#(( and of course she is chronically AWFUL at talking about her feelings

[royalreef]

@chaosmultiverse​ inquired: “I see” Vera How my character perceives yours - Accepting

              “We are... We are one and the same, I think.

      I think. That is the stubborn thing about this, is it not? We should be. It is only reasonable, right, that we should be? We occupy very similar places in our respective societies, albeit Vera is placed within a lesser position by my people’s understandings of it, but very similar all the same. The others are not the same in the ways that myself and Vera are alike, they do not share these things with either of us, and most of our talks have to exist outside of it for proxy of what these similarities are.

      Myself and Vera both have other forces to answer to. We have people beneath us whom we are expected to command and to wield with skill, lest they suffer and die and we bring ruin to what was given to ourselves and starve us out of our own home by mass of our failure. There are expectations placed upon us, people whom we have to answer to in turn, in order to ensure the system keeps turning another day. We must keep watch over our shoulders, lest someone come to steal from our flocks, lest they poison what we promised to provide, lest they slip a knife into our backs to assume our position for themselves, claiming that they could do it better. We occupy the same orbits, visit with the same people, form deals that grow slowly and make plans that are placed with careful words and actions only as proof of what we can do. We both have to maintain a careful balance of reward and punishment, both for others and for ourselves.

      But that does not... That does not feel right, does it? This is the commonsensical thing to believe, yes, it is only rational to understand myself and Vera as one and the same, and yet it does not fit. It feels wrong to think and to say, and I am none too sure of why.

     Perhaps it is because Vera obtained her position by herself? I certainly did not ask for the title which I hold. None of my family did, none of my fellow royals ever did, and this occupies a degree of understanding among us. It is a responsibility, above all else. We are what keeps the darkness at bay, keep the population alive and happy for another day more, what is required to maintain normalcy. There is always suffering for that. And yes, it hurts, and yes, it is terrible to deal with, but it is our sacred duty above all else. Why else would we be permitted to excess, and why else would we be permitted to rule, if not tempered by the rationale of what it means to possess what we do?

      I cannot imagine ever asking for this. I cannot imagine ever trying to attain this. For a future, perhaps, for the continuation of the family line, certainly, but for the self? It is unthinkable. Alien, even. How could anyone ever progress this far, without being born into it? You have to be tempered and properly trained to possess power like this, lest you wield it with the inexperience of a child. You have to have some right to it, something which sets you apart from the rest, some proof that you can handle all that it requires of you. Not just anyone is suited to it. Even moreso that, even if a single individual was suited to it, without proper grooming, it will only be them, and their family shall fall into ruin after them.

      Who even would want that? Why would you want to be given a leash and collar to be lead around by? Why would anyone ever wish to accept the chain of responsibility? Even moreso, whoever would like what we do on its own, not as an unavoidable evil to prevent worse outcomes, not as something that you must remind yourself is earned, and that they have relinquished right to their personhood when they endangered others? All that I do is because the throne demands it, because it is necessary to its day-to-day functioning, that the world would be better off for it, that I myself am better off for it? Our other friends are afforded love by the handful, afforded to be whatever they please, do whatever they please, and not once worry about how they are seen. Why would you exchange that for this?

       It is... a stubborn thought, is it not? Why would anyone ever do this, if not bound to it by destiny? Why swear yourself to it?

      Perhaps it is like that one thing that landfolk keep bringing up, as the difference between ‘old money’ and ‘new money’? I cannot help but feel as though, even when myself and Vera are so similar, there is something... wrong. A miscalculation, perhaps, or a subtly different set of priorities.

      Either way, I truly do not wish to discuss with Vera the differences between my authority and her authority. The mere thought of bringing it up makes me... It gives me the same feelings as discussing them as those in the same position as myself, I suppose. I do not really trust it. I cannot guarantee that these things will not come back around, to be used against myself.

                                                                                    Better just to keep quiet.”

[bossuary]

Neve is painless. Rook is real.

Lucanis likes Neve because she represents what he is desperate to regain. He wants to feel normal, to work and cook and focus on the things he used to enjoy (such as they were) before the Ossuary. He wants capital R Romance, right out of a book.

Most importantly, he wants to get rid of Spite. He wants to pretend that he is the man he was...not this abomination.

Without truly knowing her, Lucanis believes Neve is a pathway to all of that. He's attracted to her, and she to him. Their flirting has an edge, but it's also friendly. She dislikes Spite, and her presence makes Spite disappear.

Neve will tell Lucanis that he's still himself, and that Spite doesn't change that. She will never be the one to reconcile Lucanis with Spite, to get them to accept each other. So, yeah, he gravitates to the charming, flirty, warm person who (through no fault of her own, really) feeds his desire to pretend he's not an abomination.

Even early on, I think he's smart enough to know that accepting Spite is his only option, but he...just... can't. With what tools? Nothing in his life has prepared him to deal with this. Rook does that. When denial tears Lucanis apart, Rook puts him back together with acceptance. Rook accepts the reality of Spite, and deals with it head-on every time.

Neve will remind Lucanis that she's not going anywhere. She'll tell him to open his eyes and look at facts, but she (probably) won't be the one to push him out of his own prison. Lucanis knows this, so Spite knows this, and therefore Spite will not look to Neve for help.

It's important for Lucanis to accept that Spite has changed him. But when it's Rook who says it--for whom Lucanis has developed real feelings, not idealized ones--well, it destroys the fantasy Lucanis clings to so vehemently, the one where he isn't this.

For me, the Lucanis/Rook romance feels the way it does NOT because the writers "preferred" that Lucanis and Neve get together, but because Neve is simply easier for Lucanis to accept. She's easier to talk to, unchallenging. Easy isn't bad! Comfort isn't bad! God knows they both deserve some comfort.

Loving Rook is a profoundly complex choice. There's not a lot of cute ways to work that profundity into sexy banter. It makes sense, then, that Lucanis doesn't have as much dialogue for a romanced Rook as he does with Neve. What he can do is cook, make small gestures. He can, heartbreakingly, tell Rook, over and over, that he doesn't have the words to express how he feels. That's such an awful state, knowing that the person you care about needs to hear words you simply cannot locate. As soon as he does have the words, he shares them.

Rook is real. And real is not easy.

To Lucanis, Rook represents a difficult path to recovery, a path he has to keep choosing to follow, every day. At a time in his life where he is incapable of seeing Spite (and his own PTSD ) as anything but a 'distraction' to shove aside, Rook shows genuine interest in helping Lucanis heal. Rook takes consistent action toward that goal, particularly when it's clear that Lucanis doesn't know how.

Lucanis also has to believe that he's worth the effort, his own and his love's. Neve is great, love her, but I don't see this struggling cynic, this chronic worrier, being very helpful in the self-worth department. No, people in a relationship do not have to perform therapeutic roles. But, partners do have to respect each others' boundaries and needs.

Of course Lucanis goes all-in for Neve, romantically, even while he and Rook are dancing around each other. Accepting how much he loves and cares for Rook means looking at himself the way Rook does. That is so much harder than whatever will happen with Neve.

The fact that Lucanis isn't afraid to pursue Neve, even if Treviso is blighted, tells me that Neve is an indulgence for him. Again, that's not a value judgement. If they treat each other with respect, then the merits of the relationship don't have to fall on whether Lucanis 'heals' as a result. Sometimes not hurting all the time is enough.

BUT. Contrast the ease he feels with Neve with his feelings about Rook:

"When I was afraid to want you..."

That is a powerful admission.

What was he afraid of? The annihilation of neglect, worthlessness, and shame. The awful but knowable pillars of his existence.

Wanting Rook means that Lucanis wants to dismantle everything he knows in pursuit of something he doesn't. To love Rook is to love and accept himself, exactly as he is.

Then...then...Lucanis finds real comfort.

[reverseexorcist]

❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?

➲ Lute + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far

➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell

➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face

➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)

➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy

➨ "What is this?"

➨ "A hug?"

➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."

➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)

➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up

➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers

➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)

➨ AND THE MUSCLES!

➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles

➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot

➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)

➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend

➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)

➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost

➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness

➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut

➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while

➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles

➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).

➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it

➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her

➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you

➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you

➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment

➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants

➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks

➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with

➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)

➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.

➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest

➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)

(Spoilers for the finale)

➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack

➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious

➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire

➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm

➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her

➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[auroraiiqht]

Little Tenma HCs ✨🍼

Saki first!!! 💫

Saki first regressed when she was in the hospital. It was a very scary time and she felt so awful, how could she not? Saki wasn’t exactly used to the sensation, though, so she freaked herself out so much that she cried :(

Saki eventually learned about age regression, mostly from asking a nurse if that was a symptom of her chronic illness. But nope, she just got a new coping mechanism.

I HC her as immunocompromised and with chronic pain as it’s never specified what her condition is ingame

Her age range tends to be 2-4, young but not a baby. Saki’s regression is largely involuntary, but she’s not afraid to voluntarily regress either.

Saki’s motor skills are the most affected by her regression, making her mobility aids a bit difficult to use sometimes.. but for the most part she does okay. If she’s having too much trouble going somewhere, Saki’s caregiver will usually carry her to where she needs to go. Or gets her wheelchair. Depends on how independent she wants to feel— usually it’s the wheelchair though.

Her favorite nicknames include sunshine, sweetie/sweetheart, and buddy!

