winded sentence about his apparent desperation to eat pussy.
Bubba Sawyer
Several photos of a chicken. He’s used one of those filter apps to put hearts and other things around the chicken.
Besides chicken pics, there’s a picture what looks to be a windchime made of bones. It’s hung up on a porch, looking out toward a green field with the sun making everything look warm and tinted orange. It’s a nice photo, Bubba seems to have a good attention to detail.
He’s selected no tags to help you determine what he’s looking for. But he’s listed his height and weight. He’s a big… big guy. You swipe right in hopes that you can beg the guy for a face reveal.
Leslie Vernon:
Finally! a guy who shows his face! His profile seems almost meticulously curated. He’s got all the things that would show up if you were to google “How to have the best dating profile.” Theres a photo of him with a dog, a photo of him covered in flour, a photo of him laughing and eating a salad. All the photos seem incredibly staged, which is…. strange.
His description is all about himself. He seems as if he’s been looking for an opportunity to talk about himself and he decided to use a dating website to do it. He mentions that he loves horror movies and that he’s in the “business.” You’re not sure what to make of that. Does he… make…?? horror movies? Does he run a blog or something?
At the end of his very, very long monologue that includes his favorite color and his all time favorite top five movies and music and everything under the sun— he closes his description by saying that he’s looking for his final girl. It’s cheeky and adorably stupid.
Strangeness aside, you love horror movies too, so you’re at least open for a fun discussion about them over drinks or something. He’s pretty much the only guy on this website that seems to know how to use it anyway.
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emberfrostlovesloki · 6 months
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Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]
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Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)
Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork. 
Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Fluff/angst/smut 
Word Count: 9.9K 
A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️
Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room,  mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know. 
List with all stories 
_y/n_ = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer) 
_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height). 
_s/l_ = short or long 
_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)
_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)
_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food
The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.” 
Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.” 
Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_  for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.
There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful,  poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.
Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie. 
It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road. 
Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,”  a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.” 
The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard. 
When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.
_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk. 
_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”
They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”
_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing,  he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it. 
Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet. 
He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.
Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team. 
The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them. 
The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security.  _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.
_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time. 
When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.
Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate. 
_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.
_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_  took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens. 
Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.
Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way. 
Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.
She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.
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ok, so!! there's also another little thing about luis and the merchant that i haven't seen anyone discuss. in luis' house in the village, you can see a few packages of food (like in the first picture in your post, near the doll; it looks like a tomato soup or something??). and in the merchant's spot near the lake you can see a box of similar packages (not the same though, as far as i remember, but still they're similar, in a sense that it's still some modern food and it looks out of place in this village. it's something we only see in luis's house) sorry i don't have any pictures tho :((
so what im trying to say is that i just love that through these tiny little details we actually get a glimpse of luis's everyday life in valdelobos. i mean, just imagine him taking a boat to go on a little grocery trip to the merchant 😭😭 and it also kind of implies that luis actually knew the merchant and interacted with him somewhat regularly. like, it's not even that big of a detail, but i just love thinking about it 😭
(also don't stress yourself over answering these asks quickly!! there's no rush. i hope you're doing well!!)
Quick TW for discussions of food, starvation and animal death under cut!
@silverhexrt Thank you SO much for being so patient with me for this!!!!!!!! BUT YES YES YES OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO ABSOLUTELY RIGHT I’ve seen people talk about the canisters of food lying around his old childhood home but not NEARLY enough about the fact that those same packets of food are found elsewhere in the game too!!!!! Unfortunately I don’t have a photo on-hand of the exact model you’re talking about near the Merchant, but I do have a photo of one of the packets of tomato soup you were talking about;
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Alongside the tomato soup there’s also various spices and I THIIIIIIINK what’s supposed to be a packet of noodles????
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Needless to say Luis most likely did NOT have a very good diet during the last of his time spent in Valdelobos HFNUEENEUNDIDMD
And again I don’t have photos of the exact model you’re talking about but!!! YEAH!!!!!!!! You’re absolutely right!!!!!!!!!!!! Luis might’ve hung around the Merchant or even waited by his little corner stand for him to come back with decent food or cigarettes!!!! I doubt Luis would’ve been able to go along with him wherever he went cuz A) I think he would’ve escaped Valdelobos MUCH sooner if that were the case HCNWHENEUSN and B) The Merchant is kind of an enigma. Where’s he getting his stock from?????? Who knows!!!!!!!!!! He’s a mystery man we’ll never get answers for!!!!!!!!
It also makes me wonder WHY he gravitated towards those foods instead of just killing the livestock that hung around the village or eating the fish you can find hanging up on the side of the house. Did he feel bad??? Did he just not know how to effectively kill livestock????? Was he trying to preserve it???????? Or did he have a childhood preference?????? Did his Grandfather or whoever looked after him make him those foods??????? Did HE as a child wander into nearby towns to get those foods??????????????? How did his supply of food get so low????? Was Los Illuminados feeding him and the other scientists he worked with or were they starving them to death and Luis was the only one with a source of food???????????
I also wanna mention a theory a friend of mine @hamartia-grander put together- I’ll link the original post if I can find it but the tl;dr of their idea was ‘Hey! Y’know those yellow bits of paint that are splattered on crates n stuff that indicate there’s items inside in both the main game and Seperate Ways?? What if that was Luis who made them and put the items in to help himself escape later down the line?????’ And I think that paired with your theory that Luis hung around the Merchant for a while makes for a REALLY interesting narrative!!!!!!!
And also I am FAR from the first person to point this out but again. Luis clearly does NOT have a good diet while in Valdelobos. It makes me wonder if that added to the urgency of him trying to get out (I mean obviously but still HD EHENEISN HOW hungry was this guy) and if he DID survive, how would he react to returning to an environment where food is easily accessible???? How would that trauma and instinct to hoard come into play??????? Would he gain any weight as a sign of healing???????? It’s a VERY interesting subject to delve into but obviously one you’ve gotta handle with care
TL;DR is that I think people gloss over WAY too much the just. Straight-up HORROR of Luis’ situation. Like take all the supernatural elements away- this is a man trying his best to not starve to death and succumb to the same infection everyone around him has. He’s got no other scientists (they’re all dead) no other family (MEGA dead) and to me it makes the fact that his first and most important goal is helping the others instead of helping HIMSELF first all the more just. Devastating BDNEJEMSJXJ
Anyways this went SO OFF THE POINT YOU WERE MAKIMG DHENEYENDIDK but OUGH the idea of Luis and the Merchant just hanging out together trying to survive The Horrors best they can is!! SUCH a heart wrenching idea!!!!!! Thank you SO SO SO much for this ask I went INSANE over it clearly HDBEHENEJXNS
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dknuth · 1 year
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First Day in Jordan. A trip to Jerash
The ruins of the Roman city of Jerash are not included in the Jordan tour, so I arrange a driver for the day to go there. As long as I had the car and driver I added a stop at the Castle of Ajlun.
Breakfast here starts at 7:30 so I asked to start at 8:00. That was good for a couple of reasons: we were out of the city before traffic got bad, and at Jerash before many of the tour buses showed up, and we were done by midafternoon, so the temperatures were reasonable.
Amman, with a population of over 4,000,000, is big and sprawls. I can see at peak periods traffic would be terrible.
Our first stop was the Castle of Ajlun. It sits on a mountaintop at 1250 meters and has a commanding view of the countryside.
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It was built by the Arabs in 1185, destroyed by the Mongols in 1260, and they rebuilt by the Arabs. There was a suprising number of large rooms inside.
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Then we headed to the ruins of the Roman town of Jerash.
The town was laid out in about AD 70 by the Romans and and was occupied through the Byzantine era. It was one of the ten cities of the Decapolis. (Actually no one knows which towns the ten cities were. It just became the name of the region, and is mentioned in the Bible as such.)
It is one of the best preserved Roman ruins and it is certainly easy to understand the layout of the public areas of the city. You enter through the Triumphal Arch erected in 129AD for Hadrian's visit. (He actually stayed for almost a year.)
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Also at the south end is the Hippodrome. The arches around the curve of the south end, and some of the stands are still standing, so it's easy to understand the construction.
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The shell shaped arches supported the stands and provided spaces below.
There was the mosaic floor of a small Christian church nearby.
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At this point I hadn't realized the number and size of the churches in town. It was an interesting mix of temples to Artemis, Zeus and others and Christian churches including a cathedral.
There is a large oval plaza surrounded by columns with doric capitols.
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The main street heads straight north off the end of the plaza and runs all the way through town with colonnades on both sides.
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Along this street are located the various temple, markets and churches and additional gates.
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As an engineer I was very interested that they found a room under one building that had a waterway through it powering a waterwheel. The wheel used arms to power saws to cut stone. It's one of the earliest such mechanical devices found. A university built reconstruction of the mechanism.
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The layout of the churches and temples was a lot easier to understand in person than from photos. The third dimension really helps.
There is a theater at both ends of town, both well preserved.
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Strategically situated by the snack shop was this orange tabby that looks like the poor cousin of our guys. (Skinnier and scruffier but knows where the food is.)
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nagipops · 3 years
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Denji and his s/o babysitting <3
BABY GIRL
FEATURING: denji!
SUMMARY: in which you and your baby-hating boyfriend embark on a secret mission too retrieve a pink plastic spoon.
WARNINGS: profanity, mentions of food
A/N: this is pure crack and chaos and i love it.
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The image that came to mind for a “top secret mission” was definitely not the slobbering, babbling lump of a premature human wiggling around in front of you.
“I was expecting something a little more… menacing?”
“Hmph. Who does Aki think he is, assigning us to take care of this buggy caterpillar?”
You clapped a hand onto your boyfriend’s bony shoulder. “Well! Looks like it’s couple bonding day for us!”
“Ow, that hurt!” He swatted your hand away with a sweaty palm before he bashfully averted his gaze. “I… I hate babies. They scare me.”
“Hah! My brave, bold boyfriend… the almighty Chainsaw Man is afraid of mini adults?” You softly grasped his chin with your forefinger and thumb, fixing your eyes into a knowing gaze. “Good to know.”
You heard a grumble from behind you as you knelt down to meet the cooing baby at eye level. “Hello, Aiko, my boyfriend here is a big baby himself, so let’s all get along, alright?”
“Yaya!” The tiny girl waved her chubby arms in a gesture that looked suspiciously like she was pointing at the pouting boy behind you. “Ba-by!”
You flashed Denji a cheeky grin over your shoulder which was met with a dark scowl. “Yes, baby.” Snickering, you scooped the younger, smaller, diapered baby into your arms, lifting her up so she was face to face with the older, larger, hopefully-not-diapered baby. “This is Denji. Can you say Denji?”
“Benchee!” Aiko pressed her chubby little fingers onto your boyfriend’s face, smushing his eyes and nose under her tiny palm.
“Hey! I can’t— Bleh!” He struggled desperately as the baby giggled, mercilessly smacking his face. “Babe, help me out here?”
Chuckling, you pulled her into your chest once again. “Okay, Aiko, why don’t you go to papa’s arms for a little?”
“Papa— hey, if this is gonna be a new thing between us—” He stared in horror at the baby who was suddenly placed in his arms as his shoulders began to tremble. “Uhhhhhhhh…”
“Denji, hold still! Look up!” You centered his stunned face in the middle of your phone screen, snapping a barrage of photos of your bewildered boyfriend with a babbling baby in his arms. “Oh my god, this is adorable.”
“Stop taking— stop taking pictures and help me!” Aiko had begun to attack Denji’s face once again, yet this time, she was wailing like a siren with tears streaming down her chubby baby cheeks. His eyes widened with panic and fear as he frantically searched for something to distract her with. “She’s— shh, shh… don’t cry… (Y/N), she hates me!”
Grabbing what you hoped was her pacifier off of the coffee table in front of you, you tossed it to Denji who fumbled with it in one hand before plugging up the crying baby’s mouth with a pop.
Everyone in the room seemed to deflate at once, including Aiko.
“Ooookay, well, I think it’s time for a snack, because I’m hungry! You’re hungry too, right Denji?”
“No, actually before we came here I ate a slice of toast with—”
“I said, you’re hungry too, right Denji?”
He took one look into your pointed gaze and immediately caught on, bouncing the little girl in his arms. “Oh! Right, we are hungry, so let’s eat!”
Even Aiko seemed to perk up at that.
Denji stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the stocked refrigerator in front of him that was bursting at the seams.
“Well I’ll be damned.”
“Denji!” You clapped a hand over his mouth, casting a cautious glance at the baby over your shoulder. Sighing in relief to see her excitedly fiddling with a pink plastic spoon, you hissed into his ear, “Don’t swear!”
“Okay, okay! Sorry. But look at this, it’s heaven!” You could practically hear his voice melt as he slinked towards the refrigerator in a trance.
Dragging your boyfriend backwards by the back of his t-shirt, you slammed the fridge door shut. “Cut it out! She can’t even eat any of that stuff.” Grabbing his shoulders, you veered him to the marble countertops where an assortment of soft baby foods lay spread out.
