#(yes i am aware that three people will see this total)

[nightskylonging]

Whose idea was it to make a kirtle out of flannel bedsheets in 29C weather?

Oh yeah, mine.

I'm merrily calling this project 'my descent into madness' and I'm having a grand old time. I'm engraining the metric system in my brain (American down, folks), I'm delighting in how comfy this thing is going to be (I did a quick pinned fitting with the side gores in, it is so soft and so flowy, and it'll be even more flowy once I get the front and back gores in), and I not only definitely have enough fabric for the sleeves, scary as they may be, but probably one or two kerchiefs as well! I won't wear those with the kirtle, that's too much dark blue in one go, though.

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy pt. 2 | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 1 | part 3

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Charles never responded to your text, leaving you wondering just what he meant. Lying alone in bed, you run through every interaction you’d had with Charles, slowly piecing together piece by piece until a revelation knocks the air from your lungs. 

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2018. The first time you’d met Charles Leclerc. You’d heard stories from Max about the infamous man, an old rival and a new friend of your boyfriends. He’d finally be given the chance to move up to F1, joining Sauber alongside Ericsson. 

You’d wandered off from Max, leaving him with a soft kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his hand as you went for a walk alongside the garages. Not looking where you were going, you walked straight into a sturdy body, a hand wrapping around your waist to prevent you from falling. 

Looking up in shock to apologise to the person you’d just slammed into, you couldn’t help but freeze at the eyes staring back at you. Molten gold surrounded by sea foam green. 

Still young and clean shaven, you couldn’t deny Charles Leclerc was objectively gorgeous. 

You apologised profusely, Charles brushing every sorry away as he made sure you were steady on your feet before slowly removing his hand from around your waist. He’d asked if you were a journalist or a technician for one of the teams, lips turned upwards in what you now recognise as a flirty smirk.

Before you had a chance to reply, Max appeared behind the two of you, lips pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he welcomed Charles to the paddock. Feeling his eyes roam over the two of you, green as fresh cut lime and just as bittersweet as they linger on Max’s hand that had replaced his on your waist, he responds jovially to Max. 

Max introduced you as a real estate agent and then his girlfriend, something you appreciated as he knew you didn’t like when people only saw you as an extension of him. 

You watched as Charles’ demeanour changed, slight enough that only someone who was paying close attention to him would notice. He greeted you politely, the smirk gone and replaced by a smile more suited to a first time meeting with his friend’s girlfriend. 

His race engineer soon called him away, the three of you exchanging goodbyes as Max directed you back to his garage. Unable to resist, you look back over your shoulder, only to find Charles already looking back. 

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👤 maxverstappen1, danielricciardo Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 298,718 others

y/nstagram yeehaw ! 🤠 lovely to be down in texas with the bull boys 💙

maxverstappen1 even when i cant see your face, you’re still gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram you like me so much its embarrassing xx ↳ maxverstappen1 y’all see how my girlfriend treats me?? ↳ fan yes humble him queen x ♥️ y/nstagram

redbullracing lovely to have you with us y/n! ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo save a horse ride a cowboy ↳ y/nstagram ??!! ↳ danielricciardo I MEANT MAX!!! I MENAT  MAX!!! ↳ maxverstappen1 you fucking better had ↳ fan literal pr nightmare ↳ redbullracing tell us about it!

charles_leclerc yeehaw! 🤠 ↳ y/nstagram see he gets it! Welcome to the paddock charles! 🥳 no inchidents you hear me 🤨🫵 ↳ charles_leclerc i am never living that down… ↳ maxverstappen1 not if i can help it!

fan but can she ride? ↳ maxverstappen1 very well ↳ y/nstagram redbullracing can someone take away his social media privileges ↳ redbullracing we tried… he bit the social media intern  ↳ fan max was totally the child who bit ankles  ↳ maxverstappen1 defamation??? ↳ y/nstagram true though 

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2020. It was the first gala of the year and you and Max were inseparable. His hand clasped your slightly clammy one, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand as a way to calm your nerves. He knew you like the back of his hand and was well aware of how much you hated these large galas, people clambering for the attention of the rising rookie, often disregarding you with a simple greeting before you faded into the shadow of future world champion Max Verstappen. 