Her regression is triggered by stress, her pain flare-ups, and other strong negative feelings. Especially anything medical-related, like catching a cold.

Whenever she has a check-up at the doctor’s, or any visit to the hospital really, it’s an instant slip. Saki’s just so scared of that place now, she’s spent more than enough time in there for one lifetime! She doesn’t want to go back, never ever!!

But Saki can also slip from other things, like a lot of excitement!

She discovered that fact after going to the arcade with Ichika one time. Saki got the plushie she really really wanted on her first try, and then suddenly she felt so tiny…

Honami’s voice is also a pretty reliable way to make her slip. It’s not sudden, really, but a soothing “hey, what’s going on, sweetie?” When she’s halfway between headspaces and Saki’s instantly baby

Saki is a pretty energetic toddler, and one of her favorite activities is just talking to her caregiver(s). She has so many stories to tell and so many cool things that happened today!! Look look! Listen!

Her brother loves being her caregiver whenever she regresses at home, but Leo/need are her usual ones.

Saki has a rather large collection of stuffed animals, and she has a name and personality for each one. She also has a lot of doll clothes that she puts on her stuffies like a little fashion show!! Saki adores it. Favorite playtime activity by far. Easy on her body too! She doesn’t even need to go anywhere.

She loves loves loves angel milk too. It’s just so delicious! Also, any juice (or really any liquid) needs to be in a sippy cup because Saki can and will knock it over somehow.

Tsukasa next!!! ⭐️

He was largely unaware of his regression for a very long time. Tsukasa never fully slipped until he was a young teenager, and until then he just thought the brain fog was a result of tiredness or stress.

Even then, he still didn’t know he regressed until Saki mentioned it one time while he was visiting her hospital room. He was happy she found a way to cope, of course! But then the more he thought about it, the more Saki’s description matched up with his experiences..

The Wonderland SEKAI was formed when Tsukasa was a child, that can’t be a coincidence. The place is almost meant for a regressor.

Tsukasa’s age range tends to be young, younger than his sister, even. 1-3 is his usual placement, but if both siblings are little at the same time he’ll slip a little older to take care of Saki. His regression is entirely involuntary.

Tsukasa’s speech is the most affected by his regression. His words come out as mostly babbles or one to two-word sentences. Also, he bites things. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. Tsukasa needs a pacifier basically all the time because of this, or else he’ll end up eating something he’s not supposed to.

His favorite nicknames are little one, kiddo, and starlight ^^

He’s actually a rather calm little. Mostly. His energy reveals itself if his caregiver decides to play pretend or put on a show with him. If that happens, Tsukasa’s just a little ball of energy! Lookie, can’t you see?! This paper crown is the bestest one! And now to make Mr. Unicorn fight off the bad guys..!

Tsukasa’s childhood was very stressful, for everyone involved. Being home alone a lot isn’t a very fun experience, which leads to one of his biggest regression triggers: silence.

He needs to fill the silence with anything, mostly talking or playing with toys. If it’s naptime or bedtime, Tsukasa will outright refuse to go to sleep until his caregiver is there to soothe him, playing white noise and reading a bedtime story. He just needs to hear their voice.

When regressed he hates being in an empty house. If his caregiver needs to go somewhere, Tsukasa will go along with them! No questions asked.

His sister was obviously the first one to figure out that he regressed to, but the first person Tsukasa actually told was Emu. Maybe not who you’d expect, but he figured she’d be fine with it. And she definitely was..

Maybe a bit too fine with it. Because then Emu ran over and told Nene and Rui. Well, at least now Tsukasa doesn’t have to worry about telling the others himself..!

He doesn’t have a set caregiver, just whoever’s available at the time.

Predictably, one of Tsukasa’s favorite things to do when regressed is to play pretend. It’s so much more fun with someone else to play along, isn’t it?!

He also really likes finger painting. Someone just needs to watch him while he does though, otherwise he might end up eating it.

Tsukasa’s honestly just happy doing anything as long as it’s with his caregiver

Dividers: taken from here

[ SFW INTERACTION ONLY! If it's not something you would show to a kid, don't. NSFW strictly prohibited. ]

[dwreader]

Anne rice based lestat on her husband. I'm sorry but she always had louis stuck on that man even in the first book already its not like she changed her mind later on. Lestat was the looming husband figure. It's just so sad to see yall turn on the writers when the thing is yall have been chronically online + nursing resentment toward lestat&his fanbase and are now mad he doesn't get his comeuppance by louis having a much more passionate relationship w/ armand.

anon pls tell me when i have ever said loumand would ever take precedence over loustat on this show alsjsjajkas lmao like the ppl behind the show have announced multiple times that it’s about loustat and like primarily lestat i would argue based on rolin’s comments. literally the ONLY part of the book that i had any expectation wouldn’t be completely turned into a lestat extravaganza is the loumand courtship in paris where there is no indication that his ghost/memory stands in the way of louis accepting armand’s advances. he may feel guilt and worry over the consequences of what they did but if anything the fact that lestat was such an awful husband/mentor is what drives louis to be MORE receptive of armand and hopeful for their relationship. it makes him easier prey for armand because he wasn’t given any proper mentorship from lestat so unless you wanna enter into “louis just lied about everything” territory TO ME that’s an aspect of their relationship that should be preserved in order to have any impact (and i don’t see why louis would be lying when he’s very honest about lestat haunting him in the prior segment).

and not only is this louis’s only other substantial romantic relationship outside of lestat but this is also the last part of the entire series in which there’s any substantial writing of louis AT ALL… to dramatically increase the presence of lestat when the rest of the book series is already 99% his story just rubs me the wrong way. like we’re always talking about how this show is possibly going to work around the fact that anne never wrote about louis again after this but not even allowing what little independent story he does have in the books to be told w/o shoehorning lestat is again why this question keeps coming up.

yes lestat was always based on her husband but she wrote iwtv when she had a much more pessimistic view of their marriage and it wasnt necessarily a given that loustat were meant to be together in the long term (she literally tried to get rid of louis a million times in the subsequent books anyways) so this idea that they were always meant to be OTP4ever is just silly. the ending of iwtv works bc neither armand nor lestat could bring any passion back to him. it’s not a romance novel and even in the end, while he feels sad seeing lestat in such a rotten state and when armand leaves, he is too hollowed out to do anything about it and doesn’t stay with either of them. of course the entire series isn’t going to take that view but this season is not the entire series it’s just one part of the book that IMO is incredibly effective as it’s written without the overarching loustat otp narrative in its way.

also that woman tried to find a louis replacement in every single book she wrote and only gave up when her fans hated it and complained enough i guess. but even disregarding all her bad writing, everyone involved in the show has talked about how it was a challenge to account for the massive retcon she did after tvl. these are all choices that were made on what to prioritize and to deal with the fact that the books aren’t consistent about the characterizations or relationships. and they’re going to have to make even more decisions going forward when louis completely ghosts off the page in anne’s writing and all im saying is what im seeing so far makes me wary of those future decisions they’ll have to make s3 and beyond. (not even getting into the fact they’re shoving dm/lesmand/nickistat/etc into this season too like that’s just compounding the same issue)

[sleekervae]

So Good [0.6]

Masterlist

pairing: KNJ x rockstar!oc

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry I've been away for a while. School is bogging me down and life had been wild, in both good and bad ways. I want to continue writing and despite my chronic writers' block, I ain't giving up too easily. Thank you all for your patience and trust that I will be updating more stories as I go!

word count: 2016

Purple text is Korean

Kimberly jumped when her phone suddenly rang beside her, disturbing the small nap she was trying to squeeze in her bunk. She grumbled as she turned over in the small enclosure, feeling around in the sheet while being rocked over and over in the tour bus.

"Kimberly! Your phone's ringing!" Maria suddenly shouted.

Kimberly rolled her eyes, "Gee! Thanks Maria!" finally she was able to fish it out, her heart leapt when Namjoon's name flashed across her screen. It would've been close to midnight in Seoul, and he hardly ever called her this late.

Pulling her bunk curtain tighter to its hook, she answered the call, "Hello?"

A voice cleared from the other end, unfamiliar to her, "H-Hey, Kimberly! How are you?" the voice was slurred, too light to be Namjoon but the twinge of his accent was slightly eerie.

"Um... who is this?" she asked, a pit of anxiousness bubbling in her gut. From what Chloe had told her, Korean idols had their contacts guarded mercilessly, and if Namjoon got in trouble for talking to her...

"Eh? It's Namjoon, what're you talking about?" the voice tittered, a faint song playing in the background. She relaxed only a little, her curiosity growing.

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"... what tattoo do I have on my left forearm?" she asked.

The voice paused momentarily, grumbling to himself for a quick answer when she suddenly heard a more familiar exclamation.

" -- Dangsin-eun mwo haeyo? Nae jeonhwagileul jwo!"

The voice on the speaker suddenly changed in pitch, half-laughing-half-crying as he shouted, "Joesonghabnida! Joesonghabnida! Dowajuseyo!" and a scuffle ensued.

Kimberly was partly amused, partly concerned, waiting curiously until she heard Namjoon panting into the speaker, "I saekkiya! -- Kimberly? Kim?"

"H-Hi! Namjoon?"

"Hi," he panted, giving a short sigh, "I am so sorry about that,"

"No, no, that's okay," she chuckled, "Are you okay?"

"I'm good, I'm good. My friend's being an idiot," he replied. Kimberly could still hear laughter in the background, she found his startle quite endearing.