His tongue immediately shot out of his mouth im disgust as he scanned the labels of the various jars. “Blech, spinach and pear? Cheese and carrot? Who’s designing this stuff?!” Seeming to search for the least grotesque flavor, his eyes lit up at a familiar label. “Ah, applesauce!”
“Sweet, let’s give that to her!” As Denji tossed the tiny cup into your hands, you ripped the lid off of the container and set it in front of Aiko, who was still fiddling with the plastic spoon in her hands. “Okay, time for yum-yums!” You attempted to reach for the pink utensil in her fubsy hands, but she immediately jerked it away from you. You tried to wrangle the spoon from her stubby little fingers once again, to no avail as she continued to wave it this way and that, just out of your reach.
Panting from the effort to steal this tiny plastic stick from a literal baby, you threw a helpless look over your shoulder at Denji, who was leaning against the fridge and observing the fiasco with a snickering grin. “Grab some popcorn, why don’t you. Help me!”
As if he was snapped back to reality as he realized who was barking commands to him, he immediately straightened his posture and performed a dedicated salute. “Yes, boss!”
Denji marched on over to the other side of Aiko’s high chair, so the two of you were surrounding her. “Nowhere to run,” he drawled in a low voice.
“We aren’t in a wild west movie, Denj.”
“Well, we should be!”
“Fine.” You cleared your throat, smothering your vocal cords with your best southern accent. “Quick draw, winner takes all.”
“You forgot to say, like, pardner or something.”
“If we were partners we wouldn’t be fighting in a quick draw!”
“Oh. Then, uh… cue tumbleweed, cue acoustic guitar music, cue countdown… On the count of three, three, two, one!”
“Three! Wait, wha—”
Denji lunged for the pink stick in Aiko’s grasp, but not before she could quickly jerk her arm away from him, giggling all the while. You took advantage of its positioning closer to your side and reached for the spoon, just as Aiko swung her arm to the other side, smacking Denji right in the center of his face with a thwack.
“Ow! Jeez, baby, why are you so strong?”
Aiko only chortled in response, clearly enjoying watching you two struggle to pry her weapon from her grasp.
“Damnit! Why is this stupid high chair— so— high?!” You waited for the rambunctious baby to rear the spoon back for another hit as Denji scrambled to regain his composure. “I got it!” you hollered as the spoon came just inches away from your face, reaching out to grab it, when—
“AHHHHHH!!!”
A spartan cry roared out as something barreled towards you at the speed of light, knocking you to the floor in a split second with a thunderous crack.
The wind kicked out of your lungs and pain seared throughout your entire body from the nape of your neck down to the tip of your tailbone. As you regained consciousness…
“What the— DENJI!” The bewildered face hovering over you was panting heavily as he braced himself with his arms planted on either side of your head. “What did you— oh my god, is the baby okay?!”
His astonished gaze shifted to his right hand, which he lifted to find a pink plastic prize inside. “I… I did it…” he breathed. His eyes widened as he remembered why the two of you were here in the first place. He rolled off of your body and onto his back, fixing his gaze on the high chair that was still upright.
A tiny giggle. “Hee hee! Benchee!”
The two of you lying on the kitchen floor sagged in relief at the confirmation that the baby in your temporary custody was, in fact, still alive.
“Denji… did you just tackle the love of your life to the ground, nearly giving them a concussion, just to retrieve a single plastic baby spoon?”
“Fuck yeah I did. I mean! Hell yeah I did! No, shit! Damnit! I uhhhh…”
“Yes, you did.” You patted Denji’s hand as the two of you lay side by side on the tiled kitchen floor, gazing up at the ceiling. “Yes, you did.”
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goldenkirstein · 3 years
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somewhere only we know
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chapter two: don't know where, don't know when
pairing: jean x gn! reader, mikasa ackerman x gn! platonic! reader
wc: 2.2k+
tags: angst, fluff, aot manga spoilers, mention of food/drink, mentions of death.
a/n: chapter two !! finally done my exams, this took me a while to finish but hopefully it sounds good and you enjoy it !! feedback is always appreciated
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The shrill noise of the kettle broke you out of your thoughts.
You reached over to the cupboard situated next to the stove, taking two tiny teacups alongside a teapot and set them down on the countertop. Hands moving like clockwork, you grabbed the loose leaf tea jar and placed two spoonful's in the teapot. Your hand moved to grasp the small cotton cloth from the counter, swiftly pouring the hot water into the teapot before placing the kettle back to cool down.
You chuckled at the sight in front of you; the teaware set adorning your family crest, the piece of cotton bearing the Azumabito clan’s symbol, and the tea blend was an old Braus family recipe. The entire house was like this, a mish-mash of objects from here and there, never truly fitting in where they were. You began setting up the small table, placing the teapot and teacups down. The raucous noise of the wooden chair scraping against the floor made you grimace.
Your fingers began to trace the delicate needlework on the cloth, occasionally catching on raised bumps of threads. It was the work of a skilled artisan as well as an amateur. Mikasa and her mother.
Waiting for Mikasa to return from her bath, your fingers traced the embroidered emblem, you began to get lost in your thoughts once again.
“Is the tea ready?” Mikasa’s soft voice interrupted your repetitive movements.
You quickly set down the cloth and shot her a kind smile. “Yeah, come sit.” You poured out the tea in her cup before pouring out a cup for yourself.
She accepted your invitation, sitting opposite you. The woman began scooping spoonfuls of sugar in her tea, an old habit from training years. You remembered how you once mistakenly took her cup, thinking it was yours until you took a sip and immediately spat out the sickeningly sweet liquid. The others and she wouldn’t stop laughing at you until Captain Levi had come and threatened you all, bearing that stone-cold expression that struck fear in your bones. How was he doing?
“Are you okay? You seem out of it today.” Mikasa looked at you; worried expression etched into her face, eyebrows scrunched together.
Your fingers circled the teacup, and you let out a sigh looking down at the fragrant liquid. You could lie, tell Mikasa you’re okay; knowing her, she wouldn’t prod you any further with questions. Though she would spend all night thinking about you, and you didn’t want to worry her. Option two was scarier, in your opinion; you could open up and tell her what was troubling you, Mikasa would undoubtedly be concerned, but she would appreciate your candidness.
Taking a deep breath in, you glanced back at the girl before your eyes landed on the frame behind her. “I’m just anxious about tomorrow,” you let out a nervous chuckle, eyes meeting Mikasa’s again.
“I already told you, we’re all a little different. It’s nothing-”
“No, it’s not that; I- what if they hate me? Mikasa, what if he hates me.” Your eyes shifted between the frame and Mikasa’s, voice coming out as a whisper.
She took a sip of her tea. Your name slipped out of her mouth in a tired sigh, “they would never, and Jean isn’t like that. He could never hate you.”
The framed picture behind Mikasa was of the scouts on their expedition to Marley. Sasha had pulled the lot of you inside the cramped shop, begging all of you to take a photograph. She had said that you all needed to document the momentous occasion; who knew when the opportunity would come again. Your beaming faces contrasted the scowl the Marleyan had on his face when you all crowded in his tiny shop. Commander Hange had even managed to get the Captain to join in, and subconsciously you thanked Sasha and Hange for their pestering. Who would have known that it would be one of the last times you would see them alive and breathing, that after that night, everything would change.
You noticed Mikasa’s soft smile in the picture, and Eren-who stood behind her, was looking at her instead of the box camera. Armin had his arm around Eren’s shoulders, and Jean and Connie were next to him, directly behind you. Your eyes trailed down Jean’s arm; it rested on your shoulder. You were sandwiched in between the Captain and Sasha, head resting on her shoulder. All of you were giving your best smiles, save for Eren. He was living through his hell, and the rest of you were oblivious to it. How could you have known?
He had stayed behind with you at the photographer’s studio after everyone had left to visit the other shops Marley had to offer. The both of you walked around, observing the various framed pictures the Marleyan had hung up to advertise his work.
Jean trailed softly behind, watching as your fingers traced and lingered on the stained brass frame.
“What do you suppose their stories were?” You turned your head, smiling at the boy behind you. He approached you, his finger and thumb hooked under his chin, as he thought of a story for the people seated in the photograph. You waited for him to amuse you with his foolish tall-tales, noticing that Jean screwed his eyes as he intently examined each person in the picture.
He raised his eyebrows, a grin breaking out on his face; he flickered his eyes to yours, “they’re a South-Marleyan family hiding a terrible secret. They’re those godforsaken Island Devils.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear.
You pulled away, head whipping back to see if the photographer had heard; thankfully, he was preoccupied with developing your photos. You spun back around to hiss at Jean, “You can’t just say that, you dipshit! What if he heard!”
Jean laughed at your stressed state, “Well, you don’t need to worry; he didn’t.”
You began to walk away from him, but before you could get far, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.” You looked back at him, his eyes pleading for you to stay.
You relaxed your shoulders and rolled your eyes at him, “wonder what shitty story you’ll come up with for our picture.”
“Brave heroes, their valiant efforts saved the world, and they were given mountains of gold and the finest wines possible to repay them for their kind acts.” He pulled you closer to him, and you giggled at his antics. “Oh yes, and one soldier more extraordinary than the rest-”
“Obviously, that’s me.” You quickly cut him off, silencing him with your remark. You gave a quizzical look at the boy, who was now sporting a noticeable blush.
He sharply inhaled and gave a smile, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the Marleyan shop owner began to talk, “Your jibber-jabbering is getting in the way of my work. If you’re not buying anything else, leave my store.”
Jean took your hand in his and offered the man a quick apology before pulling you out of the shop with him.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t held your hand before, and yet the simple action sent your heart fluttering. His hands were warm and his grip tight; you wanted to melt into his touch and never let go.
However, the moment was cut short, as once you were out of the shop, Jean promptly let go of your hand, apologetic eyes meeting yours, “didn’t mean to pull your hand, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
You flexed your hand to shake off the feeling of his slender fingers against the back of your palm. He didn’t want to hold your hand back then; would he want to now? Why were you desperately clinging onto that memory of him?
“Do you regret coming back with me?” Mikasa’s soft voice broke you out of your trance.
“No, God no. Don’t say that. If I had to go back and have the possibility to make a different choice, I would still go with you.” You looked straight at her, gaze conveying your unwavering resolve.
You brought your hands up to your face to rub your tired eyes. “I don’t regret coming with you. I just never got to see them one last time, and I don’t know, how do I face them?” You let out a frustrated sigh. “Before, I could at least say that, hey, these are your friends, you know them better than anyone else, but now-”
You shook your head and set your eyes upon the chestnut cabinet directly underneath the picture frame. “It’s like I’ve been iced out.” You raised an accusatory finger at the cabinet which was situated under the picture frame. “Three whole years and the only reason I know Jean's even with the rest of them is because of Armin.”
Inconspicuously placed, the cabinet blended into its surroundings; for the most part, it held dishes, pots and pans alongside any other trinkets that didn’t have a place to belong. However, in one of its chipped and worn drawers, tucked away under a false bottom, were several letters addressed to a Miss. Mikasa Ackerman from a distant relative in Hizuru. These letters, of course, were actually from a Mr. Armin Arlert, from Marley, detailing updates about the peace talks that involved him, the other scouts and the ex-warriors. The letters were always short and concise, never revealing too much, as a protective measure. The exact reason for why you had stashed them in a hidden compartment; to ensure that if these letters ever fell in the hands of Yeagerists, that they would not be able to grasp the entirety of what Armin’s plans were. However, it also meant you were left to fill in the missing pieces, also missing the whole story.
“I miss him, but who exactly am I missing? We’re both different people now, and I don’t know if I’m ready to face that.” You waited for a response from the dark-haired girl in front of you.
“That head of yours is your worst enemy.” You scoffed at her statement.
“Just listen to me for once, please?” Mikasa tentatively reached over to wrap her hands around yours.
“I understand that you’re scared; I am too. But you can’t keep getting lost in the ‘what if’s’ of a situation. Tell me, how long have we known Jean?”
“Eight, no, ten years?” You sighed, wondering where she was taking this.
“And tell me in those ten years has he ever decided anything without understanding other perspectives?”
“No, well-”
“Fights with Eren do not count.” Her eyebrows quirked up before she continued. “Jean is one of the most caring and compassionate men I know. He would want to know why you left before ever being absolutely positive that he hated you. Not that he would, he adores you; I’m sure of it even after all these years.”
In a way, she was right; you were making assumptions about his character despite knowing him for so long. Yet the nagging thought persisted in your mind. The only way to resolve it would be to speak with him, which brought upon another challenge. Even if he didn’t hate you, how would you gain the courage to talk to him after all this time?
“Your tea is cold. No point in drinking it now.” Mikasa stood up to clear the table, but you swiped it from her, giving her a weak smile before she could grab the cup.
You wrapped fingers around the teacup; the porcelain no longer radiated the heat from the liquid and felt cool to the touch. Mikasa watched you as you walked over to place the teacup on the kitchen counter. Her fingers skimmed over to grab the cloth with her family symbol ingrained on it.