You squeezed his hand once as you pulled yourself away from the group of people surrounding your boyfriend, slipping away to find the bar. As you plopped yourself down into the stool by the counter, you noticed you were not alone. A lone body sat beside you, hand tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. Looking up, you found yourself once again staring at Charles Leclerc. 

Over the 2 years since he’d joined the paddock, you’d only ever spoken in passing, normally accompanied by Max who kept the conversation flowing. Charles was nothing if not amicable, often engaging you in funny stories about their karting times, correcting any biased stories Max had told you. 

Those once bright eyes now seemed dull, worn down by the start of his 2020 season. You’d seen interviews of how proud he was to join Ferrari, wearing the red jersey with pride. But following incident after incident, whenever you passed him in the paddock, he looked more and more desolate. 

The two of you stared at each other before you glanced away, noting his empty glass. Calling over the bartender, you order a Mojito and another whiskey. Charles thanks you with a smile, tapping his fingers against the countertop as his glass is replaced with a full one. 

Not wanting to sit in silence, you ask how he’s feeling. The response is a shrug of his shoulders and a sip of his drink. Not good then. You raise your glass, tinking the edge of it against his before taking a quick drink. 

Roaming your eyes across the crowd just past Charles’ head, you take note of Daniel and Max lining up shots for the 2019 rookies. You laugh at Lando’s wide eyes and Max’s wink as he catches your eyes across the bar, catching Charles’ attention. He follows your line of sight, joining in with the laughter as George full body shudders at the first shot of what was probably tequila. 

The naivety of the 2019 rookies to trust your boyfriend and his best friend with alcohol breaks the last of the icy barrier between you and Charles, the two of you engaging in a genial conversation around the younger men. Charles recalls his own poor decision of letting Daniil and Daniel guide him to the bar during the 2018 gala, the story missing chunks as in his own words, his memory from that night was totally fucked. 

The conversation flows nicely between the two of you after that, topic after topic being nicely segued by the drinks repeatedly replaced in front of you. You learnt about his family, childhood pets, his racing dreams. In return you told him about your family, how you and Max met, and your blossoming career. 

Sebastian soon approaches the two of you, slinging an arm around yours and Charles’ shoulders. He ruffles the younger man's hair, nudging you as Charles grumbles playfully, hand coming up to fix the chestnut mess. He mentions a new sponsor that’s here, resting a hand on his chest jokingly as he apologises for pulling Charles away from your riveting conversation. You wave him off, waving goodbye to the two as they head off to hopefully secure more money for Ferrari. 

Watching them go, you see Charles turn back, smile soft and warm as he sends one last wave your way. Someone replaces his spot next to you, hand reaching out to interlink with yours. The feel of familiar calluses under your palm brings you back to your boyfriend who was looking to see what had grabbed your attention. 

An offhand comment about how he was sorry for being gone so long but he saw Seb at the bar and knew he would take care of you. The room was dark enough that you could understand how he could mistake the back of Charles for Sebastian, but for some reason you didn’t understand, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct the man. 

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👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 301,819 others

y/nstagram such a good time at the gala with my gorgeous boy 💙

maxverstappen1 gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram 😘😘 xx ↳ redbullracing our it couple 💙 ↳ alex_albon me and lily are crying in the corner thanks ↳ y/nstagram the it couple is me and lily lbr xx ↳ lilymhe i’m in love with you  ↳ alex_albon i should have kept my mouth shut 

sebastianvettel Beautiful as always y/n x ↳ y/nstagram thank you seb! Was good seeing you last night x

fan she’s everything and he’s just… there 

fan no cheesy comment from max? 👀 ↳ fan he literally called her gorgeous shut up 

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2021. Abu Dhabi. The year Max made history and ended Lewis’ world champion streak. It had been a difficult year for the two of you. Cancelled dates and a flat bought in Milton Keynes, sacrifices in your relationship made for this very moment. You could barely remember half of the race, too busy chewing the acrylic off your nails in stress. The engineers crowded him, hauling him onto their shoulders as champagne covered the entire garage. You’d barely been able to reach out a hand to pat his leg before he was carried off to the podium. 