"It's okay, I promise," she replied, "Who was that, anyway?"

"Jackson. He's a friend of mine -- if not more of a shit disturber," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Kimberly!" he called out. Namjoon grumbled back in Korean, a cuss word she figured.

She laughed merrily, "Aw, tell him I say 'hi',"

"And boost his ego even more? Nah," he simpered back, "I hope we didn't disrupt anything,"

"You're all good," she assured him, "We're on our way to Krakow right now so we have an off day,"

"Oh, fantastic. Are you resting up?"

"As much as I can in a moving casket," her attention diverted to a furious hissing from the common area.

"Shit! I need help!" Chloe suddenly shouted, followed by the pattering of socked feet.

"Fucking shit, Chlo! We agreed not to heat up Alfredo sauce in the microwave!" Charlotte scolded.

Namjoon laughed, hearing the commotion from the end of his speaker, "Everything okay over there?" he asked.

Kimberly sighed heavily, shaking her head, "Oh, everything's fine. If I'm quiet enough they may believe I've gone back to sleep and won't bother me," she chuckled quietly.

Maria called from outside the bunk, "You know we can hear you, Kim!" she scolded, "... Hi Namjoon!"

"Hi Namjoon!" Charlotte echoed a moment later.

"Hi RM!" shouted Chloe.

Kimberly tittered, "The girls say 'hi',"

"Tell 'em I say 'hi' back -- what?" his voice drifted off, "Of course she is! Yeogiseo naga!" and there was another short scuffle over the speaker.

"What is going on over there?" Kimberly asked, her curiosity peeking, just imagining what bafoonery was taking place in Seoul.

Namjoon sighed, clearly dejected as muffled sniggers slipped out beside him, "Jackson wants to know if you're pretty. I'm so sorry,"

Kimberly had to press her lips to keep herself from laughing, her cheeks burning with the red smile curling across her face. She choked back a giggle as she answered, "I mean -- I think I am," she shrugged bashfully.

"Then what the hell are you doing with a guy like Namjoon?" Jackson suddenly called, laughing then as Kimberly could imagine the glare Namjoon was throwing his way.

"Ib damul-eo," Namjoon grumbled.

"Dangsin-eun nae sangsaga aniya," Jackson scolded back.

Meanwhile out in the common area, Charlotte and Chloe couldn't help but overhear Kimberly's conversation, all the while Charlotte was mopping up sauce on the counter and Chloe was cleaning sauce off of the floor.

"I think she talks to him more than talks to any of us," Chloe noted.

Charlotte simpered, "They talk maybe once or twice a week, Chloe,"

"Over voice, at least," Chloe replied, "... You think Darius knows that they talk that much?"

"I'm not even gonna go there," Charlotte replied, hoping that Kimberly couldn't hear them, "I told her to be careful from the get,"

Chloe shrugged back, "I'm just saying -- if Luke was away and you found out he was talking to a super famous pop star a few times a week, wouldn't you be worried?"

Charlotte held pause, staring down at the greasy countertop as Chloe's words sent a shiver through her. She knew exactly how she would feel if she was in a similar situation. Nevertheless, she turned back to Chloe, mustering as much confidence as she could.

"As far as I know, Kim's not doing anything wrong -- so I'm not gonna' lambast her for what we think could be happening,"

Chloe knew Charlotte didn't like confrontation, she never had and was extremely uncomfortable if she had to confront one of their friends. But Chloe wasn't stupid either; she was fearful that Kimberly was falling down a hole she nor the girls couldn't dig her out from.

Kimberly meanwhile was none the wiser to her friends' conversation, "What're you guys doing?"

"We're just sitting around, having a couple beers," he replied.

"With the other guys?" she asked.

"Nah, they're out doing their own thing tonight. Believe it or not, we don't always spend all our time together," he chuckled, hoping on the off chance he didn't sound condescending.

"Fair. Spend too much time with someone, some heads are gonna roll," Kimberly replied, then she brought her voice to a whisper, "Hence I'm hiding in my bunk so I don't have to deal with the Alfredo sauce from hell,"

Chloe suddenly hollered out, "I heard that Kimberly! Stop flirting with Namjoon and come help me!"

Kimberly rolled her eyes, pulling back the curtain and sticking her head out of her bunk, "We're not flirting!" she called back.

Charlotte sighed after, crouched down over a messy spill on the floor. A zesty, garlicky smell was beginning to fill the bus, "We just need a mop," she muttered, "Maria! Open the window in the back!"

"Already on it!" and Maria hopped out of her bunk.

Kimberly huffed, though Namjoon chuckled from the other end, "I take it you gotta go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry," she replied.

"Don't be sorry. It's Jackson's fault, anyway," she could hear Jackson snap something back in Korean, much to her amusement.

"It's always a pleasure talking to you, don't be silly," she simpered, "I'll talk to you later, go have fun!"

Namjoon said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, his eyes lingering at his lock screen a moment more. Jackson meanwhile continued to sit and smirk up at his friend, much to Namjoon's annoyance.

"What are you smirking at?" he asked as he sat down, "And how did you know my passcode?"

"Don't be mad because I know your mom's birthday," he replied, "How long have you been talking to Kimberly?"

"A few months. She's nice," Namjoon muttered quickly.

Jackson scoffed, "So was Lim Ju-eun, she seemed very nice in your old posters,"

"Oh, leave me alone," Namjoon elbowed him softly, "She's my friend, nothing more,"

"I believe you," Jackson nodded, "I also believe that if you had the opportunity to date, you would snap her up in a minute,"

"She has a boyfriend, anyway," Namjoon pointed out.

Jackson sighed, "But none of that's not stopping her from rattling around in your brain all the time,"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, deciding to reach for another beer off the table, "Jackson, whatever you're about to say, just leave it alone,"

"I'm not trying to tease you, Joon," he said, his demeanour shifting to a serious undertone, "I'm worried for you,"

"Why are you worried for me?"

"Because you're falling for somebody you clearly can't have, and if that affects your performance --"

"It's not going to affect my performance, or my duties," Namjoon assured, "I told Jin and the others; Kimberly is my friend and any affection I have for her -- or for anyone -- isn't a priority. You would do the same if it was you,"

Jackson shrugged back, his gaze averting off, "I used to think that way..." he muttered.

Namjoon cocked a brow, staring long and hard at Jackson, "Hold on -- did you meet somebody?" he asked curiously.

Jackson nodded slowly, "You can't tell the other guys,"

"I won't," Namjoon assured him.

"Haneul -- or Hannah, I guess. I met her last year, she's a student at Yonsei, and we both went to the same restaurant for lunch," he explained.

"-- Have you spoken to her?" Namjoon asked.

"A couple of times. She's a little mean at first, she absolutely hates k-pop music" he chuckled, "But the more I got to know her, the more I really came to like her. And I think she came to like me, too," the way he spoke was so wistful, words grasping for the moment as though it had just happened. Namjoon had never seen Jackson so sentimental before, he hardly ever discussed his personal life like. They were both a lot alike in that rhetoric.

"So, what happened?" Namjoon asked, feeling the 'but' of his story creeping like a stark chill.

Jackson shrugged listlessly, "I had to let her go. I knew I couldn't have her, and it wasn't fair to make her wait for God knows how long until I could renegotiate my contract," he replied, "She said she understood, but I think I fuelled her hatred of this industry even more. She hasn't replied when I tried to check in with her, I know she probably needs so space to heal but... it sucks,"

Namjoon nodded slowly, "But you still think about her?"

"More than I would like," Jackson admitted, "I had a lapse in judgement; and I know I did the right thing in the long term, but I can't help but feel I wasted her time. I never should've gotten involved with her in the first place," he turned back to Namjoon, "My point is that I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. As much as it paints me to admit, BTS is quickly becoming a global sensation and you can't afford to have your heart broken over someone you know you can't have. Don't get attached, you have to keep your focus,"

"I am focused," Namjoon assured him, "Kimberly is just my friend, and I am gonna make sure we do what we need to do to keep us all on track," he then placed his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving him a small squeeze, "... That doesn't mean I can't feel for your situation,"

Jackson simpered, popping the beer can open and taking a swig, "It's better this way for us. Maybe one day it'll be different, but for now..." he shook his head, "We're stuck with each other,"

Namjoon took his own can and clinked with Jackson's, "I'll cheers to that," and he took a swig. His gaze shifted again to his forearm, remembering the pressure of the pen, the swift and sharp markings when Kimberly scribbled her number on his skin. He wasn't sure why he was so full of hope back then, blinded momentarily for what could have been though he knew fully well he could never have her. Jackson was right, he had to detach himself before she consumed him, or worse he consumed her and broke her heart.

After all, April was right around the corner...

[theloveinc]

Can we know why she went from best friend to fat footed bitch please👀😂

No worries if not, I'm just up late

lol i actually think i called her a fat footed bitch BEFORE we stopped being friends (altho... probs not much before) becauseeeeee... the last year we were friends was rocky for me and her.

BUT, and prepare yourself: it's really LONG and convoluted because TECHNICALLY it was all a misunderstanding (and related to some unaddressed trauma she had), but basically... her and her sister INVITED me and a plus one (who ended up being my friend) to go see a concert with them and carpool to the train station together, where we'd all subway to the venue. This part all goes fine.