“Mika, I don’t tell you this often, and I should, but thank-” Before you could finish your sentence, there was a knock at your door. Mikasa gave you a confused look; it was too early for the others to be arriving, so who could it be?
You hesitantly approached the door; the both of you rarely got visitors. Occasionally the Braus’ would come by, but even then, the family would let you know before they visited. Twisting the handle, a sheepish-looking young man met your gaze as you opened the door.
“Hand-deliverance of a letter from Her Majesty, Queen Reiss.” You stared at the boy wide-eyed, whipping your head back to look at Mikasa; she shared the same shocked expression.
Mumbling a quick thank you, you closed the door after the boy departed. The letter felt heavy in your hands; neither of you had spoken to Historia in “official” accordance. What could the Queen want?
Mikasa hurriedly made her way over to you, “what does the letter say?” She urged you to break the wax seal which hid the contents of the ever-elusive letter.
“The queen wishes to have us join her for dinner at her home.” You looked over at Mikasa before continuing to read the letter, “she wants us to bring Armin and the others as well.”
a/n: jean is coming dw, ik yall are waiting for that anddd ik that there hasn't been a lot of romance-y parts but there will be !! i would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and the series !! I am hoping to get these chapters out weekly thats the unofficial-official schedule as of rn
taglist: @httpglxssy, @keijikunn, @clean-soap, @lin-xoch
tagist form in pinned !!
Leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed reading this. I would appreciate it a lot <33
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karajaynetoday · 3 years
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i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings
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hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
I'll be honest, I'm alright with me
Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets
The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 
It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 
You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 
Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.
“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.
“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 
But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget
Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  
You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.
It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 
Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio
Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go
The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.
“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.
“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.
“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.
“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.
As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 
“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.
“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.
The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 
Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 
I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days
I'll be honest, It's better off this way
The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.
The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.
“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.
“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?
The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.
You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 
You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 
When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone
Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know
Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​
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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years
Text
Gilded Cage - Choose Your Own Whump
Here it is! My first attempt at a choose your own adventure type of whump story. In this story, Villain is kept by the Heroes as a prop for the media-- but what will they do when a rare chance at contacting the outside world presents itself?
CW//Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, implied torture, panic attacks
There was something about a gilded cage that made it worse than any other type of imprisonment.
Sure, it was comfortable. You were well provided for, fed and watered incredibly generously. But that, in and of itself, was one of the worst parts.
Being imprisoned, locked away in a cell somewhere with a big heavy padlock over the door, it meant that someone thought you were dangerous enough to require that kind of security. In the most minuscule way, it was a display of respect.
But a gilded cage of comfort and warmth? It meant that your captor believed you to be domesticated. Docile. Too soft and serenely mannered to even bother chaining up.
Of course, that didn’t make the lock on the door any less real. It just made it that much more humiliating.
Villain groaned as the sound of knocking echoed through the room. They pulled their plush duvet closer to themself, sinking deeper into their unbelievably soft mattress.
“Lunch is ready. Get up. And make yourself look presentable, we have visitors.”
They were too tired to tell which of the Heroes was speaking, but it didn’t matter all too much. Their voices all blended together, after a time. All characterized by overwhelming politeness and platitudes, with a subtle undertone of annoyance.
If anything, the way they spoke was worse than if they had just yelled. They hated Villain, that was clear and that was expected. If only they would just say it out loud, instead of letting their tone speak for them.
Again, Villain grumbled, sitting up in bed and blinking blearily a moment. The bright red digital clock on the wall mechanically informed them that it was almost noon.
They just wanted to go back to sleep.
Of course, that wasn’t an option. They’d tried that. Tried hiding under the blankets and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. But it did, even as they hated it.
They pushed the blankets aside and got up, knowing full well that they would return to a bed made with military precision. Wandering over to their wardrobe, they couldn’t help but wish that they’d been informed earlier that they were expecting visitors. But, of course, when did anyone ever tell them anything.
Eventually, they selected a nice suit top in a dark maroon hue, along with matching pants. A presentable outfit, and hopefully fancy enough for whatever guests were being expected. It was almost certainly a news crew, or a government agent-- they came at least three times a week.
Clothes folded over their arm, they shook their head to clear their vision of sleep and made their way to the bathroom.
As always, the mirror was immaculate, stretching the whole length of one wall and going all the way up to the ceiling. Looking at it made them want to smash it to pieces, but they quelled their own anger quickly. It served no purpose.
They didn’t have to look at it. They could have just as easily closed their eyes, changed their clothes and ran out of the room. But they couldn’t. Though they had no clue as to why, some horrible force compelled them to raise their head, and stare directly into the eyes of their reflection.
Villain wanted to cry. Had this been a few months ago, they would have. But they’d long since mastered the art of choking back tears.
The person in the mirror-- they didn’t recognize them.
Sure, they had the same facial structure as Villain, the same eyes, and the same, well, everything. That was except for the layers of makeup covering them, clearing any imperfection and turning it into a glowing highlight. Not to mention their hair-- every two weeks or so, they’d have it professionally styled. What had once been a head of long, curled locks had been cut short and ironed straight. Apparently, that was the style that was currently “in.” Not that they’d had any choice in the matter.
To look presentable.
They washed the makeup from their face as best they could, knowing that whatever artist the visitors had brought with would do it again, in whatever way they liked it. Putting down the washcloth, they moved to unbutton the front of their nightgown...
But their hand drifted instead to their neck.
It was an instinctive motion, almost. A ritual. They unfolded the collar of their nightgown, pulling down the neckline, until the device was fully visible.
That was what the Heroes always called it. A “control device.” As if it was some kind of scientific advancement, some amazing invention.
It was nothing like that.
The device was a simple loop of metal, going around their neck, tight enough nearly to choke them. To remind them that it was always there. On the outside, the metal was smooth, marred not even by any kind of mechanism that would allow it to be removed. On the inside, however, they could feel the tiny studs, pressing against their flesh.
They didn’t think of it as their collar. They tried not to think of it as their collar. They tried not to think about it at all, in fact. But, every second, every breath they took, they could feel it. Even if it weighed less than a pound in actuality, to them, it felt to be made of the heaviest lead.
Weighing them down, ready to strike at any moment. Each and every one of the Heroes had one of the collar’s remotes. A simple press of a button, a simple click, and Villain would be writhing on the floor in agony. Every time one of the Heroes gave them a side-eyed look, they felt their stomach flip, waiting for the shock. For the horrible, horrible pain.
They tried to fit their finger between the device and their neck, though there was little avail. Still, even if it was only slight, they could feel on the tip of their finger their own charred skin.
Anxiety rose in their throat, twisting their stomach in knots. They shook their head. No. They had to get ready, and they were running out of time. The visitors were probably already waiting. In a practiced motion, they undid their nightgown and dressed in their far fancier outfit.
Even as they reached for the door handle, though, they could see their hand shaking.
It was just lunch. They’d been doing it every day for months. They could do it. They could do lunch.
It was just lunch.
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The dining table was a beast of wood and metal accents, stretching for the whole room, leaving only room for the dozen and a half chairs surrounding it.
Generally, the majority of these chairs would be empty. There were only so many Heroes, and generally their various sidekicks and assistants did not eat with them. Today, however, every last seat was filled.
They wore no identification, but Villain already knew who they were. A news crew. Journalists and cameramen and reporters. They hadn’t seen this particular crew before, but that didn’t mean much of anything. So many came through Headquarters that they all seemed to blend together.
As Villain emerged through the large, mahogany doors, every last one of the newspeople turned their heads. A few even appeared frightened. One among them gasped.
It was how they always reacted, the first time. They opened their mouth without speaking-- they had practiced their script so many times that it came to them as easily as breathing.
“Good afternoon, everyone. It’s nice to meet you.”
At the head of the table, Hero nodded in approval. Villain lowered their gaze and retreated to their seat, among the Heroes.
Even after so much time, it was hard to think of them as anything but hands, ready at any moment to press down on their remotes without so much as thinking.
That was the only good thing about having visitors. None of the Heroes would dare to use the collar when company was around. Each and every shirt that Villain owned was specifically chosen to hide the device-- no one else knew. A shared secret of dominance.
“Well, we’re so glad to have you here.” Hero smiled, looking out over the table. “Our food should be out in a moment. What all are you looking to be filming, today? Or photographing? I’m no expert on this type of thing, I must admit.”
It was a blatant lie. Hero knew everything there was to know about PR. They could wield the media better than they could wield their own powers.
“Well.” The person who seemed to be in charge of the news crew spoke up. “Did you receive the clothing shipment a few days ago?”
“We did, yes. I almost forgot, silly old Hero. Forgetful as ever.”
“No worries. We wanted to get some photos of you wearing them-- they were custom made, by an Italian designer. Supposedly the start of some kind of new line. They call it “Be Your Own Hero.” It’s a little cheesy, but that’s fashion for you.”
“I’m sure it is. Is that all, then?”
“Mostly, yes. Though...” They bit their lip. “In light of recent events, we were wondering if, perhaps to supplement another story, we would be able to interview Villain? If you’re okay with it, of course, Villain.”
“Of course.” Villain smiled. “That would be wonderful.”
Hero nodded their agreement, though their eyes betrayed their tentativeness.
“Just Villain? I don’t believe the rest of us are too busy today, we would have plenty of time to speak to you, as well.”
“I don’t want to be impolite, but I’m sure you understand that this matter concerns them specifically. Maybe we could incorporate some quotes from you?”
“Don’t worry, I understand completely. That should work out just fine.”
Villain couldn’t stop themself from nervously twirling the cuff of their shirt. Whatever this ‘event’ was, they had no clue, and they most certainly didn’t want to give an interview about it. They’d been trained to do interviews, but never alone, and most of the time they just gave a few cursory answers while the Heroes took the spotlight.
Still, they couldn’t refuse. If Hero said they were doing the interview, then they were doing it.
They were a prop. They knew that. At the very least, they could be a good one.
A tinny bell chimed as the door to the kitchen opened, and an array of staff brought out a series of plates. Villain feared that they wouldn’t have much of an appetite.
Their collar was choking them. They could hardly breathe.
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It was amazing just how quickly the news crew had turned the front hall into a full-blown studio. Lights and backdrops and all kinds of equipment that Villain didn’t recognize were set up in dazzlingly bright arrays, making any movement a tripping hazard on account of just how many cables snaked about the wood floor.
The makeup station had been set up against one wall, with five chairs and countless boxes of powders and creams. Villain gripped the arms of their chair, doing their very best not to flinch or sneeze as a stranger dabbed blush onto their cheeks. Even after so much time, it was one thing they could never quite get used to. A stranger touching their face, moving their head about. They hated it.
But they did not protest. They sat as best as they could, muttering desperate apologies any time they lost control and jerked their head away from the invading touch.
Next to them, they could hear as the Heroes, one by one, were finished as got up from their seats. Chatting with different news people, laughing at their stupid jokes. Metal wheels whirred as clothes racks were pushed about.
“There you go.” The makeup artist smiled, speaking in a disgustingly chipper tone. Villain fluttered their eyelids open, at least glad that it was over.
Still talking with the different photographers and the like, the Heroes began drifting away, towards where all the lights and cameras were set up. Villain could already feel themself growing anxious. Sure, they hated the Heroes as much as anything, but at least when they were nearby, they could ensure that Villain was acting right. Feed them their lines. Keep up the facade.
Unsure of just where to go, they waited in the makeup chair. They fought to keep their gaze away from the door, the massive swinging wooden panels that led right out onto the street. To freedom.
Their kept their eyes fixed firmly on their shoes.
They weren’t sure exactly how long they stayed like that. Staring. Listening. The cameras on the other side of the room had already begun to flash.
At some point, after at least 15 minutes of sitting and waiting, obedient and docile, someone came up to them. A simply-dressed reporter, sweater vest and all.
At the very least, they didn’t have that stupid smile on their face. The media smile. The smile of glowing PR.
“Hello.” They were nervous, it was clear. More than just a little nervous, for that matter. “Um- You’re Villain, right?”
They looked up.
“Yep, that’s me!”
It made them feel sick.
“O-Oh. Okay. Um, my name is Journalist. It’s nice to meet you...?”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Journalist!”
“Are you ready for the interview?”
“Sure am.”
“Okay. Uh- Oh, wait.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Your shirt is inside out, I think.”
Villain felt their heart jump to their throat. It was an honest, simple mistake. They hadn’t even noticed. Yet, if the Heroes were here, it was certain that there would be retribution. Would they find out? Were they listening, right now? Ready to shove Villain into some back room to push their stupid buttons? Footsteps- oh god, was that them? Oh god oh god oh god-
“Hey, uh, can you hear me?”
“Sorry. I think I spaced out a little, there.”
“It’s fine. It’s no big deal. There’s a bathroom over there, so we can just fix your shirt quick and get onto the interview.”