Standing below, tears spilled down your cheeks at the sight. Your boyfriend, in his usual spot at the top of the podium, hands clasped eagerly around the World Championship trophy. The Red Bull team around you patted your shoulders comfortingly, some of them having to wipe away their own tears. He looks past the crowd, eyes passing yours briefly without much recognition. You blamed it on the adrenaline, knowing his mind was a hazy mess as the reality of what had happened dawned on him. 

Following the podium, he’d been whisked away by his team, press conference and the media paddock waiting eagerly to meet the new champion. You sat patiently in hospitality, welcoming warm wishes from whoever passed you. Alex had come bundling over, throwing his arms around you in congratulations. Laughing loudly as he squeezed you tighter, you hugged the reserve driver close to you. 

The wait was killing you, time dragging slower than ever. You decided to walk along to the media paddock to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. There he stood, in all his glory. Journalists threw question after question at him, microphone cords stretched to their limit as they all vied for his attention. He’d given his thanks, to the team, to his parents, to Christian himself. No mention of you. Again, you put it down to adrenaline, but something settled heavily in the base of your stomach. 

You began to worry that you hadn’t done enough, despite going along with everything he had thrown your way this year. Agreeing to him moving to Milton Keynes for the year, flying across to him when you had some leave from work. The missed dates, declining phone calls and texts from his side. You never failed to miss a race, to congratulate him after every win and support him through every bad moment. 

Brushing the sinking feeling off, you look across at the other drivers being interviewed. Most of the reporters were by your boyfriend's side, but some stragglers took this opportunity to catch the others as they made their way through the paddock. 

You’re startled as your eyes lock onto a pair staring back at you. Charles was mid interview, nodding along to whatever the journalist was saying. You smiled at him, mouthing your congratulations on getting into the points. He returned the smile, mouth hung lopsided as he responded to the question he was just asked. 

A Red Bull employee calls out for you, letting you know Max was leaving. You nodded towards the Monageqsue as a goodbye, turning to follow the employee. Your back burned at the feeling of emerald eyes following you. 

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👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 509,174 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my champion… forever proud of you for all you have and will continue to achieve. Drink it in, my dear, this is all for you ❤️

fan need someone to love me the way y/n loves max

fan the maxcheco hug 🥺

fan y/n supporting max is everything to me, true love fr

fan did no one else catch how he didn’t even hug her or anything? Like??? If i was him, she’d be the first person i go to ↳ fan i mean… i think they’re only together for PR rn … he’s also moved to milton keynes whilst she’s still in monaco, kinda dodgy ↳ fan he probably moved for work, also lets not speculate on peoples relationships pls and thx xx

fan no max comment? In the trenches rn  ↳ fan he liked though! ↳ fan bare minimum  ↳ fan dude he just won his first world championship he’s probably busy

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2022. The beginning of the end for you and Max. You suppose, looking back, the end had been looming long before then. Gone was the sweet, kind Max you’d fallen for, instead replaced by a beast. Win after win, pole after pole, championship after championship. His move to Milton Keynes became permanent, whilst you chose to stay in Monaco for your job. You still had Jimmy and Sassy to keep you company, a reminder of when life had been good. 

You’d bought the two bengals after you’d officially moved into Max’s flat. Sassy had been a daddy’s girl but Jimmy was yours through and through. Following you everywhere you go, meowing constantly if he was ever forced to leave your side. 

He was sitting beside you, one paw stretched out and resting against your leg when a text from Max came through. You already knew what it was going to say. Some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it back to Monaco between races. You sighed, reaching out to run your hand down the soft fur on Jimmy’s back. He purrs appreciatively, kneading gently against your skin. 

Red Bull had sent you the tickets for the next Grand Prix and to be honest, you felt like skipping it altogether. It was midway through the season, and despite attending every race, it was like you didn’t even exist to Max. 

Argument after argument continued, you tried to get across how horrible Max made you feel when he ignored you, him rebutting by saying you weren’t being supportive enough of him. Nights spent thousands of miles apart, phones silent on bedside tables and muffled cries from your end filling the solemn night. 

You didn’t bother to reply to his latest excuse, instead grabbing your keys and heading out the front door, dropping a small kiss to Jimmy and Sassy’s heads. They had ran out of food, and without even having to look in your cabinets, you knew you had to. 