BUT, it's on the way home, after we've trained back to her car... when it's like 2 in the morning, that she (ex-best friend) tells us that she's not planning on taking me or my friend home. She's just driving back to her house where she'll leave us to do whatever for our own ride, BECAUSE, she says, "we never asked for her to carpool us back home."

And this is kind of a problem because... since we just assumed she'd give us a ride home, WE HAVE NO BACKUP PLAN, and neither my mom nor my friend's family is picking up the phone, and so essentially, if she doesn't drive us, we're stranded in the middle of the night.

Of course, as my friend argues (even though I know she'd never call one for herself bc she was terrified of men) we could've gotten an uber... but it's both really late at night and, because this was just after highschool and I WAS FRESHLY 18, just an awful idea.

But the thing that makes it even more weird... is like, as we're arguing, her sister (who literally co-owns the car with her) offers to drive instead... and it's only then that she finally agrees to take us home...

Except that, once we're on the road, SHE PURPOSEFULLY misses our exit and just goes to her house anyway??????? (and by this point, i'm crying, not really because i'm upset at the scenario as a whole, though that too, but because i think she's just not acting like a friend AND BEING hypocritical, as well as the girl who i invited is chronically ill and needs to get home for her medication and bathroom and etc. and I just feel so bad)

So we eventually get to her house... where, once arriving, she just fucks off!!!!!!! and leaves us outside!!! And thankfully, her sister (who is actually still my friend, I love her lol) offers to go back and drop us off at home...

But the whole thing just ends up spiraling because... WELL, there's a lot of reasons, lol:

I left a bunch of makeup and a jacket at her house and text her to make sure i can pick it up later... and she yells at me (over text) about always being selfish asking other people to do stuff for me

This starts another fight where I tell her I just want an apology for not driving me home and that i was never expecting her to drop off the makeup LOL

She doesn't apologize and instead texts a mutual friend trying to get her to talk to me too

and i just stop responding to her altogether

And by the time she messages me again, a couple months later (by which we're both in different states having started college), NOT WITH AN APOLOGY, just simply saying she didn't realize the whole thing would take such a toll, I'm still too hurt to talk to her.... and that's basically the end of our friendship.

OH AND THE WHOLE INSTAGRAM REPORTING THING happened bc her sister invited me to christmas dinner soon after that and she immediately uninvited me... and i made another post about her having made me cry, which her new friend sent, as well as all these other screenshots of posts I made, to her.

i also did eventually get her a birthday gift (as an olive branch) when i was finally not angry and hurt.... but she never ended up acknowledging it (which wouldn't have been super weird except... i was literally at her house celebrating with her sister and she never once spoke to me).

-

SO YEAH. You probably weren't expecting so much but... here it is!! took me like 45 minutes to type out and i'm pretty sure it's still not the best description but........... THAT'S HOW I GOT MY HEART BROKEN BY A FAT FOOTED BITCH (she's also a zionist now tho so lmaooo i really dodged a bullet there) !

HOPE THIS WAS A GOOD BEDTIME STORY ILY

[sleepysigh]

Saw a tiktok recently that made me put my phone down for a while bc of how it fucked with me.

This woman posted talking about how you'll feel so much better when you break up with your "crisis" friend.

Your crisis friend, she explained, is the friend you have who constantly needs help but is never in a position to help you. This friend seems to always be going through an awful time, and dealing with their own struggle is always their first priority. They are rarely or never able to be a shoulder to cry on, they flake on plans, they're broke, etc.

She said the reason this friend is in crisis is because they need a crisis in order to have an excuse not to reciprocate the effort their friends put into them. They do it for pity or attention or free food or whatever. That's why they're so awful to be around and draining. If they're frequently in crisis, it's because they're choosing it.

Give up on your crisis friend and cut contact, she said, it'll be the biggest relief of your life.

In the comments were people agreeing with her. "Oh I ended my friendship with my crisis friend of 13 years recently and I am finally able to relax." Message after message saying things like that.

I felt sick to my stomach. My life is more downs than ups, after all. I've had more than one friend act concerned, offer to help me, try to cheer me up, and then when my chronic issues don't go away, they go low or no contact with me.

My mid-20's friend group doesn't invite me around anymore. Most friends end up telling me I'm too much. Now I'm almost 30 with no community.

And the whole time, I've been trying. Of course I've been trying! I've been in and out of therapy, I've been to doctors and I take my medicine. I've changed jobs. I've taken feedback and I apologize when I'm wrong, and yet...

I'm in a cycle of poverty and illness. It doesn't go away. It pushes me into crisis after crisis. It exhausts me. It exhausts the people who empathize with me. For long periods of time I'm not available at all. It pains me.

Is this really just how people will always see me? Someone who refuses to stop having problems? Someone who IS a problem because they keep having problems?

Have I really been trying to connect with people so I don't have to go through everything alone, only to discover that the hardest challenge in their life is knowing me?

I'm not supposed to be bitter. What good would it do to be angry and bitter? What good would it do to feel bad for myself? But how else do I take it? Am I supposed to see something like that and feel anything but nausea?

Every day I feel like I go a little crazier realizing how much of my struggle to make friends is down to stable, healthy people getting a bad vibe because I'm not okay. Every self help google search result starts with "build yourself a support system."

The culture finds the thought of supporting someone like me disgusting. A waste of time and energy. How? God I'm so revolted by it all.

[little-bloodied-angel]

So my birthday is this Friday, and:

-I'm sick as a dog currently, can't see my doctor until tomorrow, and it may be covid, which would mean I'd have to be in isolation.

-In no small part thanks to my mother, I haven't hit my weight gain goal. I feel guilty but also just look awful in general, and I'm weak and in pain

-I look even worse because I've been sick and depressed during the relapse, so I haven't kept my eyebrows up after my last professional appointment, which was really difficult to do at home without equipment anyway and being nearly blind. And the appointment was in July anyway. I also haven't gotten my hair done like I usually do around my birthday. And I couldn't replace my gel nails because my mother keeps putting it off because she's a cheapskate, same as the eyebrows, so now one is broken and the rest are overgrown (I got them done in late August). There's no time to fix any of it even if I could pay for it because there's no way I can get the appointments. Even if I could, I can't call for those appointments until I'm tested negative for covid, and seeing the first point that's going to take a while

-Because dealing with my BDD and ED isn't enough, I got my period and I'll still have it on Friday, so I'm going to be super dysphoric. And only able to wear black clothes in case of stains. And not being able to take a nice bath either (can't use insertion object type sanitary products).

-My uncle/godfather is completely ignoring me

-My father has basically disappeared and hasn't mentioned my birthday once

-My mother is a piece of shit as ever and now she's taken to leaving me completely alone to go to her father's house despite me being actively sick now and not "just" disabled. Which means that I'm coughing my lungs up and with such a high fever I see double, and I still have to at minimum take care of the dog and feed myself. The last time I was walking the dog I got so dizzy because of the fever and general weakness that I almost split my head on the edge of the sidewalk but when I told her about that all she did was yell about me not being careful enough. The only times my birthday has been mentioned in the house at all is whenever I bring it up and she complains that I want everything to be about me and "ridiculously expensive things" like the nails. Btw she's still living off the money she gets both from my dad and from the government for having a disabled child and living in my house without paying rent or mortgage. So even if I was really asking for expensive things, that's my money.

-My only irl best friend dipped on me because she mixed up the dates related to an event that features one of her comics.

-Most of my online friends aren't talking to me either

-Something else that I'm really upset about but that I can't mention in a public post for more than one reason.

There's more stuff going on but these are just the recent developments as of like last month. It's like some force of the universe heard me complain about not wanting to turn 29 and also about how difficult it was going to be to celebrate and decided to make it outright impossible. Most of my birthdays have been pretty sad and lonely, especially lately, but man I suspect this one is going to take the cake. The only one that probably can't be topped is the one where I planned my super special 18th birthday for months and then I died during the party (coded during a seizure) because my chronic illness finally had it with me and suffered a steady decline ever since then.

It's really looking fucking great. Alone, looking horrid, being depressed, no party, no presents and no special food. Of all the things I wanted I am going to have literally zero.

And of course if I ever do make mention of being sad about this my mother becomes even more emotionally abusive than usual.

What's the damn point anymore?

[inqilabi]

I have so many thoughts about this one!

I feel horrible for the victim. But this goes back to one of the points that I have reiterated many times including on this blog. Which is that women cannot have a low level of self-esteem. The low self-esteem disarms you and opens you up to be taken advantage of. I think Kirat was really brought down by the community and culture. Quite possibly because of her age and pressure to marry and settle down. That she ignored so many logical red flags. She was also in an 18 year long on and off relationship before this. That should never happen!! I don't see much accountability from Kirat. I guess because everyone is kind of not really seeing her as a victim or seeing her as stupid. That she is pushing against that and not really talking about what she could have done differently herself. Accountability is important in situations like her because, even though she was a victim, she was at target because of specific aspects about her personality. She needs to learn and grow from this. I do think she is growing. I think she's taken this into a Netflix deal and trying to get her life back on track

I've been told by my family many times that I am heartless and distrusting (of men). And of course this trait has negatives and positives. The negative being that has been quite isolating for me. Now the larger culture is very anti-men and distrusting of men, but when I was coming of age, this wasn't true!