“Sounds good.” They shook their head, shaking themself back to wakefulness. Once they were sure that they could, they stood to their feet. “I’ll only be a moment.”
“Um... They told us not to leave you alone.”
“What?” It came out more like a whisper.
“Yeah. It’s okay, um, I won’t look or anything. It’s just a security thing, I think.”
“Oh. Okay.” Villain swallowed.
Their heartbeat firmly moved to their throat, now. They hoped the shaking in their legs could not be seen as they and Journalist moved to the small bathroom, right off the side of the hall.
Villain stood in the corner, with Journalist sitting on a chair that was sitting in the corner opposite.
It was just a simple fix. It was fine. Everything was fine, it was okay.
Hands trembling as though an earthquake raged below their feet, they reached for the hem of their shirt, pulling it up and the sleeves off their arms, slipping it off over their head and working to flip it.
It was only the feeling of being watched that led them to look up at the young journalist, sitting in the corner. Eyes fixed on them.
More specifically, on their neck.
“Um... What is that? Villain, are you okay?”
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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!
There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.
To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!
I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon.
The choices and questions for this part are as follows:
A) Tell the truth - How much should Villain tell Journalist?
B) Lie - How should Villain explain away the collar?
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^
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heliotropehotch · 4 years
Text
Wasteland, Baby - Hotch x fem!Reader
A/N: This is my first criminal minds fic I’m putting out! Im not really sure what this is but I was in need of more hotch fics i’m not gonna lie. tagging @writefasttalkevenfaster​ cause she let me ask her for ideas - also happy birthday Sabina!! This fic is kinda based on a mixture of wasteland, baby by hozier and separate ways by journey. Italics are flashbacks
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Warnings: mentions of passed abusive relationship, kidnapping, torture, chained up, arguments, pining, cussing, mentions of sex
Words: 4134
Genre: Angst with fluffy ending
The bullpen of the BAU was quiet but bustling with the soft shuffling of papers and dull thuds of various coffee mugs meeting the hardwood desks. Aaron Hotchner slowly shuffled up the stairs to his office, sighing with the deeper aches of his body. His door shut behind him softly, feeling the weight of the long week catching up with him as his shoulders dropped. He looked over towards the clock on his desk before he trudged to his chair and sat down. 
Strauss had sent over details of a new team member coming to join the BAU for the indefinite future, but Hotch had yet to look over the information before now. Whoever they were, they were expected to arrive at any minute now. He sighed once again, running a calloused palm over his face, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. A knock echoed through the room. “Come in,” his voice called out. 
“Uh,” Dave began. “The new one’s here. Garcia’s smothering her with questions.” He chuckled. 
Hotch gave a small smile. “Of course she is.” 
He grabbed the file off of his desk as he made his way to the door of his office. I should at least know their name, he thought, opening the manila folder as he stepped out of the door. 
- - New addition to Behavioral Analysis Unit: Y/N Y/L/N - -
His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes shot up to find the face he hadn’t seen in over a decade. In the flesh, there you were, smiling sweetly at Spencer as he prattled off facts about pathogens of hand shaking. Hotch felt the folder slide from his loose grip and land on the floor with scattered papers and the sharp sound of it hitting the floor. 
Your ears caught the sound, causing you to look around just as his eyes had. Hotch was staring at you, his eyebrows still furrowed with what looked like concern, his mouth slightly agape. 
You met his eyes, and gave a nervous and small grin, raising your hand up in a tentative wave. 
“Aaron, I have to go,” you mumbled, stuffing your clothes into a suitcase. “Y/N, what are you talking about?” Hotch’s panicked voice rang out. He reached for your wrist. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on?” You yanked your hand away from his grasp, taking a hesitant step away. 
“When were you going to tell me about Haley?” you asked softly, staring at your hands. His veins run cold. “Y/N-”
“Were you ever going to tell me?” You looked up at him with angry eyes. “Aaron, I know who she is to you. I know she’s all you’ve wanted since highschool. Was I even given a chance?”
“Y/N, I love you,” his shaky voice rang out as he took a step forward. 
“Don’t do that,” you shook your head, taking another step back, tears well past the point of being held back. “Don’t say it back to me now. You love her more. You always will. I just wish you could’ve told me instead of-”
Your voice choked, “Instead of sleeping with her. That would’ve hurt a lot less.”
“Y/N, please don’t go.” His own face wet with tears. She continues packing her things, with more intention. 
“And why shouldn’t I?” 
He stared at her silently, thinking of words, any words that would make you stay. He knew what they were, but his mouth couldn’t get them out. You had stopped to look at him now, heart hurting as the room fell silent. 
“Right,” you sighed, pulling the suitcase to your feet. “Go get her back Aaron, don’t lose her like you did me.” 
The door to his apartment clicked closed behind you. His hands wiped away his stray tears. 
“God, Hotchner. You’re such a fucking idiot,” as he picks up the photo of the both of you and throws it against the wall. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the space. 
Hotch looked down at his now empty hands and moved to pick up the folder before heading down the steps. He tried to shake the initial shock of seeing you again off but his mind couldn’t help but think, this is gonna hurt like a goddamn bitch. 
“Y/N,” his voice sounded more confident than he was. “It’s been a while.”
“It has,” you spoke out, voice somewhat cold and disconnected. “I look forward to working with you.”
Garcia spoke up, eyeing the tension between the two of you. “Well, Hotch, I was about to come get you with a new case. It’s local.”
“Okay, just head to the briefing room. Agent Y/L/N and I will be there in a second.” Garcia mock saluted as the rest of the team headed up the stairs. 
“Y/N-” Hotch began, but you didn’t give him a chance. 
“Sir,” your bitter voice spoke. “Working under your command will not be an issue for me. If it is an issue for you, I understand.”
“Of course, it’s not,” his voice is soft. “I just think we should eventually have a conversation. I haven’t had a chance to look over your file-”
“You haven’t?” you looked at him with fear. “Sir, there are some things you will read, but it will in no way affect the way I work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe we have a briefing.”
Hotch sighed, looking at the file in his hands. His brows scrunched up in confusion, before his natural frown took over his features. Whatever was in there could wait. 
He straightened his back, pushing his shoulders back before quickly walking into the briefing room. “Garcia, what have we got?”
She clicks the remote, herself going a bit rigid at the images on screen. “Starting two weeks ago, six women have gone missing from the DC area. Local police have recovered at least 4 of the bodies in local bodies of water. The victims have large bruises and impressions around their wrists and ankles.”
“Like chains?” You spoke up. “How long between the time the first victim was kidnapped and her estimated time of death?”
“Five days,” Garcia’s sad voice answered. “And it’s been the same with the other bodies. The last victims reported missing were both taken 3 days ago.”
“So we have two days to work with local police before we can expect there to be two more bodies,” Hotch said, sighing at the time limit. “Everyone grab your stuff and we’ll head to the precinct.” 
~~~~
The next day, all of their information gathering, all of their leads, all of their information came to a screeching halt when a woman, with bruises around her ankles and wrists stumbled into the precinct. Her dirt covered clothes and disheveled hair screamed for help as her weak knees fell to the ground. 
Derek ran over to her and kneeled. “Someone get a medic over here!” he shouted. 
Anna Sawyer, 32, a bartender at a local pub had freed herself from chains of the unsub. After walking for hours, she finally got the precinct where she could find someone, anyone to help her. 
“Morgan and Reid are on their way to the hospital to get information about her captor and where she escaped from,” Hotch clicked his cellphone off. 
“What about the other girl? Do we think she’s kept in a separate space?” Prentiss asked. 
“Possibly,” you sighed, making notes on a notepad. “We can’t rule out anything until the boys get answers back.”
“In the meantime,” Hotch huffed out. “Everyone go get some food and meet back in an hour.”
“Y/N,” Emily grabbed your attention. “Wanna go grab a bite with me and JJ? I know a local place with good coffee and sandwiches.” She smiled
“Yeah sure that sounds good!” Grabbing her notepad and cellphone before giving Hotch a brief glance and a curt nod and following them out the door.
Hotch continued to stare, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and thinking back to the unread personnel file he had on his temporary desk. Dave moved into his line of sight, with a knowing smirk gracing his face. 
“So you gonna tell me what that’s about?” Aaron huffed, moving towards the desk. 
“I knew her in college,” he said, short and sweet. Dave rolled his eyes. 
“And just how well did you know her in college?”
“We were together,” he sighed, gaining a shocked looked on Rossi’s face. “For about a year when Haley and I were on a break.”
“Aaron,” he called for eye contact. “You left her for Haley didn’t you?”
“It’s not like I was given a choice. She found out that I-” he cut himself off, clearing his throat as guilt flooded his veins. “She found out. And she left.” 
“You didn’t go after her?” 
“I couldn’t, Dave,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It was Haley. Everyone just expected me to marry her and I had to become someone I wasn’t.” He looked at the file on his desk. 
“Y/N wasn’t like anyone else. She was good for me, I loved her with so much, but when I saw Haley after so long, I just fell back into the routine.”
Dave sighed, patting his shoulder. “Haley loved you, but you can love more than one person. It’s been almost 3 years since-”
“I know, Dave,” his fingers pressed into the bridge of his nose. “But I don’t know if I can handle losing her too. Although, it feels like I already have. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe you should start by seeing what she’s been up to for the last decade,” Dave pointed to the file. “And then you should talk to her.” Then he walked to the coffee machine.
Hotch let out a sharp exhale of air, sitting down. He stared at the file a few seconds more, before thumbing the folder open. 
~~~~
At the cafe with Emily and JJ, you felt yourself relaxing into the friendships that were to come. You laughed at a joke Emily made about some of the more intense cops you were working with. 
“Thank you guys,” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee. “You’ve been so nice to me.”
“Of course, Y/N,” JJ smiled. “You’re a part of this team now.”
“Exactly,” Emily agreed. “I do have a question though.”
“Working with a bunch of profilers, I should’ve expected that,” you chuckled. “What do you wanna know?”
JJ and Emily shared a look. “How do you know Hotch?”
You cleared your throat. “We, uh, kinda dated in college,” you admitted with a scrunch of your face. 
“Really? I thought he was only with Haley,” JJ commented, softly with bitter and sad tones. You cringed slightly, knowing of her passing. 
“They were on a break for a while when we were still studying. But we didn’t last longer than maybe a year,” you smiled sadly. “Haley came back and I just didn’t want to compete with his highschool sweetheart. It would’ve been a lost battle.”
Emily smiled sadly. “You still love him don’t you.”
A cold chuckle escaped your mouth. “It’s impossible for me not to. I thought that I’d be fine, ya know working with him. But then he had to go at look at me with those stupid eyes.”
“Aaron!” Your voice laughed out, as his fingers dug into your sides. “Aar- stop!” you giggled out between breaths. Finally his relentless torture stopped, him chuckling at your wild hair and flushed cheeks. 
He leaned down to kiss you, pulling his weight on you and pressing you into the couch. His face cradled your cheeks. He leaned back with a sweet grin, you still pinned underneath him. Your fingers reached up to brush some of his hair out of his face. 
“I love you,” you smiled. His breath hitched, a brief amount of panic flickering in his chocolate eyes. Cradling his face, you continue, “You don’t have to say it back, I know you’re still-”
You sigh, searching his eyes. “I just had to let you know.” 
You try to break eye contact, but his hand brings your eyes back. Without saying a word, he leans down to kiss you again, with more fire, and hands drifting down to your waist to pull you closer to him. 
“You should talk to him,” JJ said, reaching for your hand and interrupting your recollection. “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Haley included.”
“You’re sweet JJ,” patting her hand. “I just don’t know if I can do that again. We’ve both been through so much in the last ten years.” 
A sad silence fell over the small table you had been seated at. “Sorry to be such a downer girls,” you chuckled, trying to alleviate the tension. “I’m gonna get another coffee.”
Standing in line you twiddled with your fingers, thinking about the words JJ had said. Aaron had been through so much, it wasn’t fair to want him again. But if he had been looking at you like that- 
“Excuse me,” a gravelly voice spoke up from behind you. “Don’t turn around.” You felt the barrel of a gun pressed into the slope of your lower back. 
“You’re going to come with me and get in my car,” he huffed into your ear. 
“And if I don’t?” you questioned. 
“Then I’m going to shoot the two women you came in with right here and right now between their pretty little eyes. 
“Okay,” your voice shook. “Just don’t hurt them.”
~~~
Aaron leaned back against the desk chair he was seated at, hands covering his face. The guilt that trembled through his body now had new reasons. He would give anything to not be around these people right now. His skin crawled with remorse.
“Aaron?” Rossi called out in question. “What’s in that file?” 
He quickly stood up and pressed the file to Dave’s chest, storming into the nearest room with a door. Rossi followed him, folder open, closing the door behind him. “He fucking hit her, Dave. Her choked her, he slapped her, he-”
Aaron was shaking now. “Hotch, you can’t blame yourself for this.”