The supermarket was a mere 10 minutes from your flat, the air warm and calm as you trailed down the pavement. The kind lady who ran the cafe on the corner greeted you warmly, pressing 2 kisses to your cheeks. You promise to come see her tomorrow, knowing she would have a latte and croissant waiting for you on your arrival. 

Two aisles down in the supermarket and as you reach for the cereal on the top shelf, a hand pops out the corner of your eye and grabs a box too. You hear it drop into your cart, looking up to a now familiar face. 

Charles smiles back at you gently, shopping basket in hand. The two of you didn’t speak, instead choosing to walk in comfortable silence around the rest of the store. Charles grabbed the oat milk you like, and you grabbed the cereal bars you saw him often chomping down on between qualifiers. 

At the tills, he loads your shopping onto the belt for you, adding the three items he had got for himself behind. As you loaded the last few bits into the large shopping bags you’d brought along with you, the card reader behind you beeps. As you look behind, you see Charles pick up the receipt and chuck his three items into the tote bag over his shoulder. 

You tried to argue that you could pay for yourself whilst thanking him at the same time, but Charles simply shrugged, walking out of the supermarket. You follow behind, loading the bags onto your arms as you bump the cart back into its spot with your hip. Charles watches you, a smirk on his face as you struggle to distribute the bags evenly enough to allow you to walk home. 

Chuckling, he grabbed two of the bags, moving along to his car. You followed sheepishly, thanking him for the ride home as he loads the bags into the minimal space in the boot. Gratitude shrugged off once again, he held the door open for you to slide in.

He offered to bring the shopping up for you when you reached your apartment building but you gratefully declined, not wanting to take up any more of his time. Telling you to say hi to Jimmy and Sassy, he watched you walk into the front door, leaving only once he saw you enter the elevators. 

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Liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 498,018 others

y/nstagram just a mum and her two (fur) babies 🧡🐱

fan !!!!! jimmy and sassy sighting!!!!!

fan which is which??? ↳ y/nstagram jimmy in the second pic and sassy in the third!! <3 ↳ fan they’re so cute 😭

francisca.c.gomes jimmy is SLUMPED ↳ y/nstagram hasn’t left my side all day, it’s tiring work being a mummys boy 😋

charles_leclerc did you tell them i said hi????? ↳ y/nstagram yes charles, i told them you said hi 🙄 ↳ charles_leclerc and what did they say? ↳ y/nstagram this is so stupid ↳ y/nstagram meow meow, meow meow meow, meowwwww - Jimmy and Sassy 🐱🐱 ↳ charles_leclerc my favourite kitties!!! I love you too 💖 ↳ fan charles is such a silly lil guy

fan y/n pls tell us what you ask for at the hairdressers!!! ↳ y/nstagram at the moment its a root touch up and occasional high and low lights, but when sometimes i throw in a chunky root ❤️ ↳ fan an ANGEL!!!!

fan not even a max like… on pics of his own CATS …. I wanna cry ↳ fan ngl i think you’re onto something there. 

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2023. The year you had decided Max and well and truly fallen out of love with you. The two of you couldn’t go two minutes without an argument, hurtful words bouncing off the four walls of what used to be a happy home. 

Two championships under his belt, and he was well on his way to a third. It wasn’t that he had changed entirely, the sweet Max you once knew was still there, he just seemed to hide away whenever the two of you were alone. 

He would still dote on Jimmy and Sassy, would approach the lady who owns the cafe with a kind smile and warm words, would run off to padel to be with his friends, often posting instagram stories of him smiling and laughing with the same people he fought with week on and week off on the track. 

He’d finally decided to grace you with his presence, moving back to Monaco for a week between races as he was pretty much guaranteed the championship as long as he placed above 4th in the next 2 races, and knowing him, he would. 

You had thought this would be a chance to connect, a way to work through your issues and bring back the man you know and love. However, he had walked through the front door, greeted the fussing cats and gone straight through to the bedroom. You stood in the kitchen, a homemade meal still simmering away on the stove. 