I remember when I was in grad school, nearly a decade ago now, I had learned that my supervisor had left his wife who had cancer and married a much younger woman. And I made a comment to one of my female colleagues that he probably left her because of the cancer. And she question me like "how can you say that. How can you know that". She made me feel like this was such an awful thing. I felt like this was such an obvious fact. But it was not something that was known. Of course now we have plenty of studies that show that men are like 10x more likely to leave a relationship if they're female partner has a chronic disease.

So it was very isolating to feel this. Less so now the current culture. The positive being that it's very protective.

I remember the whole Samira Cortez thing on Tumblr and her being fake identities. And I always felt something was off with her. One time I had even sent her in anonymous message asking for clarification. The stories were just to elaborate. This queer moroccon woman who married a Muslim man who was accepting of her queerness. Who was an orphan. And they adopted all of his siblings. They were always some kind of big boisterous issue popping up.

Anyway not to make this all about myself. But I think a healthy dose of skepticism is very good. Too much skepticism is not likeable in a community and social setting. But some people actually just take people for their word. Such people are very prone to being taken advantage of. I think we all know someone like this in our lives.

Also that cat fisher completely psychotic. I personally think that the cat fisher had a sexuality crisis. I'm quite frankly what Kirat experience should be considered sexual harassment or assault by deception

Recommend listening to Sweet Bobby podcast by Tortoise Media. So interesting!

I know there's a Netflix series on this. I haven't watched that. I was listening to the podcast and quite good entertainment & investigative journalism. Has me hooked.

[the-guilty-writer]

No one asked for this but it's too late now.

disabled/mentally ill/chronically ill child and which BAU parent would be the most accomodating.

(of course all of them would be supportive and do their best but some of them would be naturally more accomodating for certain things. Just trust me.)

Some of these are really specific and others are more general be kind please it was 2 am when I thought of this

Spencer- absolutely the best dad an autistic kid could ask for. He knows the signs before a meltdown and exactly what to do. If you're non verbal he learns sign language to help you, gets you stim toys based on what motor function you find the most soothing, and this man would be the biggest supporter of your special interests (really this needs no explaination. I could go on for hours about this)

JJ- a learning disability. Not only is she mama bear who will fight a teacher that critisized you but her whole job revolved around communicating well. She knows how to adjust and break things down and go slow. She would figure out the best way to accomodate you and follow through every time. You never have to worry about her losing her patience with you, she knows you need breaks, and she doesn't care what grade you get- she's just proud that you tried your hardest and got through it.

Penelope- Depression. Not only is this woman nearly impossible to be sad around, but Garcia understands sadness and grief and darkness. She doesn't like it, but she understands it and how awful it feels. She also understand that sometimes you just have to feel the feelings and not try to fix them right away. She's all sunshine and rainbows, but she knows you have to weather the storm first. She helps you get through it, slow and steady, but once it's time to get up and going she knows how to do that too.

Morgan- Any physical disabilty. This man would find the best house possible and then restore it and fit it with any ramp, handles, resizing, etc. you need. Would totally redo your dining room to be a first floor bedroom if you needed it and outfit it with an accessible shower. He finds a way to modify just about any sport you want to try so you can play. Can and will fight buisnesses over their lack of following of accessible laws.

Emily- Ambulatory wheenchair user/dynamic physical disability. She makes sure you have any mobility aids, modifications to the living space, and will fight people if they don't follow accessible laws. But she also makes you feel badass- she points out that canes and crutches make great weapons (talk shit get hit) and using your wheelchair is a power move she always encourages you to take if you need it. If you need bravery, she'd let you borrow hers. Would cut a death glare to anyone who questioned your validity.

Hotch- emotion and mood disorders. Hotch is so steady when it comes to his mood and emotions and he's great at not taking things personally. So it doesn't matter how high or low you are or if you blow up at him and say things you don't mean because he knows it's not always in your control. You can depend on him to be okay when you aren't and make descision when you don't trust that you're in the right state of mind. He's your rock- always stable and consistent and reliable, even when you can't be.

Rossi- disordered eating. HEAR ME OUT OKAY. A lot of people who restrict have one special dish/snack that has significant and GOOD meaning to it and a lot of times it plays a really big role in recovery and Rossi would make sure you have that whenever you want. If you have more selective tendencies he's sure to get the exact thing you like every time because no child of his is going to eat generic we all know the brand name is better. Rossi believes that a relationship with food should be one of love and he helps foster that in the most sensitive and kind way possible

[loren91]

In my last post about Wilhelm and why his flaws are important for the narrative, I may have come off as a tad bit harsh calling him a bad person. So let me elaborate on that one more. I don’t think he’s a bad person. He’s an interesting character, my favourite character in the show even, which in terms of storytelling, is a much larger compliment than saying ‘he’s so sweet and good’. He’s an incredibly nuanced character and I’d like to talk a bit more about his personality.

Let me really emphasise one thing.

WILHELM IS NOT SHY.

For some reason, it seems to be very common to interpret his character as a shy, nervous little cry baby. Which I don’t agree with.

Usually in filmmaking, the first time you show your protagonist you want to have a scene that displays the character's core essence. To properly introduce them to the audience.

Look at how Wilhelm is introduced to us:

We see him having an anxiety attack, his face is covered in bruises and he’s trying to control his breathing. There are flashbacks of a bar and a random guy harassing him, and of course, the fight. There are paparazzi outside the car that are clearly bothering him. Then he’s arguing with the poor assistant about the script for the statement, raising his voice at her.

What does this tell us about his character? He’s got anxiety issues, he’s not very happy with living in the public eye, he’s quick to anger and he’s rather aggressive. Wilhelm is an angry, angry boy. And he stays angry for most of the first episode. Except for when he’s in close proximity to Simon. (Or when he’s drunk)

The church scene in ep 1, where Simon is singing, that’s the first time we see him smile. Which is a really sweet way to show us his fascination and attraction to Simon from the very start, but not only that, it also offers something that can counteract his anger issues. That’s why we are rooting for Wilmon from the start!

Yes, Wilhelm is nervous around Simon to begin with, but that’s because he has a crush, not because of his personality. Later, as soon as Simon confirms that his feelings are reciprocated, Wilhelm becomes a lot more forward. I mean come on, who was the initiator in the fish scene really? Wilhelm knew exactly what he was doing, kissing Simon’s neck and hugging him from behind. But even in the beginning, who’s the one pursuing who first? Who’s the one chasing after the other at the party? Who’s the one texting first? Who’s the one reaching out their hand first during the movie night? Wilhelm! Those are not the actions of a chronically shy person.

If he ever seems unsure or withdrawn around his peers, especially around August, that’s not because he’s shy or nervous or sad. He’s frustrated. August is so fucking annoying. He dislikes August with a passion from the very beginning but he’s trying so hard not to let it show. Mainly, I think he’s frustrated that he can’t just dump his ass immediately.

The opening to ep 1 is also really smart in another way, it establishes the possible consequences Wilhelm may face for his mistakes. If he doesn’t behave, his mother will make sure he pays for it. When they decide to send him to Hillerska, against his wishes, his mother says “Hillerska will help give you routine and the right type of friends” (although she does say ‘umgänge’, which technically translates closer to ‘company’. So I think she might be more concerned about him being integrated into the correct community rather than making actual friends) We also see Erik tell him that he can trust August. So Wilhelm is expected to like August, and he doesn't dare break his family’s expectations of him, because he’s terrified of the consequences. He can’t speak up against August, even when he’s saying awful stuff or bullies Simon right in front of him. He’s scared of what could happen if his mother found out he’s not ‘making the right the right type of friends’. So he’s trying to conform to the elite culture at Hillerska, at least for show. 

Just a side note about August, the dislike is 100% mutual. Considering how he takes any opportunity to scold and lecture Wilhelm as a sick power move. He also talks shit about him behind his back and belittles him in front of Erik and their peers. August is not really interested in being his friend at any point, he just wants the status and bragging rights of ‘being close to the royal family’. He’s trying to compensate for only being the 2nd cousin. I think Erik generally has a lot more patience with people and takes the stuff August says with a pinch of salt. ‘It’s just August. He’s just like that, it doesn't mean anything’. But Wilhelm certainly doesn’t have the same kind of patience, and when he’s not cooperating the way August would’ve liked him to, August gets more and more agitated, and when Wilhelm spills his secret about being broke, that’s the last straw. They really bring out the worst in each other.

But then when Wilhelm is with Simon (and sometimes with Felice and Erik as well) we get to see his true self. A sweet, goofy, confident yet sensitive kid, who values authenticity and freedom above everything else. And he can tell Simon has the same values, therefore he feels comfortable enough with Simon to just be himself around him. So it’s made very clear to us who the ‘right type of friends’ for Wilhelm actually are. But that’s not what his family or the royal court values. Keeping up the facade is more important to them.

He’s so scared, of his mother and the press. All of these expectations and the weight of a several centuries-old institution resting on his shoulders, is a lot of shit that a 16-year-old kid shouldn’t have to deal with, that’s where his anxieties come from.

I really hope Wilhelm finds a way to be his authentic self in the next season, carrying so much anger and pretending to be fine with all that bullshit must be fucking exhausting.

[recklesslycaffeinated]

Sorry I have one more question (Can't help it, especially after re-reading you're fiction, its so good)! What if Nolan got his way with MC when he insisted to come inside and done his crimes like he done to others? Maybe MC told Sans what had happened in tears, considering to quit her job? How would this go down?