“It was her ex!” he shouted. “The one before me! She went back to him because I couldn’t be who she needed and I couldn’t get past expectations well enough to tell her I loved her.”
“Aaron,” Dave spoke calmly. “This was years ago. He’s locked up, and she is as strong as ever. Have you seen the way she’s worked this case? It’s only been two days and she has the fire of any of us. She’s okay now.”
“If it wasn’t for me,” he breathed out, his hands trembling. “Then she wouldn’t have had to go through it in the first place.”
“There is absolutely nothing we can do about that now, Hotch,” his voice tried to sooth, but was interrupted by a phone call. 
“Yeah Prentiss,” he said. Aaron watched as his back straightened, shoulders tensing. “For how long?”
“Right,” his eyes, full of sorrow, reached Aaron’s. “I’ll tell him. Get back to the precinct as soon as you can.” Then he ended the phone call.
“Dave?” Aaron’s worried voice rang out. “Tell me what Dave?” 
“Aaron,” he sighed, looking down at his hands. “She’s gone, Aaron.” 
Hotch stumbled back, all air leaving his body. “He took Y/N.”
~~~~
“Alright what do we know?” Hotch asked sternly, walking into the conference room with the rest of the team. “How did he take her?”
“We were just talking about-” JJ coughed, interrupting Emily. “Things…. And she said she was going to get another cup of coffee. We didn’t see her for a while, so JJ and I started looking around the cafe when we saw her outside being forced into a dark van. By the time we got outside she was gone. I’m sorry, Hotch-” 
“Reid, what did you get from Anna?” Hotch moved on, voice angry. Worried looks darted across the room. 
“It was a similar case, Anna was talking to her friends about trying to get over a guy who liked someone else, on her break and went to get a round of drinks,” he said. “When about 30 minutes went by and she hadn’t come back, her friends assumed she just went home. They didn’t realize she was missing until the next day. Anna said she remembers him holding a gun to her back and saying he would kill her friends if she didn’t go with him.”
“Wait,” JJ stopped. “I think I know how he’s choosing his victims. We need to contact all of the victim’s friends again and find out what they were talking about the night they went missing.”
She looked at the group with a sad, but nervous look. “They were all talking about men they were in love with but couldn’t have.” Hotch coughed as he choked on air. 
“Did Anna remember anything about where she was kept?” Hotch rushed out, urgency taking over. 
“She remembers that she was underground for the most part,” Morgan answered. “When we tried to get her to remember details, she remembers hearing the sounds of cars going over a bridge over water.” 
Emily called Garcia, putting her on speaker. “Garcia, we need you to cross-reference any receipts from the places the victims were last seen. Run any names you find against property with basements near water bridges. Get back to us when you have something.”
“You got it, my goddess divine,” She ended the call. 
“Hotch-” JJ started, but he was already sauntering out of the room. The team looked at each other. “What are we gonna do if we can’t-”
“Then we just have to figure out how to,” Rossi said. 
In the file room down the hall, Hotch was having trouble breathing. He clutched at his tie, ripping it off his neck. Fuck.
~~~~~
“Pet, I don’t know why you’re fighting me so much,” the man taunted as you struggled against the chain and shackles. 
“Maybe because you fucking kidnapped me,” you huffed. He clicked his tongue. 
“Wouldn’t you much rather be with me than a man who doesn’t love you?” He said, hand wrapping around your throat. “Isn’t this better than nothing?”
“Isn’t this better than nothing?” Lucas, your ex said, handing you an ice pack for the bruise blooming across your face. “At least, I love you. I picked you off the floor of your house after he broke your heart.” He wrapped his hand around your throat, your heart rate pulsing. “You could at least say thank you.” 
“Thank you, Lucas,” your voice shook. 
“You’re welcome, babydoll,” he said smugly. “Now go to our room, I need to get off.”
“Nothing is better than being with you,” you spit into his face. He chuckled darkly, wiping his face.
“Little bitch,” he muttered, before punching you in the stomach. “I’ll make you wish you had nothing.”
He walked over to a table nearby, picking up a long blade. You strained against the wall, trying to get away from him. “Normally, I’d wait a couple of days before starting with you. But your time’s a little short,” he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind scars, my pet. I’ll start small.” He winked. 
The tip of the blade dragged across your chest, stinging with red marks as blood began to surface, before disappearing behind the buttons of your blouse. Your breathing picked up, causing him to chuckle again. “Don’t worry my pet, we’re not there yet.” 
“You motherfucker,” you hissed. “Is that what does it for you? Getting off with girls who would never even look your way?” 
His face became angry. “You women are stuck loving someone who could never love you back,” he hissed. “No one could ever love you back. I’m just here to end your misery.” He smiled wickedly, cutting deeping into your side of your stomach. 
“I get to mark you up with these, with my hands, making the pain stay with you,” he said, tracing your arm with the blade, a long angry line blossoming. “And then when I’m tired of you, I get to watch you die with your last vision being me.” He set down the blade, grabbing a set of brass knuckles. “I’ll make you feel this for weeks, my pet,” he taunted, before landing a hit on your jaw. “Not like you’ll live that long anyways.” 
“The pain I give you will be the only thing you think about until I get to kill you,” his fist landing on your stomach again making it hard to breath. Your vision became spotty and you found it hard to stay awake. 
“Aww poor thing. Too much to handle already?” he teased, holding your lolled head up to look him in the eyes. “Good thing I’m killing you soon, cause nobody’s gonna love you after this.” 
A loud crash came from upstairs. He dropped his grasp on your now sore jaw. “What the fuck,” he said, climbing up the steps. 
“Thomas Wayne! Come out with your hands up!” You heard Hotch’s voice echo from upstairs. You smiled to yourself. 
Aaron aimed the gun right at the head of the unsub, anger and fear vibrated through his body, his skin on fire. Even with the man’s hands in the air, he adjusted his grip, finger tensed to stop himself from shooting him anyways. 
“Aaron,” Rossi grabbed his attention, causing him to turn his head to make eye contact. “Go find her. I’ve got him.”
He quickly dropped his aim and holstered his gun before moving towards the basement door. Thundering of rushed feet resonated through the walls of the dark rooms. “Y/N!” he called out.
“Aaron,” you scratched out, barely audible to his ears. Quickly, he found you, rushing over to get the shackles off your wrists and ankles. You collapsed against his chest, huffing out a sob. His arms held you tightly, trying to avoid any visible wounds. You gasped, pain shooting through your ribs, but that didn’t matter to you right now. You focused on the hands soothing your back.
“Hey, shh,” he cooed. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got you.” His own tears flowing over his face. 
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you choked out. “I thought he was gonna-”
“I’m never gonna desert you, honey,” he pressed his face into your neck. “I’m so sorry. But he’s gone, okay? I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Aaron,” you started, knowing he knew. 
“Hey, it doesn’t matter,” he moved your hair out of your face. “It doesn’t matter cause I’ve got you.” 
~~~~ 
Soon after, you were moved to a hospital to get treated for the cuts and cracked ribs you suffered. Aaron hadn’t left your side the whole time, causing some issues for hospital staff but he really didn’t give to shits. Now as you slept, system full of pain meds, he sat resting his arms next to you, one hand tangled with yours. 
Slowly you woke up, looking around the room before your eyes landed on his. You released your hand from his and rested it on his head, combing through his hair like you used to in college. The sensations startled him into sitting up. 
“You’re awake,” he smiled, grabbing your hand again. 
“You’re still here,” you replied, only kind of surprised. 
“I told you, Y/N,” he said, sitting on your bed. “I’m not leaving you again.”
“Aaron-” you started, squeezing his hand. 
“I love you,” he rushed out, your eyes widening at his confession. ���I always have. I lost you once before because I didn’t know how to say it to someone who needed so much more than I could offer. Reading your file-” his voice choked up. 
“So I’m not leaving again. And I’m not letting you leave again. Cause no matter how long I have you, no matter how long my love for you lasts, I’m gonna make sure I don’t fuck it up like I have before. You’re never going to have to go through anything without me by your side. Letting you walk out that door was my biggest mistake, and I’ve regretted not doing something for 10 years. And I’ll live everyday trying to make sure you never feel that way again.”
You sniffled, letting your heart open for the first time in years. Your knuckles were white from gripping his hand. “Aaron, I love you,” you laughed through your tears. His lips met yours slowly, giving you time and space to be comfortable against your healing injuries. His forehead rested against yours, smiles filled both of your faces. 
And suddenly, the end of the world didn’t seem as scary with him by your side. 
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Text
The Date- An Interlude Side Story
Marcus Pike x Reader (gn here, fem in the series, no y/n)
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: none, fluff, cuteness, Marcus being the best boyfriend, for those who haven’t read The Interlude: Johnny is reader’s best friend/roommate and Tom is their ex who was an asshole, otherwise this can stand alone
Notes: Is this self indulgent because I’m from DC and I miss it? Yes. Do I care? No. Lol, enjoy!
Photo taken from the Museum of Natural History website
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~
You stood in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom as you carefully inspected your outfit. Marcus wouldn’t tell you what he had planned for the day, but he just told you to wear something comfortable. Being in the heart of DC, you guessed that meant you were going to do a lot of walking. But, you also wanted to look nice still, so you picked out a nice but comfortable outfit that flattered you well and paired it with your nice sneakers. The sun shone through the window and you could feel the warmth, so you decided to forego a sweater.
“You look fine,” said Johnny, your best friend and now roommate, as he leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom with two cups of coffee in his hands, “Marcus will gag when he sees you.”
With a giggle, you met his gaze in the mirror before you turned to face him and took one of the mugs from him, “Thanks,” you mumbled as you took a sip, “You really think I look ok? Should I wear something a little nicer?” 
“Hun, you look beautiful,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “And Marcus is crazy about you, so I know he’ll agree.”
“I don’t know about ‘crazy about me…’” you dropped your gaze down to the floor.
Johnny cut off your thought with your name, “Listen to me,” he waited for you to look back up before he continued, “You didn’t see the look on his face when we went to get your stuff from Tom’s house. That man will do anything for you,” he watched your eyes dart around as you processed his words, and when you smiled, he added, “And I approve of him.”
You wrapped your free arm around Johnny, careful not to spill the coffee in your hands, “Thank you,” you whispered.
Soon after that, Marcus came by to pick you up. He was dressed casually, in nice jeans and a grey shirt, but he still looked beautiful. He greeted Johnny before he whisked you away, and of course he opened his car door for you. It was something you weren’t used to, but Marcus always insisted. “I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated…. How Tom should have treated you,” he told you when you tried to protest. The gesture almost brought a tear to your eye, and you gave him a soft kiss on his cheek before you stepped into the car. 
“So,” you sighed as you leaned over to watch his face deep in concentration as he drove through the streets of downtown DC, “Where are we going?”
Marcus just glanced over at you and gave you a wink, but said nothing. You sighed dramatically back at him, but decided not to question him further. Instead, you just enjoyed the quiet comfort of his company as the radio played in the background.
Luckily for you, the drive wasn’t long, and you soon noticed that he drove you past the various Smithsonian museums. Marcus pulled into a parking garage not too far from the museums and gave you the biggest, cheekiest grin you had ever seen on him.
“We’re going museum hopping?” you asked breathlessly as you practically bounced in your seat.
“Surprise,” Marcus teased you in a sing-sing voice as he reached out for your hand and gave it a squeeze before he stopped out of the car. 
You were too excited to wait, and you flew out of the car faster than he was. Marcus rolled his eyes playfully at you and took your outstretched hand. He had the whole day planned out: first he led you to the National Museum of the American Indian, since you had said you hadn’t been to that one yet, then the Air and Space, and lastly the Natural History since you mentioned that it was your favorite.
In between stops, Marcus led you through the open spaces and outdoor exhibits, and he paid for lunch when you stopped at one of the nearby food trucks. You couldn’t help it when you dipped your finger into the ice cream you nibbled at and dapped the cream on his nose. He was caught off guard, but immediately burst into laughter, and you giggled at how cute he looked as the ice cream tinted his skin and dripped down his face. After he cleaned himself up, Marcus returned the favor, which only made you both laugh even harder. 
Marcus only picked three museums so that you could spend plenty of time in each, but you definitely spent the most time in the Natural History Museum. Every time you went there, it felt like your first time, and you always walked around in awe of the exhibits there. And while Marcus also enjoyed the history around him, he was more focused on you. The look of wonder on your face as your eyes practically sparkled just made his heart flutter.
Time flew by while you were in the last museum, and you didn’t even realize the sun had set until you walked back to the center where the giant elephant always stood guard. You and Marcus sat down on a bench to rest for aching feet and just watched as people passed by. Well, you watched the crowds, Marcus mostly watched you still.
After you both rested for a few minutes, Marcus said your name to get your attention. When you turned to meet his eyes, he almost melted at the way you looked at him. He swallowed hard before he continued, “There’s something else I want to show you.”
You furrowed your brows but you took his hand and let him lead you towards the back of the museum. The crowds were thinner and the room was darker, and if you were with anyone but Marcus Pike, you would be nervous.