The sound of the shower pulled you from your spiralling thoughts, plating up the meal so it was ready for Max when he had finished. You’d nipped out that morning, especially to buy the ingredients for his favourite meal, sweating away in the kitchen as the private jet he owned flew from Milton Keynes to your home. 

Max left the bathroom, walking into the kitchen. He was fully dressed once again, cologne pungent from when you stood nearly 10 feet away. He barely glanced over the meal, grabbing his keys and throwing a quick see you later over his shoulder. 

As soon as the door shut, the dam inside you burst. Tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks, sobs choked and tore their way out of your throat, the sound primal and steeped in sorrow. Crouching down, you wrapped your arms around your bent knees, an almost upright fetal position. Jimmy and Sassy crowded you, confused purrs rumbling deep in their throats as they tried to nudge your head away from the home it had found between your knees. 

You had no idea how long you’d stayed there, body rocking back and forth ever so slightly as a way to self soothe. By the time you lifted your head, the sky was a mottled mix of reds and oranges. You moved on auto pilot, scraping the now cold dinner into tupperware, slotting them into the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white wine you’d put in there earlier to chill. 

A large glass sat beside you on the side table, body warm and safe under the blanket you had dragged from the back of the sofa. Scrolling through Twitter, you stopped for a moment as an F1 gossip page graced your screen. You’d normally swipe right past them, knowing they were onto the burning embers of yours and Max’s relationship, making up shocking titles to draw fans attention. This time, between the two of you, only Max was the headline.

You didn’t know what to think. Despite the growing tensions ontrack, the two men had always been friendly outside of the race cars. The tweet had gathered plenty of attention, already having nine thousand reposts and quote tweets. You pulled up your texts, hesitating as you hovered over Max’s name. He’d barely even glanced your way after 2 months apart, why should you worry about him now? 

Pulling up the old text thread with Charles, you take a moment to try and think about what to say. Would he think you were trying to spy for Max? Or would he think you were just digging around for the drama? Mind wandering, you managed to type out the bare bones of a text before your phone chimed, Charles beating you to it.  

You didn’t know why Charles was apologising. It wasn’t his fault your boyfriend fell out of love. 

Digesting his message, you willed yourself to cry, to scream, to cuss Max out to the quiet walls of your home. But nothing came. Numb to the feeling and drained from your previous breakdown, you stared at the blank wall ahead. You knew you should leave Max, all you were doing was hurting yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that would leave you all alone. 

Moving from the sofa to the door, you turned the deadbolt, sending Max a text to let him know to find somewhere else to stay that night. You were sure Lando or someone else would put him up. 

Falling into bed, you caught yourself hoping he’d find solace in the arms of another girl so you could use the excuse as a reason to end the horrible situation. Scolding your cruel mind, you turned your phone off and placed it face down on the bedside table, calling up the two cats who settled down either side of you. 

The ache in your chest kept you awake for a while, soon soothed as you remembered how Charles had defended you. How fucked up was it that the best friend of your boyfriend was the one who brought the first genuine smile in months to your face, his actions a calming balm across the festering cracks scattered across your heart. 

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liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others

y/npriv don't know, don't care

carmenmmundt you ok babe? ↳ y/npriv men... ↳ carmenmmundt ah you saw the tweet ↳ y/npriv yep... i'm chilling though, jim and sass are good company ↳ carmenmmundt want one more? ↳ y/npriv bring pastries pls and thank u x

francisca.c.gomes pierre chewed *** out in french after charles left, you should have seen his stupid face ↳ y/npriv tell pierre i said cheers x ↳ francisca.c.gomes he said thank you for giving a reason to shout at "fat head"

lilymhe can i come to the hangout 🥺 ↳ y/npriv ofc babygirl, the more the merrier x ↳ lilyzneimer i'm coming too then!!!! ↳ y/npriv ofc my lil sweetiepie 🩷

flavy.barla unbothered. moisturised. in my lane. focused. ↳ y/npriv don't think i didnt notice you omitting parts of the meme flavs ↳ flavy.barla well i'm not a liar... also i'll be there in 2 hours, este's driving me up ↳ y/npriv ugh a king x

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Dragging yourself back to the present, you pull in a shaky breath. Charles liked you. Charles had always liked you. And somewhere along the line, you’d ended up liking him too.