Never apologize for asking questions! You’re very patient in waiting for replies so you can ask all the questions you want. :)

Well, in this awful What If, nothing would not have gone well for anyone.

Reader would be in denial for a very long time. While Sans (and Skull) would know her Soul was in a great deal of distress, he wouldn’t know for sure what had happened.

It would probably take weeks, maybe even months. But she’d need to tell someone and, ironically, she’d come to see Sans as the safest opinion. Particularly if he’d been spending more time than usual easing her into the idea that she can talk to him about anything.

Who else can she tell? None of the staff at the prison - they’re all gossips. Don would be horrified and devastated, then go after Nolan to the fullest extent the law would allow (plus a sneaky kick to the balls if he can get away with it). She doesn’t want that. Red is lethal, killer who takes pride in the fact. He’d already butted heads with Nolan. She doesn’t want to give him any more incentive. She knows he has people on the outside, she’s not completely daft. Just a bit willfully blind, sometimes.

And what would telling Skull do but infuriate him?

The Reader grew up knowing that absorbing the body blows and just forgiving and forgetting is how you keep the peace. But sometimes, that just isn’t enough. She’s feeling it more and more, and eventually, she’s going to break down.

Sans is, let’s be honest, is an emotional manipulator. He’d get it out of her eventually. And unfortunately, I think the tipping point would be initiated by Sans. There’s something compulsive about his nature. He’s slow to get started, being chronically lazy, but once he is moving, he’s a rolling bolder. A fixator.

So, while gently joking, prodding and poking, Sans eventually trips on the trigger. And Reader just breaks down in tears.

Red finds naked emotion like that deeply uncomfortable. Skull gets panicked and baffled, and doesn’t know what to do other than try his rather heavy handed comforting. 

Sans is a lot more emotionally distance when he needs to be, so lets her cry it out until she’s ready to talk. He’s happy to be there however she needs; whether she wants him just to be there, or to stroke her back, or even let her cry into his shoulder.

At different points in the novel, she’d want different things. But by chpt 29 (which I think is the time you’re thinking of?), she’d want more contact. Probably starting with holding his hand, then letting him stroke her shoulder. 

And as awful as it is, Sans can see how the release of that emotion starts the healing in her Soul. All Souls scar, but you can limit the damage by accepting and moving past the pain. That’s what she’s doing.

He can bury his own feelings for now.

When she tells him what happened, again, he can pull back – with effort – and listen. To let her say what she needs to say. Force himself to be abstract, to speak his lines, just like he’d done in the Underground... while inside, he’s seething with anger.

Would she consider quitting her job? Absolutely – whether in this reality Nolan was still at the prison or not, this would be a massively sharp red flag that the prison was not a safe world for her to be in.

This would be the part Sans hates himself for. He’d convince her to stay. He’d know that it was terrible advice. It would be selfish advice, because of course it would be safer for her to go. But Sans just can’t bare the idea of her not being around.

Sans is one of those dual track thinkers. He can listen and speak and be planning ahead while giving everything the same attention. He’s already planning and considering what to do. This initial conversation wouldn’t be the time so suggest anything he’d really want to happen. 

He’d ask her what she wanted to do about it. Nothing? Okay. So long as that’s what you want. So long as you’re safe.

Sans would start working things in the background from that point. A furious, avenging Skeleton when you’re not around (poor Harris would have his hands full for a while) and a calm and supportive friend to Reader.

He’d eventually talk her round to formally going after Nolan. Knowing the Reader, Sans’s best argument would be ‘what if he does this to others?’ rather than ‘because he did this to you.’ He’ll say whatever he has to say – the truth is, Nolan is already dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.

If Sans is lucky, VERY lucky, after Nolan gets arrested, tried and convinced, he’ll end up in New Ebbott Prison. Maybe the Greene/Spratt family would even push for this, thinking Nolan would receive preferential treatment.

Now, all Sans has to do is figure out how to kill Nolan before Red does…

[itsmyartfam]

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future! 

[captainunderkrupp]

touching you is better than looking in your eyes

a new minublaze fic with a headcanon that suddenly just STRUCK me a few nights ago!!! 1.2k words, some suggestive lines, but mostly talk about dealing with disability

"May I... touch you?" 

Minuet smiled at how nervous and polite Blaze was, now that they were alone together. There was no show, no one to impress, it was just them. It helped Minuet to relax as well, as a fellow chronic show off. 

"Yes, of course," she murmured, nodding. Blaze nervously smiled, and gently reached out. 

It was awkward, especially at first. He gasped as he put his hands on her cheeks and began traveling downward. "You're so small..." 

Minuet chuckled, placing one of her own hands on the back of one of his, making him jump and blush. "Heh, yes, quite different feeling the size difference rather than seeing it..." She had a blush of her own, especially as one large purple hand dipped around her thigh and squeezed before looping back upward. It hesitated at her choker for a moment, feeling at the lace and satin, before cupping her other cheek again. He rubbed each cheek with her thumb, surprisingly gentle, even gentler when her face pinched and she made a small sound of discomfort at the feeling of her glitter being rubbed at. He gasped when his fingers found her beauty mark. 

"You've got a mole!" he said, and Minuet would have felt offended if anyone else said that, but he just sounded awed, a bit of a smile on his face. 

She giggled a bit in confusion, though. "Of course I have a mole, it's my beauty mark, one of the most obvious parts of my face...?" She paused. 

Blaze still had his sunglasses on. She reached out, and he just barely flinched when she touched his face in turn. She lifted the glasses, only having to gather up three or four pairs to see his eyes. He was looking directly at her, sure, but... his gaze almost seemed to be looking through her. 

She tilted her body to one side. His hands were still on her face and stayed there, and his gaze followed, with barely a hint of hesitation. She pulled his hands down to her shoulders and tilted to the other side, and he still followed... but didn't quite land on her face. She was dumbfounded, and didn't want to believe her theory, but... she finally held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up, Blaze?" 

Blaze grimaced. "Uh..." He wasn’t looking at her hand. He was still looking at her face. Mostly.

He suddenly grabbed at her hand but she was quicker, moving it away with a gasp of shock. 

"Blaze, are you blind??"

Blaze gulped. "Uhhhhh..." 

Minuet tilted her head again, squinting. He kept vocalizing, but his eyes didn’t seem to quite follow her properly. If she made any noise, they'd land on her very exactly, but only then. And even so, she only knew that because she was one of the few people who regularly saw him without his MANY glasses. Which... she'd tried them on before. They were very dark... the way he layered them, she was practically blind when she tried to imitate that. 

If he was actually blind, he wouldn't care, would he? 

Blaze finally gasped as he ran out of air, and sighed. "Ok. Fine. Yes. I'm blind." 

Minuet frowned, gently putting a small hand on his cheek. He placed his own over hers, practically engulfing it as he leaned into it. "Blaze... why didn't you say anything?" she asked, gently. 

"...pretty much everyone back home knows already... I figured people would notice pretty quickly here. But... then they didn’t. And… even though rock trolls are pretty great about not being bothered by disability, and supporting it... you still get strange reactions, y’know? Even if I can't see a look I can feel it... so it was neat, not having people ask if I needed help down stairs, or telling me when they're ready for a stage dive, or offering too much visual description for something..." 

"...those sound like... good accommodations, but like they would get a tad annoying after a while." 

"Exactly," Blaze breathed emphatically, suddenly gripping her hand and grinning with excitement. Then he gentled, releasing her hand. "I sometimes need those things. But other times, even if people are casual, they make it harder. So I just... end up trying to find control, and..." 

"...seem annoying in the process..." Minuet murmured. 

"Yup." 

Minuet nodded. "...oh gosh, your air guitar must feel extra real because you can feel it and don't have to imagine a visual as well!" 

Blaze chuckled. "Since they're from my imagination, they're the clearest thing I can "see". To be honest, I was shocked and... way too excited when I realized I could "see" your guitar nearly as well as mine."

Minuet smiled gently, and then blinked as she realized... Blaze couldn't see it. "I'm... I'm very glad I was able to connect with you over air guitar then, Blaze." 

He grinned. "I'm still SUPER impressed that you managed to fight your own vision and actually get it. Not many people can, especially adults... Val mostly gets it cuz we grew up together, and she still can't always play the instruments she sees." 

Minuet nodded, making sure Blaze felt it. “I’m glad you had her…”

Blaze snorted. “Pfft, we still act like siblings. We HATE each other even if we’d probably murder a troll for each other if need be.” Then his look softened. “But you’re right, as always… I am grateful for her.” He looked a bit nervous, and then leaned in, gently pressing his forehead to hers. “...and for you…”

Minuet blushed, giggling as she suddenly felt all hot and nervous. Blaze almost felt like a different person in private, so much more polite and kind… 

Her giggling cut short as she realized he may be compensating, trying to fit the stereotype that he had been forced into, of the inattentive asshole who didn’t bother to look where he was going and cared more about his performance than the trolls around him. 

Classical trolls didn’t normally do this, but… she hugged him. 

He gagged, and she was sure she was clinging too tight, but then he adjusted and held her back. His voice sounded strained, somehow, when he spoke. “Thank you, Minnie,” he choked out, and Minuet couldn’t tell if he was holding back laughter or tears. “Thank you.” 

Minuet nodded into his shoulder. “Just let me know if I get too overbearing, Blaze,” she insisted, “or I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Blaze finally laughed, a very wet laugh. She felt him let go of her with one arm and wipe a tear away. “Of course. Gotta be honest to a fault. You know me.” 