“Marcus…?” you asked in a hushed voice, but you were interrupted when he led you toward a large man in a nice suit.
Marcus reached into his pocket and showed his ID, “I’m Agent Pike, I spoke to the director about a private tour.”
Your eyes went wide as you just stared dumbfounded at Marcus. The look on your face must have amused him, because he just turned to you and winked again before he coaxed you to follow him. It felt like an out of body experience for you, and you were blown away with how sweet and thoughtful your boyfriend was. This was definitely something new for you, considering your previous relationship.
You and Marcus spent the next hour or so on a private tour with the assistant to the museum head and you got to see artefacts that weren’t ready for public view yet. The whole experience just took your breath away, and if it weren’t for Marcus’ hand firmly in yours, you would have thought you were dreaming.
The sun had long set by the time you and Marcus left the museum, but he had one last surprise for you. Still hand-in-hand, he led you down to the harbor and found a nice spot under a large tree to sit and rest and just enjoy the moonlight over the water. You nuzzled yourself against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“Thank you Marcus,” you spoke in a dreamy voice as you tilted your gaze up to meet him, “This was perfect.”
He smiled down at you and leaned in to kiss your lips, “It was perfect… You’re perfect.”
You could have stayed like that forever, and you two did stay wrapped up in each other’s embrace for a good while. But, a growl from your stomach brought you back to reality. You turned to Marcus and you both chuckled.
“How about one last stop?” he offered and you nodded, “I know a spot,” he stood and offered his hand out to help you up.
“Lead the way Marcus,” you said, “I trust you.” 
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nctsworld · 4 years
Text
no filters (just you)
✩ johnny x reader | pining | fluff | photographer au | 1.7k 
→ summary: in which you finally steal a peek at your best friend’s camera gallery and are surprised to find countless photos of you throughout it all.   → warnings: some drinking, few swear words, kissing
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→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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The bustling of the joyous occasion surrounds you. String lights glow under the summer night sky. They encompass the white linen tables topped with delicate flowers and ornaments, alongside all the dressed up people dancing, sitting, laughing, and overall having a great time. 
You’re one of the people sitting at a table, indulging yourself with a glass of champagne in one hand. However, you aren’t alone. Johnny, your best friend, is the photographer for the wedding and was allowed to bring a guest. Not much persuasion was needed when free food and drinks were involved. 
Taking a sip of your drink, you watch your towering friend finish taking a picture of people on the dance floor before he heads straight towards you. His camera sways lightly with his cool walk and when he finally reaches you, he feigns an exhausted sigh and sinks into the chair next to you.
“Man, photography just takes so much out of me,” he shakes his head while loosening his tie. 
“Does it really, though?” you cock an eyebrow, then flash him your signature smile. He reflects your expression, grabs your glass, and takes a sip. Actually, more than a sip, since he finishes all the bubbly without hesitation.
“I thought you don’t drink on the job.” 
Setting the thin vessel down, he shakes his head defensively, “I never said that. I said I don’t get drunk on the job. There’s a difference.” 
You snatch your empty glass back and begin to refill it as Johnny carefully removes the camera strap from his body prior to gently placing the camera on the table. He leaves a hand on it, giving him a sense of security over his prized possession (and because it’s the reason why he’s getting paid tonight). 
Johnny looks back and forth between the floor and the table when he says, “Sorry I couldn’t really be with you tonight.”
In the midst of a sip, you immediately refute his apology. “No, don’t apologize, Johnny. You’re working, and you know I can’t complain.” You gesture towards all the food and drinks. 
“But...” you play with the stem of the glass. “Can I at least see some of the pictures?” 
“No, you cannot,” he quickly answers, shutting you down like he usually does. You pout. 
“You know I couldn’t give two shits if you take pictures of naked girls in your spare time, right?” Sarcasm oozes from your accusation, but anyone walking by and hearing it wouldn’t know otherwise. 
“Oh, my God,” he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head from your lack of shame. You notice his cheeks start to colour, but you’re unsure if that’s from the drink or embarrassment. 
“Firstly, all the pictures of the naked girls I take are on my other camera,” he begins to count on his fingers, responding against your banter. “And secondly, I’m working on a secret photography project. Once I’m done, then you can see it.” 
“You promise?” you hold your pinky out. 
He chuckles. “I promise.” 
His pinky finger curls around yours, then both of you angle your hand a bit upward to have your thumbs touch. After the promise is sealed, the two of you have some fun on the dance floor until midnight rolls around and guests trickle more and more away. Johnny deals with the last bit of his job before he begins to drive you home. 
You relax into the passenger seat, looking at all the things that pass by in the middle of the night. Johnny’s music softly plays in the background and almost lulls you to sleep until he mentions he has to stop for gas. 
“I’m gonna pick up some snacks. Do you want any?”
A few come to mind, so you list them for him to pick up on your behalf. He smiles, jokingly tells you not to go anywhere, and heads into the gas station’s convenience store as he’s done filling his tank. While you watch him make his way towards the store, a lightbulb goes off in your head. Without thinking, your hand reaches in the back seat of his car and grasps onto his camera; you couldn’t help but jump at the chance to rummage through his camera gallery. 
The camera’s screen glares at you in the darkness of the car. It’s a bit painful, but you persist and smile back at all the people enjoying themselves in the wedding photos. 
Whenever you see Johnny’s shots, they never fail to amaze you. He has the ability to capture a moment in its purest essence. If a picture is worth a thousand words, Johnny’s pictures were worth double.
Suddenly, you notice a photo of yourself sitting at the table, glancing off to one side. You think to yourself that Johnny caught you in such a picture-perfect moment, he probably couldn’t help himself. 
You scroll further through the wedding photos, but realization gradually dawns on you when you notice that there are more photos of you than there should be at an event that wasn’t even your own. 
Hastily, you go to the master gallery page to view several photos at once. The camera almost drops from your hands as your fingers fumble with the back button to view photos that date back from weeks and months ago at mutual friends’ gatherings. 
Earlier in the summer for Taeyong’s birthday, you see glimpses of you in various shots. Laughing, smiling, wincing. You didn’t even know you had such facial expressions. 
There’s shots of your back peering at a sunset, looking off the balcony of Taeil’s new apartment from his housewarming.
Before then, there’s shots of you at a dinner party celebrating Mark’s promotion at work. 
Johnny’s taken so many photos of you without you ever knowing. How did you not realize? 
You hold the camera’s screen close to your body for a second, wondering if you’re simply Johnny’s artistic muse for a mere project or if there is something actually more to all this. 
Did Johnny really see you as more than friends? 
Did he view you the way you silently yearn for him, or did he only like you through a camera lens?
Turning your head, you see Johnny strolling out of the store with snacks in his arms. Faster than the speed of light, you ensure the camera roll is back to the last wedding photo taken and almost throw it against the back seat. You seethe, knowing Johnny would kill you if he knew you did that, but you maintain composure. You pull your phone out, playing cool just in time as he opens the door. 
During the rest of the ride, you try your hardest to pretend nothing’s wrong. Even when silent, Johnny’s known you long enough to know something’s off. He doesn’t say anything until he pulls up in front of your place. When he does, the suited figure turns off the engine, but leaves the music playing still. 
“Hey,” he whispers your name in the night air. It’s tender, but worrisome. Not a common thing you hear from him. “You okay?” 
You lie, barely nodding, and glance down with a slight grip on the snacks he bought you. The crinkle of the bags are a loud intrusion to the background music and silent air. 
“I…” You’re searching for what to say, deciding if you should continue to lie or not. 
“I may have went through your camera.” The truth croaks out of you, and you’re shaking your head because on top of your confusion, you’re feeling waves of guilt from intruding your best friend’s privacy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” 
From your peripheral vision, you catch Johnny’s hand grip a little tighter on the steering wheel, then his grip relaxes and he rubs his thumb delicately against it. 
“Can I just say,” he speaks after a few passing moments that feel like eternity, into the tension still present in the air. “I’m not a stalker or creeper, I swear.” 
A beat passes. 
You cut the thick tension with a small laugh. He follows and begins to laugh along with you.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” you sarcastically add and look over at him. 
“Hey, you know I need to cover my grounds. I don’t need my best friend suing my ass.” 
Hearing the term “best friend” lingers and sits with both of you strangely in the air.
“Do you…” you begin to ask the question that may hurt the most, so you elect to ask a less loaded question. “Are you actually doing a photography project using my pictures?” 
He nods with the dim street light shining on him. He’s tired, you can tell, and you feel more guilt for keeping him up any longer than you should. Despite his wariness, Johnny still looks gorgeous, especially with the perfect lighting. Sometimes, he jokes that life is a runway for him, but in this moment, you begin to understand and agree with him. 
“Yeah, it’s a project on something that I consider beautiful,” Johnny glances over to you as the last word rolls off his tongue, and you’re smiling softly at his compliment. “I’m supposed to present it later this week. I was going to figure out a way to break it to you afterwards.” 
Hearing Johnny call you beautiful has your heart fluttering. You just want to jump out of the car, squeal so much that the neighbours would wake up, then you would run into your home and call it a night.
Instead, your body takes control and courage courses through your veins when you reach for the end of his tie. You daintily roll the tip of it between your fingers and let the haunting question free, ready for whatever follows.   
“Do you like me? As more than a friend?” 
You’re suddenly conscious of how hard you’re breathing and your heart flutters become hard knocks against your chest. Johnny’s face is now a few inches away from yours. At this point, you’re unsure if you’re playing with his tie out of nervousness or desiring for something more, or perhaps both. Your eyes attempt to lock with his and you note how he’s breathing just as hard as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Johnny this nervous before. 
“Yeah,” he exhales with a nod. You smell a small hint of the champagne scent against your face from his breath, along with the scent of his faded cologne. Johnny finally manages to match your gaze. “Do you?” 
Without a word, you answer his question by practically yanking his tie closer to you, meeting his lips with yours. 
The night ends with you two kissing breathlessly in the backseat until hues of orange and yellow begin to stain the horizon. 
795 notes · View notes
stxrrywildflower · 4 years
Text
intern
pairing - bau team x teen!reader
summary - you intern for garcia at the bau
warnings - mentions of case
word count - ?
note - takes place during season 7 around 2011
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you knew penelope from the minute you were born.
both of your parents were extremely close, living just a few short blocks away in san francisco. penelope was only 17 when you were born, you instantly becoming her new favorite person. her mom was even named as your godmother.
when penelope’s parents had died, yours had looked after her even though she did go underground as a hacker. despite how much penelope had changed, she was always there to check up on you and your parents.
and then she had gotten caught by the fbi of all people.
you were far to young to even comprehend what was happening. all you could remember was penelope hugging you tightly before she left. the two of you kept in contact by letters ever since that day.
now 17, you were an expert with computers. penelope was your guide, helping you learn to hack everything and anything as well as your way with all technology.
adding on to that, you were incredibly smart, taking all advanced placement courses at school. one of your classes was an internship, you had to find a local company to spend a certain number of hours a week in order to earn credit.
when penelope hears the news, mostly since she had access to your course schedule, she pulled a couple strings.
before you knew it, you were booked to have an internship with the behavioral analysis unit in washington d.c. under penelope garcia. aaron hotchner would be your ‘boss’ as he was the unit chief.
your parents were incredibly supportive, working out the details for you to stay with penelope for the semester and possibly part of the summer.
with multiple bags packed and a plane ticket booked, you were set to leave for washington d.c. in just a few short days.
____
arriving at quantico, you were more than nervous.
a car was arranged to pick you up from the airport, an agent named anderson picked you up to bring you to the bau. from there, you would be able to see penelope, meet with hotch, and get your proper paperwork and badge.
you could tell from the second you stepped in that your presence was out of place. a teenager was rarely in the bau, nonetheless one few people could connect to someone on the team.
“alright this is the floor you will be working on. garcia’s office is down the hall but through those doors over there is what we call the bullpen. that’s where the main teams desks are as well as where they do briefings,” anderson spoke, giving you a mini-tour.
“and the staring?” you asked. “that will stop soon. once they see you with agent hotchner they’ll back off. as much as i want to defend your case, i can’t say i wouldn’t act the same. this is the first teenager working at the fbi ever,” anderson informed you. “oh wow, didn’t know i was making history.”
“yeah you are, and I'm sure-” he was cut off.
“penny!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to hug the tech analyst, your luggage remaining behind you.
anderson smiled to himself, waving towards garcia before heading back to work.
“i’ve missed you so much sweetie,” penelope grinned, matching your enthusiasm. you hugged her for a little longer, overjoyed to see her after months.
morgan was next in the hallway, hugging you once penelope let go. “hey kid, how are you? school okay?” he questioned, ruffling your hair. “everything’s good derek, i’m just stoked to be here,” you grinned.
the rest of the team, to say the least, was extremely confused. there were a ton of questions running through their heads as the scene played out.
“maybe it’s morgan and garcia’s secret love child,” emily snickered, spencer and j.j. laughing too.