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a/n: part 2 is here! this will most definitely end up being a 2 parter, we're already at like 5k words 😭 let me know if you want to be added / removed from the taglist 🩷

taglist: @veryicyandspicey @oliviarodrigostan13 @fyegyall @inevesgf @brakingboundaries @boywondrgrayson @pand-de-pandora-blog @emily-b @barcelonaloverf1life @entr4p3 @asparklysoul @elia-the-bibliophile @ruebennett89 @sheslikeacurse @angywritesstuff @honethatty12 @hs-is-loml @krishasworld @velentine @weekendlusting @vintagefucksstuff @yourfreezing-hands @sinofwriting @cmleitora @ladyoflynx @zvrjkb @anuksunamon @sarahedwards16 @janeh22 @awritingtree @reguluscrystals

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Because I am gay (see name above) all of my favs are gay but because dc are cowards and refuse to admit that yeah having a character damn near exclusively date redheaded friends and then making both his male close friends redheads is a lil suspicious

I have simply decided that Dick is openly bi and no one has realized it in the universe.(Titans -core 9- and Clark Kent excluded)

So here picture this.

They’re all at a diner/batburger/ wherever they chill as civilians. Are they doing important stuff, working on cases, shooting the shit, your choice- I’m lazy.

And it’s practically empty bc none of them have normal schedules and so yeah you can have lunch at 4:45am that’s a normal time to eat.

And some dude walks in and Dick just straight up freezes for a sec before hiding under the table. The dude orders to go and fucks off.

Dick gets back up and does a cartoonish ‘phew’ bc he’s extra

Jason: yo what the fuck was that

Dick: what the fuck was what?

Tim: that- you hiding under the table of our booth??

Dick: oh that

Steph: no shit worlds third greatest detective

Jason: yeah you saw that dude and freaked, I once saw you laugh in banes face and use his forearm as a jungle gym? What gives?

Dick: oh come on! You’ve never wanted to avoid an ex??

*cue spit take from character of your choice*

Steph: AN EX?!?

Dick:??? Yes

Tim looks like he’s seeing god himself parting the clouds, giving him a view of the sun

Jason is just giving Dick the how did I not know this what the fuck dude how could you not tell me stare

Dick looks at each of them: what did you think I only dated babs and Kori?? I have a life outside of our night job?? Right? Like I’ve dated many people who still don’t know what I do at night?

Steph: no do how could you not tell us about H.I.M

Dick: I mean he wasn’t really all that…nice by the time we hit the three month mark and we didn’t have much in common outside of a shared hobby

Tim who was a closeted bisexual for 5 years realizing his first ever idol the first ever Robin also liked boys: .... you dated him for three months?? when?

Dick: I don't know we broke up like 2 months ago

Steph: How was I not aware of this information??

Dick: im sorry would you like detailed information about my sex life??

Jason, traumatised:.... so when I was Robin, you and roy weren't wrestling in the bathrooms..

Dick:.....

Tim:.....

Steph:.....

Dick: yeah Jay no shit?!?

Tim: so you and Wally... were not playing Jenga when I visited

Dick:... you are adults yes? you realise that I as an adult was not going to tell twelve year olds that I was getting laid?

Steph: Dickie DIckie baby.... we knew you were fucking

Tim: true

Jason: unfortunately

Steph: we just didn't know you were also fucking men

Dick:....

Dick massaging his temples: okay so.... you know I have a thing for redheads and I notoriously befriend my exes.

Tim: yep

Jason: mhm

Dick: and none of you thought for a second that my two redheaded best friends who both have a type aka Dark haired and can do a backflip... and just decided we were totally Hetero besties

Steph: yeahhh I mean...

Tim weakly: you guys just seem

Jay: like friends

Dick deadpan: Lian still calls me dad sometimes and Wally and Linda keep asking me to swing or join a throuple.

steph: fully believed they were joking high key tho

Dick: okay, okay... so the way that I talk about Joey Wilson... just didn't tell you anything?

Jay: okay that one... was my bad actually y'all were hella gay

Tim: hey! that's no fairrr we werent there

Dick: you broke into my house Tim, you literally stalked me

Tim: that's not the same and you know it.