Minuet snorted. “Except when you lie to cover your reputation…”

“That was one time, with Rose and Romper…” 

“Twice, with the tattoo… did they know you were blind, by the way?”

“Oh, yeah, totally, I’m sure that’s the only reason they didn’t comment on my hairy sandwich…”

They talked like that for a while into the night, continuing to cuddle and explore each other with his new information in mind… and Minuet with an ever predictable determination to learn exactly how to politely accommodate her boyfriend.

~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! I am planning a rewatch of the show to see if there's any specific place where this headcanon could be DISproved, but for now it's basically an AU :) I think it would be super appropriate considering... well, everything about them. especially minuet's own self esteem issues and blaze's imagination being so powerful he can effect the real world...

EDIT: ao3 posting!!

[masterwords]

happy place

Summary: Derek asks Penelope to pick Hotch up from the hospital. Post-WITSEC soft and sweet.

Warnings: hospital/chronic pain stuff

Words: 3.9k

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Notes: This has been in my WIP folder for months without progress. It's not going anywhere, there is no point, it's all just cute nonsense. Gotta clean out this folder, and if I can't seem to put together new words I'll share old ones that are halfway decent.

**

Penelope didn't even know he was back when Derek called and asked if she'd pick Hotch up from the hospital. “I'm stuck in D.C., I can't leave...just pick him up and take him to your place? I'll owe you one...maybe more...anything you want.”

All she really wanted was to know why she didn't know he was back in town, out of WITSEC. Why no one had bothered to tell her. (Okay, she also really wanted to know why he was in the hospital but she'd probably get THAT answer if she agreed to help.) She'd been watching for his name to pop up the moment his fake identity was retired and Aaron Hotchner was back in use, but Emily had mentioned he was going to reintegrate slowly, give Jack a chance to settle before making any big moves...going back to work, seeing people again, he was just laying low and considering his options. She knew that meant he was already seeing Derek, that didn't bother her at all, but this wasn't exactly how she'd imagined their reunion.

Still, it seemed fitting.

“Have you talked to him?” she'd asked Emily when they all got the news that he and Jack were in the process of being released back into their lives. It had been long enough that she couldn't remember the sound of his voice, the exact color of his eyes, which ties he liked to wear on certain days or for certain occasions. Things she swore she'd never forget she suddenly realized she had. Once she'd asked Derek if he felt the same, he had to right? But he seemed to have this perfectly saved image of Hotch in his mind, he missed him terribly but he never wavered. “His eyes are the color of raw honey,” Derek told her wistfully once, when she'd cried over him being gone. She loved that about Derek, that he could conjure it up so easily.

“Once,” Emily replied, feeling the sudden weight of sitting behind his desk and doing his job in a permanent capacity. He could come back to town, but he wouldn't come back here. She closed the file and handed it to Penelope with a sad smile. “He sounded tired.”

She wasn't surprised that that parlayed into getting a call from Derek at 4:11pm on a Wednesday practically begging her to leave work early. “I don't have time to go into details, it's nothing serious...he's just been there all day and I can't get out of here, I'm in the middle of signing papers at the bank on a house that's been pending forever. If I leave now I'll lose it.” He would come though, he'd leave if she said she couldn't do it and she knows it. But she also knows how long he's been fighting to get this house in his hands...it's his dream house and it's in Chicago. A multitude of reasons why he can't just up and leave that bank, but he won't leave Hotch sitting at the hospital all night either.

She agreed, of course she did. There was no reason not to. Even if she was drowning in a sea of work, it could all wait. She'd forgotten the smell of his shampoo, it was soft and barely fragrant, expensive and she could only smell it when he leaned over her shoulder to peek at her screen. “Make it quick please...I don't think he was ready to...” she stopped there at his sharp intake of breath.

“He wants to see everyone, sweetness. It's just been complicated.” Complicated sounded an awful lot like bad the way he said it. Coupling that word with Emily's admission that he sounded tired, and now the hospital...it made her feel icky. Like she was going to pick him up and he would be a different person, like WITSEC had taken everything that she knew and loved about Hotch and just ruined it all. Then she'd feel even worse not being able to remember all of those silly little things.

She wasn't surprised when she found him sitting on the edge of his bed refusing a wheelchair from a stern nurse who wasn't taking any of his shit. He looked just like himself and she was glad to see it. Maybe a little thinner, a few more lines, and no suit...but it was Hotch. His hair was longer, his sweater was soft, his frown...she remembered that.

“You'll get in if you know what's good for you, Hotchner.” The nurse had her hands firmly planed on her hips, a force of nature in her bright purple scrubs covered in hearts and stars. Penelope smiled in spite of her fear of what she'd find, completely amused at their standoff. She would put her money on the nurse, she looked tough, like she could snap him in half easy. Even in his younger years.

“I don't need it.” His arms, clad in long black cashmere, were folded over his chest in a stance any eight year old would have called a pro move, hands tucked beneath his biceps defiantly. A bright yellow fall risk bracelet peeked out from beneath the cuff and the nurse tapped it...one, two, three with her fingernail. His legs dangled over the edge in his worn old khaki shorts, hospital grippy socks still on his feet. They were pink, a stark contrast to the black sweater he wore over his lithe frame. What Penelope couldn't see was that this particular nurse was actually happy to see him, grouchy and troublesome as he was. She'd missed him around here, but neither of them would admit to that. Instead she held up his tennis shoes with a smirk.

“You want these back, sourpuss? Hop in.” She was indicating the wheelchair that sat next to her, braked and ready for him to take a seat. A wheelchair he had no intention of getting into. Neither of them paid any attention to Penelope as she watched from the doorway.

“Unlike you, I own more than one pair of shoes.”

“Yeah? You got 'em here in some magic pocket I'm unaware of?”

He narrowed his eyes and considered his options. Penelope could see it, he was still willing to argue further. He really didn't want a ride in a wheelchair, he wanted to walk. He settled, though, on a simple plea. “You know I can walk out of here just fine, Norma. I walked in on my own two legs.”

“I know that, sweetheart, but it's hospital policy and you know that.” She had softened considerably and was pleading now for him to just follow the rules. What she really wanted to point out was that he came in hobbling and he was leaving with a pharmacy coursing through his veins, so the wheelchair was really the least of his concerns. It would only take him as far as the car, after that he was on his own.

Penelope thought for sure he'd argue, say something back, but she watched with wide eyes as he caved instead. His features softened and he extended his arm to Norma, let her help him off of the bed. She knew, when he swayed where he stood, that Norma was right, the wheelchair was the best option. He looked like he could walk, unsteady, but a ride was better. The way she carefully maneuvered him into the chair was gentle and Penelope could feel her fondness for him. He had that effect on people. A delightful pain in the ass.

“Um...” she finally said, so softly, when she realized they were about to turn and see her eavesdropping. “Hi. Sir. It's...” she paused, taken aback by the soft way his eyes met hers and it felt like lightning. Gold, his eyes were gold with just the faintest flecks of green and brown, like a late November forest just before the frost. How could she have forgotten that? “It's good to see you. I guess...maybe it could be better...circumstances and all...but...”

“It's good to see you too, Penelope.”

Norma smiled at Penelope before crouching beside the chair, snipping the bracelets from his forearm and checking the IV site to make sure it all looked good. She never bruised him. “Where's that hot tamale of yours? I was really looking forward to seeing him...”

Penelope couldn't help laughing, especially when she saw the flush rising from the collar of Hotch's sweater. His neck was turning beet red.

“So you could both gang up on me? He's in D.C. Signing some papers.”

Norma offered the rundown to Penelope on the way to her car, as if Hotch wasn't even there. In a way he really wasn't, the drugs they'd given him to handle his pain levels made him groggy and he was barely awake. He hated the way they made him feel, sleepy and hungry and sometimes things irritated him that would normally not even be on his radar. Like right now, the way that Penelope's heels were clicking along the floor was making his skin crawl and he bunched his hands into fists in his lap to try and distract himself.

“He's a problem patient,” He heard Norma say, and he knew very well she was explaining to Penelope just how long the two of them had known one another. She'd been on duty the night Foyet brought him in barely breathing, she'd been on the code team. Shocked that old ticker of yours back into rhythm, she'd told him with a wilygrin. You owe me one, now hold still. She was never going to let him live it down, either. She used it against him every time he complained. “Real piece of jerky. You know what I mean? Tough and chewy...”

Penelope giggled helplessly. “Yes. I know.” She had plenty of stories of her own, some of which she shared quickly and without any concern for whether or not he wanted to hear them. If his time in WITSEC had taught him nothing else, it had taught him to find contentment with the people who love you. It's awfully easy to be erased from their lives.

“You said I was a brownie last time.” He sounded a little hurt, and Penelope almost felt bad for him but Norma just patted him right on the shoulder. Casual touch that he didn't shy away from.

“Yeah, sure I did. You were nice last time. All sweet and gooey in the middle. Flashed those big maple syrup eyes at me so I'd run on up to Maternity and get you a box of cranberry juice.”

“I was thirsty,” he almost whispered, it was so quiet. “I don't like apple juice.” Penelope suddenly wanted to know Norma desperately, this woman who held a part of Hotch in her hands that she'd never seen before. And not just for that reason, but she called his eyes maple syrup and Penelope couldn't think of anything that sounded more fantastic or magical, she wasn't likely to forget it...or Norma the nurse with her super fun scrubs and her black hair that looked like a raven's wing under the harsh fluorescent lights.