“i can take your bags down to my lair and we can bring them to my place after work,” penelope offered. “and i can take you in to meet hotch,” morgan piped in.
you kept your backpack with you, the three of you splitting up. morgan stayed by your side, guiding you into the bullpen.
the two of you couldn’t have been in the main roof for more than a few minutes before who you assumed was hotch was down to greet you.
“welcome y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to finally meet you,” hotch greeted, extending his hand for you to shake. you took it, nodding with a “nice to meet you too sir.”
“please, call me hotch. we can talk up in my office,” with one final smile towards morgan, you were following the into chief up for your meeting.
“so how do you know garcia?” hotch first asked.
“she’s pretty much my godmother, her mom was my official one before she passed. our parents were friends so i’ve known her for most of my life,” you explained, a smile on your face. “she taught me to hack when i was only 10.”
hotch nodded, “and you’re seventeen, correct? have you committed to any colleges?”
you shook your head no. “not yet sir. i’ve been accepted to a few but haven’t made any final decision. pennelope is pushing me to go to school around here though.”
“i’m sure wherever you go will be a good fit. but now, we have to get into some of the more official stuff. how are you managing school with this inteenship?”
“my teachers moved all of my classes online with virtual lessons and work. penelope and i have already worked out a schedule so i can focus on my work here and do schoolwork at night,” you explained.
hotch was obviously satisfied with his answer so he continued, “now with your internship, we don’t expect you to work cases with us right away. it is mostly just learning under garcia. once you feel comfortable enough and get a recommendation, you can move up.”
you nodded along, taking in the information about your job. “i can take you down to get your badge and then you can meet the team,” hotch offered. “sounds perfect.”
photos and paperwork didn’t take more than twenty minutes. you were back up, a crisp new badge clipped on your jacket, soon enough.
“my team,” hotch called. “conference room.”
with his usual ‘unit chief’ tone, no one bother to argue with him. adding on to your interaction with three out of seven members, changes were obviously happening.
you were seated on top of one of the file cabinets, morgan beside you and penelope next to him. your conversation died down once more people entered the room.
both you and morgan quickly got down, wanting to look at least a little bit professional.
“everyone, i would like you to meet our newest team member, y/n y/l/n. she’ll be interning under penelope and helping out on cases,” hotch inteoduced.
you waved to everyone, a slight smile forming on your face. “from left to right is reid, prentiss, rossi, and j.j. and your already know garcia and morgan,” hotch pointed out each individual member.
“wait i’m not following. you know morgan and garcia?” rossi asked.
“my parents knew penelope’s for a long time. i grew up with penelope pretty much as an older sister. and i know morgan since he’s visited home a few times,” you explained.
the team was already eager to get to know you, having a fresh face around, nonetheless one that was only 17, would definitely be nice. so, for your first day, you were pestered with questions. you already fit well with the team, a new member being added to their little family without problem.
____
your first week was pretty much just learning the basics of how the computers in garcia’s lair actually operated. you had your own little station in one of the corners, a few computers and monitors set up for you to work with.
two weeks in, you had your first real assignment.
it wasn’t by choice, you were supposed to start working with the gory stuff in two weeks, or a month of working there.
you absolutely loved the job with the team. oftentimes, you found yourself hanging out with either emily or j.j. for dinner and time with sergio and or henry. you went on morning runs with morgan, the two of you constantly sending each other new routes to run on. spencer helped you with your homework, planning a schedule for the idea work time like it was no issue. if you ever had a problem with school, he would always help you figure it out.
rossi found a new sense of joy in teaching you to cook. you grew up in san francisco, eating a lot of sea food and not much else. rossi changed that, making you various pasta dishes to try as well as the recipient. and hotch, hotch became an overall mentor and pretty much another dad to you. while spencer helped you with work, hotch would keep you in line with everything.
the latest case was pretty intensive on you and penelope. you did as much work as you could, you still weren’t officially clear to handle crime scene information just yet.
the one time penelope was out of her office getting coffee for the two of you, her office phone had started ringing. you quickly pushed away from your desk, your chair rolling across the floor until you were in front of hers.
“office of the most talented and magical members of the bau here. how may i help you?” you greeted. “man garcia is really rubbing off on you,” you chose to ignore that comment.
“speaking of garcia, where is she?”
you sighed, “getting coffee. what do you need?” hotch was quick to answer, “i need you too look up an unsub. name is roger clark.”
in lightning speed, you clicked away at the computer as you dug up information on the man.
“ah here his is. clark rogers was born to a frank and mary rogers. was a normal child, played sports and graduated with honors. did have a case of aggravated assault in college though he got off free since his dad was a lawyer. oh shoot, his mom died a few weeks ago,” you quickly explained.
something about a possible trigger as barely audible in the background of the call. “we need a location asap,” emily spoke.
“oh i’ve has the location sent from the minute you called,” you leaned back in your chair, most of your work already done.
hotch actually had one of his rare smiles on his face after that. “thanks so much,” he spoke. “stay safe,” you called before hanging up the call.
little did you know, your work was more than helpful. though it was minimal, small details you had provided actually proved to be useful in taking down the unsub. even penelope, who heard news of everything once she returned, was thoroughly impressed. it wasn’t super easy finding out that information as fast as you could.
all you knew is that you were guaranteed a job once you graduated.
☆ ☆ ☆
tags - @tinylumpiaa @sapphicspence @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @change-the-world-someday @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @spencerreidxoxo @marvelxmendes @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @ssa-morgan @matthewgublerswife @spencerslatte @babyangellee @agentshortstacc
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mashiraostail · 3 years
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Hiiii, i was wondering if i could request some vlad king and gang orca taking care of their s/o pets. Like if the reader was out of town and asked them to take care of their dogs👉👈 i feel like vlad is such a good doggy dad that the dogs play together and i feel like gang orca would be lost but doing his best and if he was taking care of a cat i like to think it would love being around him because cats love fish and he would just always have his s/o cat cuddling on his lap. Im sorry for ranting lol i love your work you're doing great💕
awwehehe this is so cute since you mentioned dogs for vlad and cats for kugo that's what i went with! also indulged myself and included kugo/ jiro/shoji content bc that seems like such a GOOD FUNNY AND WHOLESOME trio and i wanted more content than we got smh 
Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: "Hey Sek, I need a huge favor.” You look up from your phone at the taller man who is currently scrunched into the corner of his couch scrutinizing a piece of paper with really terrible handwriting on it.  “Sounds dangerous.” He replies without looking up and you snort dropping to the cushion beside him.  “Only a little, but I think you’re good for it.”  “Alright then, so what’s the favor?” His eyes flick up to you. “I need to go visit a friend out of town.” You sigh, “she had a baby last month, I used to work with her husband and she asked if I wanted to spend some time back home with her for her birthday next week, I should be about five days.” You rest your hands on his knees, “so while I’m out there..would you mind watching Kilo for me? I hate to leave him behind but It’d be a pain to travel so far with him I know he hates trains.”  “That’s a huge favor?” He raises an eyebrow at you, “sure I can watch him. I bet they’ll get along fine.” He glances at his own dog curled up under a chair.  “But only If you can figure out what the hell Monoma tried to write here.”  For all intents and purposes, Kilo was a good dog, a little stupid, but a good dog nonetheless. To be honest, he’s really honored you trust him with the task, you’re the only person he’s met that seems to love your own dog as much as he loves his. Plus it also meant that Kilo had to like him a fair bit which was also a relief, as a dog owner he knew any potential partner was only as compatible with him as they were with his dog, and his dog loved you, he was sure you felt the same way, any partner that Kilo didn’t get along with would be impossible for you to get along with, he found it more than a little reassuring that Kilo seemed to enjoy his company. Past all that, and maybe even most important this was a perfect opportunity to introduce the two dogs. He was sure it was no secret to you but this wasn’t exactly a casual fling, with the way things were going it felt pretty inevitable that he’d ask if you wanted to move in together; but if the two didn’t get along well then..that’d be an issue. Though he was sure if things got tested out now you’d have some time to at least try to get the dogs to be comfortable with each other or hopefully think of some sort of workaround. In his eyes, this was a blessing for him as much as it was a favor to you.  “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping Kilo at your place?” Sekijiro is slightly embarrassed to say how early he arrived at this park, he wanted to tire his own dog out before introducing the pair, he’d advised you to do the same so you were walking to the park, you'd called him on your way.  “Of course I don’t mind babe.” He tosses a ball from his seat on the bench and watches his pudgy bulldog trot over to it, “it’ll be easier this way, right?”  “Yeah that’s true, I just don’t want Kilo wrecking any of your stuff, he always means well but he gets into trouble sometimes-”  “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be a model student by the time you get back.” He hears you laugh into the receiver at that. “I don’t doubt that, I’m almost there, I’ll see you in a few okay?”  “Yeah sure thing, can’t wait.” You huff out another laugh at him before hanging up.  “Sekijiro!” You chirp brightly at the sight of the man, he’s too busy taking you in to respond. Kilo’s trotting a foot or so in front of you on his leash, that old joke about dogs looking reminiscent of their owners was certainly true in your case, you both looked delighted to see him and beyond that, you were practically glowing... Maybe he just had a thing for people who were good with animals.  “Hey Sek?” You lean down in front of him.  “Hey! He welcomes Kilo between his knees, the mixed breed was a bit larger than his dog who was currently bounding back to him with a ball and sufficient slobber hanging from his mouth, the size difference in mind though Kilo was a hell of a lot less bulky, he was practically streamlined, Sekijiro had seen how fast the dog could run with his own eyes. He could see why you took so much pride in the dog, he was definitely beautiful his coat was long, wavy, and shiny and he had big blue eyes and admittedly the cutest pink nose and spotted tongue Sekijiro had ever seen.  “Thanks so much again for doing this I really-” An excited bark pulls your attention downwards, “look who it is!” You sing, crouching down to pet the panting dog, “you sure look tired. Sekijiro is working you too hard.” You frown at him as he hops up to rest his front paws on your thighs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sekijiro laughs, “but he is worn out, I guess Kilo is too though.” Kilo’s head is on his knee, the larger dog is panting too.  They seem to notice each other, and approach with a lazy curiosity. They sniff around each other for a bit but after that return to their respective activities, seemingly unbothered by each other and the proximity of the other dog to their owner. Kilo didn’t mind your cooing at Vlad’s dog who didn’t seem to mind Kilo’s head in his owner's lap. With that little bit of reassurance, you hand him Kilo’s leash and a bag of his stuff; food dish, some toys and treats and the like, and then you part ways after promising to call him when you get to your home town safely.  All in all the coming days are pretty uneventful, Kilo joins them on their daily walks, eats at the same time with no trouble, finds a comfortable place to sleep each night.  “Is Kilo alright?” Your voice is nervous in the receiver.  “He’s better than babe, seriously they’re getting along great.”  “God that’s such a relief.” You sigh, “the pictures you’ve sent are cute..gosh I miss him.” You pout a little. “Gee I miss you too babe.” He mutters it with a playful edge to his voice and you gasp,  “I was going to say I miss you too but forget it!”  “don’t be mean!” He complains back, “I was kidding! And anyway I miss you. How’s it been out there?”  You go off on your usual tangents before ending up back at square one.  “Oh! I called you for a reason actually!” You remember, “I’ll be a little bit late getting back on Sunday, one of the trains is going to be down so I’m taking a later one, I should be back around midnight now would you mind-”  “Of course not babe, I’ll get you from the station so-”  “No no! It’s okay you’ve already done so much that’s not what I was going to ask! I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t mind keeping Kilo around for the extra time...I can get a taxi, seriously don’t wait up for me!”  “Well just come to my place when you get back right?”  “I wouldn’t wanna wake you up-”  “It’s been way too long since I saw you last, so I don’t mind, if you won’t let me pick you up from the station at least come right here.”  “You’re convincing.” You laugh a little, embarrassment heating up your face, “I guess that’s fine with me then...” A distant sounding voice pulls you away from the receiver, “Sek I have to go, I’ll call you again soon though!”  “Don’t worry about anything babe.” He reassures you as you hang up.  There is one minor spat over a rope toy but it’s resolved easily enough and the pair seem to get on swimmingly after that, even sharing a couch cushion and occasionally resting their heads on each other, they become incredibly fast friends, which is probably the biggest relief on the planet to Sekijiro. Watching the two of them play tug of war in his living room or witnessing their schemes to get leftovers off the counter on Thursday night essentially cement his vision of a future with you.  If you were being totally honest it was embarrassing how attractive you found Sekijiro getting along with your dog to be, you’d never got the obsession of handsome guys holding cute babies but seeing some of the photos he’d sent to you over the almost 6 days you were gone made butterflies crop up in your stomach the likes of which you’d only felt when he was actively trying to fluster you...but this seemed totally unintentional. To say you were incredibly eager to go home and see him (jump his bones) felt like an understatement. It’s past midnight when you get back and the place is mostly dark, you see a vaguely bulldog shaped blob partially under a blanket on the couch, but the snoring it emits gives away it’s identity easily. You leave your bag at the door and venture into the apartment, poking your nose into the bedroom.  Of course, Sekijiro is there, dead asleep on his back, and who’s with him but Kilo, his head resting on the blood hero’s chest one of his hands resting on top of it.  “Oh Vlad-” You coo, you practically sing it at him.  “Wha-whatsitwhat-” He rubs his face as he picks his head up, “oh, hey welcome back ‘s good to see you, missed you-”  “You’re so sweet-” You’re already at the side of his bed, leaning down and kissing him.  “What’s-” Sekijiro takes a minute to process everything before he realizes it’s Kilo’s head on his chest making you act like this.  “Oh no way, he’s been a total angel-”  “I’m so glad he likes you so much-” You murmur it between kisses, to his lips and various other spots on his cheeks and jaw, “you guys are adorable together.”  “I’m glad you think so-” He cuts himself off with a yawn and turns into your lips, kissing you again before speaking, “you weren’t kidding about that late train huh? It’s almost 1 AM, you must be exhausted, there’s plenty of room for you in here so come on.” 
Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: “Hey, Kugo...” You approach him from behind and wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning against the back of the chair he’s sat in.  “Yes?” One hand comes up to cover your forearm the other stays dutifully at work.  “You love me, right?” You rest your head against his and he pricks up at the inquisition.  “Of course I do, why would you ask a question like that? Is something wrong?”  The way his hand subtly squeezes your arm isn’t lost on you.  “Hmm..no nothing's wrong.” You lean into him and close your eyes as he sighs good-naturedly. “Then what? Did you just want to hear me say it?” He leans back into you, “I guess I could entertain that...” His thumb swipes a long stroke over the skin of your forearm, “I love you, dear.” He can feel you prickle up at that behind him. “I love you too Kugo.” You squeeze him tighter and he huffs out a quiet laugh. “I’m glad to hear it. Now is that all you needed?” He puts his pen down to bring his other hand up to your arms, “I’m a bit busy. You’re welcome to stay there if you like though I just need to finish some paperwork and make a few phone calls. After that, we can do whatever you like for the night.”  “Well, now that you mention it there was just one more thing. I’ll be fast I promise.” Your hand slides underneath his lapel and into his jacket.  “Don’t worry I can make a bit of time for you then, what’s the matter?” You make eye contact with him through his darkened computer screen.  “My boss invited me to this big conference next week, it’s a pretty great opportunity and I could meet some important people..” You explain, biting your lip, “it could be really good for me to branch out even she thinks so, and getting some more experience will be great, and it’s pretty close to my hometown so I figured I'd stop in and see some old friends after I got done..It’d be about 5 or so days and I’d really like to go.” You sigh and he seems more than a little confused based on his reflection.   “That does sound like a great opportunity for you, you’re right..what’s the problem then? Do you need advice about something?” His confusion doesn’t quell even as you kiss his temple. “I probably will later but for now the problem is Luna.” “Your cat?” Kugo piques, “why is she a problem?”  You sigh, “if I’m not around no one will be there to feed her and make sure she stays out of trouble.”  “Oh is that it? That’s no problem at all dear, I can look after her for you. Is that what you were going to ask me?”  “You don’t mind?” You perk up, “I don’t want to trouble you...and I know I could just as easily leave a key under my mat and have a neighbor do it but I trust you so much more and-”  “It’s no trouble, really.” Kugo laughs a little, "I pass by your apartment all the time on patrols, I’m sure the interns won't mind if I make a stop and head up to check on her every now and again.”  “Oh! You can totally bring them up if they like cats!” He laughs at that too.  “Was that all?”  “Mhm.” You nod and use the motion to nestle into him a bit, “Thank you Kugo.”  ”It’s really my pleasure. Leave it to me, alright?”  All things considered, Kugo’s also pretty honored to be trusted with the task of watching your pet cat, he knows how much you love and worry about her, you dote on her all the time, and if the copious amount of photos you send him of her say anything she’s definitely your pride and joy. For the most part, you spent the bulk of your time with Kugo at his own home, due largely to the fact that he was larger than average and he existed a fair bit more comfortably there, but he paid you visits in your apartment from time to time and had met the cat, she seemed to like him plenty which was a relief as well.  You stop at Kugo’s before you leave and give him a list of things to double-check when he stops in, though you reassure him that there shouldn’t be any problems, Luna was pretty independent and mellow she didn’t like going outside so he didn’t have to worry about her escaping or anything like that. He tries to stop in at least 3 times a day, before, during, and after patrols, he knows that’s probably overkill, you spend all day at work and have never had an issue but he hates the idea of something happening to the feline on his watch. Plus even if he wouldn’t readily admit it he saw this as a perfect time to get on the cat's good side, you said she already loved him but he wasn’t convinced. He knew how much you loved her and any vision of your future that he had always featured the mellow feline so in his mind it was imperative they got on well. On top of that, he was glad you trusted him with something as small and delicate as Luna, she fits pretty comfortably in his hand and was as fragile as she was petit, but you never seemed off-put by the idea of him holding her or petting her, in fact, you encouraged it. The way you even wanted him near her when you weren’t around to supervise put him at ease about his strength and size, he always worried about breaking delicate things, but that wasn’t a worry you seemed to echo.  “Is something going on in that building?”  Shoji looks up at your complex as he pauses by it, “you’re stopping here a lot since yesterday.”  “Huh? Oh. Actually no... well nothing of importance to you. I’m...catsitting.” Jiro holds her breath the hold in the laugh, “Catsitting?”   “Yes...my partner is away at a work conference, the cat in question is theirs.” Kugo nods, “if you like cats you can come up and meet her, she’s actually quite friendly.”   Kugo was pretty used to Luna at this juncture, but whenever other people met her it was easy to see why you were so proud of her, she was quite the stunning cat, a long dark grey and black coat with big green eyes and a swishing tail, her paws were colored as if she was wearing boots.  “Wow...she’s really pretty, I’ve never seen a cat like this.” Jiro was crouched on the ground, stroking her neck.  “I was surprised too.” Kugo confesses, “they found her in a box on the side of the road about a year before we met. She was only a kitten then. Her name’s Luna.”  She seemed to like the pair equally alternating between them, rubbing against their legs and shuffling her head into their palms.  “She is very friendly.” Shoji remarks as she purrs at him, attempting to climb into his lap.  “She’s good at getting into trouble, but she usually means well. You can stay with her for a minute.” He sets off to double-check the usual; food, water, litterbox, the loose window that she’s always wiggling open despite having no desire to climb out of it, he waters a few plants and straightens up anything she knocked over as well. When he returns she's overturned on Shoji’s lap.  “You’re getting along well.” He swipes a pillow she’d knocked over up and replaces it on the couch.  “She’s really sweet!” Jiro is scratching her stomach. “I’m glad to hear it.”   “Hey..sorry if this is too personal or whatever but I didn’t know you were.. dating someone... We didn’t snoop or anything though!” She swears, holding both hands up, the cat looks disgruntled at the loss of attention.  “It’s alright I trust you.” Kugo waves her off, “Luna looks too comfortable anyways, you’ve clearly been petting her this whole time.” He adds with a small chuckle. At the sound of her name, she rolls over and winds around his feet, circling through his ankles and pawing at his pants until he lifts her up.  “To answer you though yes I am seeing someone.” He holds Luna with one hand, his ring and middle finger scratching the patch of grey fur on her chest.  “Are they a hero too?” She wonders, straightening up.  “No...no they’re not, I’m not very public about this sort of thing.”  Shoji contemplates that, “they have a nice apartment.”  “That is true, it’s a good job, and they do have a pretty keen eye for decorating” He agrees, looking around amicably.  “Have you guys been together for a long time?” Jiro blurts out before feeling color float up to her cheeks, “sorry I don’t mean to be rude... I just never pictured you like this I guess I’m curious-”  “It’s okay, most people don’t, and yes, we’ve been together a while now.” Kugo raises a hand to calm her, “but like I said before I’m not very public about things like this which is why you wouldn’t have heard..though either way, even when we do go out together... most people don’t assume I do that sort of thing, and to be frank, we aren’t the most...visually compatible pair..” He says that with a distinct fondness in his voice and then continues, “like you said, you don’t really picture me in this sort of light, most people don’t so hero gossip tabloids tend to leave me alone for the most part, I get a fair bit of freedom when it comes to this sort of thing because of that. There are probably plenty of photos of us together out there, though people usually assume they’re my manager or a secretary or just a friend.” Luna is purring loudly in his hand, her body largely slack against his chest. He walks her over to the couch and sets her down, which she warbles angrily at, “to be honest though I prefer it this way. I’m a private person.”  “That makes sense...well, their cat sure likes you.” Shoji points and Kugo chuckles.  “I’m fond of her myself.” Kugo admits, “everything is as it should be here so we can head out again, sorry for the tangent.” He scratches Luna’s neck and sighs, “as for you I’ll be back tonight. So try to behave until then, for my sake alright?”  Jiro tries not to laugh at the sight. “I didn’t think you’d actually bring them up! Did they like her?”  You sound delighted about it over the phone that night.  “I may have knocked a few intimidation points off of myself, but yes they thought she was cute.” He was sitting with her, contemplating staying the night here. He was embarrassed to say it but this was the longest you’d spent apart in a while and despite any appearances, he had gone soft and was starting to miss you, being around your stuff was nice even if he didn’t fit too well in your bed.  “I don’t think you’re very intimidating at all.” You peep back thoughtlessly. “Well, I’d sure hope not.” He chuckles and leans against the couch, “she’s been good too I was,..expecting her to break more.”  Truthfully Kugo wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he never had pets growing up and hero work didn’t give much free time to consider one, it took a day to get comfortable with her, and even now he was watching his every step for her. “I’m glad to hear that!” You laugh, “she’s a pretty great cat isn't she?”  “I have to agree..” Kugo wouldn’t mind having her around all the time, the longer he sat on your couch and contemplated it the more he realized he wouldn't mind having the both of you around all the time. Was this some sort of emotional sign to ask you to stay with him? He’d give that more thought at a later date.  “Kugo are you listening?” “Of course I am.” He was not. You don’t seem perturbed though, chuckling and then sighing fondly, “I’m gonna go shower then call it a night, I miss you two though.”  Kugo looks down at the cat on his lap and he nods, “we miss you too. I’ll be up for a bit longer so call or text me if you need anything.”  “You shouldn’t stay up so late Kugo it’s bad for you-”  “I know, I know, I’ll turn over a new leaf when you get back.”  “Sure you will.” You snort, “I love you Kugo.”  “I love you too, I’ll see you soon.”  You wanted to see Kugo first thing when you got back but you were so exhausted that you can’t help sulking to your own place, things had gone well enough but all the commotion and travel really drained you. You were sure it wasn’t anything spending some time or even a night with Kugo couldn’t fix though. When you shoulder your door open though there’s Kugo, sitting on your couch.  “Kugo, you’re here?” He’s holding some papers in one hand, the other is holding Luna’s back, keeping her against his chest.  “I was just checking in on her but every time I tried to leave she started..making a weird noise.”  “Weird like how?” You chuckle, suddenly feeling much better.  “Sort of like screaming. But cat-like. I sat down and she clawed her way up here, then fell asleep and almost fell off, but I caught her and she hasn’t moved since.”  “And... how long ago was that?”  “What time is it?” “Half-past 6.”  “2 hours ago. I didn’t want to wake her.”  “Kugo.” You laugh and sit beside him, “you’re so sweet.” You wrap both of your arms around one of his and lean into his shoulder, “I missed you so much.”  “I missed you too.” Kugo sets the papers down on the pile by the arm of the couch, “It's sort of embarrassing but I even stayed here a few nights because of it. I can’t remember the last time I went even 2 days without seeing you.” He appreciates the way you seem to melt into him at that.  “That’s not embarrassing it’s sweet, you’re so cute Kugo...” You lean up and kiss him, “such a big softie aren’t you?”  A soft hum is his reply as you pull away, “was she any trouble? Be honest.” “I was worried at first that I’d screw it up somehow but it went fine.” He confesses as he lifts the cat off his chest and she’s sleepy and limp in his big hand, purring contentedly.  “She was acting up the 2nd day but I think she was just confused about not seeing you. Then she got used to me and was alright.”  “That’s cute..” You yawn and clamber onto his lap, “god all that traveling tired me out...you’ve been stuck here for 2 hours but I might have to trap you a little longer to take a catnap of my own. I think Luna’s onto something...” You nestle into his shoulder, grateful to feel his arms come around you.  “Don’t worry about me.” He hums as Luna curls up in the sliver of space between your bodies, “I just want to finish reading over some things. Then I'll bring you both to bed.”  “You’ll stay tonight?” You yawn again and he hums, you can tell he’s smiling even though you can’t see him. “Would you like me to?”  You nod into his shoulder, “yeah, I would...”  “Alright then I will. Now go to sleep, you need it.” 
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