As they folded Hotch into Penelope's woefully tiny car, she pulled out her phone and sent Norma a quick text. “Now you have my number, too.” She said it with a sparkle in her eye and Norma slipped her phone out of her hip pocket, poked in Penelope's name with a starry-eyed cat emoji beside it and bid them farewell.

It was on the tip of her tongue, wondering why he'd been in the hospital all day. Instead of asking, though, she nudged him away from the couch and toward her bedroom. Her couch was covered in bags and rather than figure out where to put them all, the bed was right there and so much easier. He looked like he would fall asleep sitting up, had almost done so in the car. Derek wanted them to wait for him at her place, said he'd bring dinner and hang out a bit. The three of them hadn't been together like this is too long, really, and she wasn't going to argue with him even if she thought Hotch would probably have preferred to be in his own home. He didn't look sick, he didn't look bad necessarily...no visible reason for him to be in the hospital. Maybe that scared her more. What didn't she see?

The first sign that anything was wrong, aside from his general malaise, was when he took a little longer to ease himself down onto her bed. He listed to the side, catching himself first with the left hand and then squared up, holding his breath until all movement had ceased. Scooting backward with slow hips, he almost seemed to drag his legs up onto the bed. She helped him where she could, lifted his ankles and took off his shoes, helped him position himself. “Sir...?”

“It's nothing, Penelope. Really.” He meant it, too. It was nothing because it wasn't new. Nothing worth talking about, nothing she could do for it if she did know. The look she gave him when she sat down beside him on the other side of the bed was strange, like she was realizing now that he wasn't her boss any longer and she didn't have to tip toe around quite so delicately. Something about his private nature still held her off, at least a little, but not like it had when he held her job in his hands. He thought he detected something simmering behind her sparkly red glasses that felt like danger, like some long overdue honesty.

“Sir, with all due respect...”

“Aaron,” he corrected, almost hoping to derail her. “I'm not your boss anymore, you don't need to address me so formally.”

“Right. Aaron, with all due respect...and you know I love you right? Like so so much. But...you don't spend a day in the hospital over nothing.”

Weighing his options, he smoothed a soft pink blanket over his legs. Tracing huge peonies with his fingertips, he attempted to sort his thoughts. The medication they'd given him made him foggy and fragile, the first few hours afterward were usually either sleep or cry, rarely in between but he thought he could manage his way through this one without having a completely irrational breakdown.

“I'm sorry.” He always started there, because he was. “It isn't nothing, but it isn't anything you need worry about. A few too many explosions, a few too many car wrecks and rough takedowns...” Years of firing weapons hadn't done him any favors, and neither had Foyet. His body was a wreck, and that was simply all there was to it. When he was working, he didn't have time to pay it much mind. A body in motion stays in motion. A handful of ibuprofen would get him through a few bad hours, something a little stronger on days off...he'd managed well enough. Now he was moving slowly through semi-retirement and it was all catching up to him. He wished he could tell her a story, give her something like a diagnosis she could look up and understand and feel comfortable with...he knew that would make it easier for her to swallow, but he didn't have anything to offer. Just a back that, today, wouldn't allow him to move. Getting out of bed on his own had been nearly impossible, and maybe the hospital was an overreaction on Derek's part but Hotch couldn't fault him for that...this was still somewhat new to him, too. He'd heard, they'd had secret backdoor ways to keep in touch, but he hadn't seen until recently and he'd had Hotch in the hospital for it twice when normally he would have laid at home in bed willing it to pass. Or sleeping. He got a lot more sleep these days. “I think he just likes when they pump me full of drugs. I'm nicer.” He smiled, but it was strained and a little sad, made her wonder how he'd gotten on all alone for so long.

Hotch knew better than to argue with Derek's will. Especially now, after so much time apart. He'd get tired of hospital visits that didn't do anything too, it would just take time. The same way it had taken Jack time. A few days of the kid beside himself thinking something was terribly wrong, that his dad was dying, and Hotch giving in and sitting in the Urgent Care or the ER for hours only to be told the same thing each time. Unless he wanted another surgery (and he did not), it was all just comfort measures when it got bad. Jack knew the drill, get the meds, get the heating pad, get a book. But now he had other things to think about, like Norma's suggestion that he really should consider coming out of retirement. A body in motion stays in motion, she and Derek loved to parrot one another...they had a point. He loved being with Jack but he also missed the purpose that came with working. And the distraction.

“Are you moving to Chicago?” she asked, no longer feeling like digging through something that made him so uncomfortable. Her sharp swerve jarred them both.

“It would seem that way.”

“Do you want to live in Chicago?”

He let a sly smile light up his features, his maple syrup eyes twinkling with mischief. Although, now that she really had time to consider it, she might have to let Norma know that they weren't exactly maple syrup...though she loved the implication of sweetness there, and how Norma seemed to compare everything with food. She'd love to hear Norma's thoughts on Derek. “No. But I want Derek to be happy, and I know it would make him happy to live close to his family again. He's given up enough on my behalf, I think it's my turn.”

“Is that where Jack is?”

“Yes. It's spring break so we flew him out to stay with Fran. She's going to show him a few schools, feel him out...I thought it might be better coming from her.” What he meant was that she could soften the blow. After so long in witness protection, they were planning to move again. It had taken some consideration, it was only after Hotch decided not to return to work that Derek asked him about Chicago. Said he'd been eyeing a house for years and it was finally for sale. Nothing ever went totally according to plan or dream, though. His bank didn't love a lot of it so he had to jump through some hoops, liquidate some assets and pay cash. It was worth it, he decided, it was his dream house. Close enough to his mother and the rest of his family, in a good neighborhood, good solid bones. It would be at least a year of jumping back and forth, Virginia to Chicago, working on the house with a team of contractors. Penelope pretended her heart wasn't breaking at the thought of losing both of them. All of them. Her family, together for so long, was drifting farther and farther apart.

Derek was at the door before she had a chance to inquire further, giving him a short reprieve from thinking about things that were a little overwhelming in his current state. He just wanted his eyes to focus on something because the little twinkly Christmas lights she had dancing over her walls were tripping him out. They really gave him the strong stuff this time. At his most vulnerable and pliable, Derek took full advantage. Using one finger he nudged Hotch's chin and tilted his head back to give him a kiss before he even said hi.

“Stay,” he directed with a grin when Hotch shifted and started to move, as if they were getting up to leave. “I brought dinner. We're sleepin' over. First night back with Penny and we owe her, yeah?”

“A sleepover?” Hotch squirmed.

“Think of it as an away case...this is just a really interesting hotel room.”

They ate dinner in Penelope's bed over a protective layer of towels. The television was on in the other room, but Derek and Penelope spent the entire time talking about Chicago while Hotch worked his way slowly through his meal. The medications they had him on made him feel dizzy and hungry, a dangerous combination if not managed properly. He was old hat at it now, knew exactly what order to go in, how slow to go, to make it work for him. The only real problem was that he was starving and would have liked to mow through it without restraint.

Derek, smashed in between his two favorite people, tried to help Hotch with his slow dinner. He picked at a spring roll playfully. “I'm doing just fine on my own, thank you,” Hotch muttered, snatching the fried treat back. “Saving it for last.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Derek gave him a sly smile, a smile that Hotch knew meant he'd shove it whole into his mouth any minute now if it wasn't eaten with some haste. “I'm gonna lick it.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Hotch gasped, locking eyes with Derek who only grinned.

“Wanna bet?”

Derek, for all his bold talk about movie night and having a good time and being together again, was asleep before anyone. The stress of Hotch's hospital visit and signing his life away on a house in Chicago had taken everything out of him. He lay passed out between them once everything was cleaned up, snoring and curled around Hotch but with his legs kicked out into Penelope's space. “At least he's wearing his boxers,” Penelope muttered, pulling the blanket up around him. She didn't mind him invading her space, he was warm. Her family was here, there was nothing in the world she could complain about even if the two of them had left her nothing but a sliver of bed to sleep on. She would probably wind up on the couch at this rate.

“You liked Norma,” Hotch whispered, glancing at Penelope over the mound of Derek's shoulder. “I think she liked you, too. Who wouldn't?” He was getting chatty as he faded. It was soft and groggy. “She's nice. Bossy like Jessica. Real mean streak. Good cook.” The nighttime meds Derek had poked down his throat worked fast. He sank into the pillows and his eyes took on a dreamy quality as she spoke nervously about Norma the Nurse who had already sent her a number of what she hoped were flirtatious texts.

“She's a good woman,” he continued, his syllables slurring while he drifted off. His head fell to the side, floppy too long hair in his eyes now. “You should ask her to dinner.” He paused, licked his dry lips and even with his eyes closed he grinned a little devilishly. She could smell his shampoo on her pillows. “Bring her to Chicago when you come visit.” Ever the romantic, she realized he'd already mapped out a long love affair for them in his mind and she didn't mind it one bit. First dinner, though. Then maybe a double date in Chicago. And lots of whipped cream if she was really lucky.

“Sir...” she muttered, carding her fingers through his hair while he drifted off to sleep. She couldn't understand how she'd forgotten anything about him, but she was glad to have it all back. Even if it was temporary. “I missed you. So much.”

“Mmmm...” he hummed back, and she knew it meant he missed her too.