[eddiemunsonappreciationsociety]

SPENCER REID BODYGUARD AU FANFIC

As I step into my house I’m aware that someone is here immediately. My heart picks up pace as I take the can of mace from in my bag, I try to get my hands to stop shaking as I peer around the doorframe into my kitchen. My heart briefly drops when I see a tall man sitting at my breakfast bar drinking tea. His floppy brown hair falls into his face.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?” I yell at him, waving the can of mace in front of me.

I bark at the stranger, tall and handsome and not meant to be sat in my fucking kitchen like he owns the place.

“So you haven’t spoken to Mr Smith yet,” he sighs.

“My dad sent you?”

“Yes, I’m Mr Reid, your new security detail”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am, Miss Smith”

“I am not a child I don’t need to be looked after,”

“Well, I’m afraid your dad doesn’t agree” he shrugs.

I start to rifle through my bag, trying to find my phone. I’m too mad and my bags too full of crap. I start to get frustrated when the tall stranger shoves his phone at me.

“It’s your father,”

I grab his phone off of him

“Dad, what the fuck?”

“I didn’t tell you earlier because I knew you’d flee,” my dads raspy voice travels through the phone “You’re going to go with my friend Mr Reid and he’s going to take you on a nice holiday,”

“He’s what?”

“My plane is going to take you and your new shadow to a nice little island and you’re going to take some time away where it’s safe,”

“This is fucking kidnap,”

“No darling, I’m trying to prevent exactly that happening,” his voice is soft

“Again,” I mutter sharply

“Yes, again” he sounds defeated “please, just go for a few weeks, see it as a holiday, it’s a beautiful villa by the sea, whatever you want I’ll get sent to you”

I don’t respond, my heart is racing and I feel sick.

“Darling, please”

It’s not often Tony Smith begs for anything.

“For how long?”

“A few weeks, maybe longer,”

I manage to stop the scream that wants to ring out of me. The audacity. He’s the reason I’m in danger anyway. Sure, when you’re one of the worlds biggest drug dealers it seems great and the moneys good but people hate you and want to hurt you and have what you have. They take daughters of drug dealers. I find my mind slipping back a little and I shake my head clear of the thoughts. I glance at the bodyguard, he’s dressed in smart trousers, shirt and tie.

“I’m not happy about this, and this guy you’ve hired: have you met him? He looks like a geography teacher. He’s wearing a bloody cardigan,”

Mr Reid finds this amusing, I see him smirk but he tries to hide it by walking away.

“I’ve met him and I know his reputation, you be nice to him,”

“Whatever, how long have I got?”

“Pack now, it’s hot, you leave in an hour. And you leave your phone there”

“I’m not leaving my phone”

“Mr Reid will give you a new one, but it’s restricted. You can’t let anyone know where you are.

“You’re the fucking worst, I’m not going,”

“Yes, you are. This isn’t optional, you will go nicely or you will be taken forcefully. Either way you’re getting on that plane. Go and pack, don’t think you’d like what the geography teacher would bring you.”

I hang up on my dad and hand the phone back to the bodyguard. He takes it and holds his hand out.

“What?”

“Your phone too,”

“We’re not going yet,”

“Give me your phone,” he says if slowly, demanding.

I slam it into his hand and turn on my heel, heading to my room.

I try to clear the rage from me and think about what I actually need to pack. I throw a bunch of clothes, some books and my Switch into a suitcase. My makeup, skincare and other toiletries go in another.

After trying to streamline what I thought of as a full, big life, it feels depressingly small. I pack a total of three suitcases and am still have time to sit in the edge if my bed and have a slight panic attack.

My new bodyguard comes half way through my freak out.

“Cars here, are you okay?”

“I'm kind of freaking out,”

“Yeah, no doubt. Let’s both panic on the plane though,”

I watch him take a seat opposite me on the plane and he smiles, looking around with an almost nostalgic look on his face.

“What?” I ask as I catch his eye

“Been a while since I’ve been on one of these,” he shrugs.

“You had a jet?” I try not to sound bitchy but that’s clearly impossible.

“No, we had one for my old job” he seems unphased.

“What did you do?”

“Oh, we’ve got a while together Miss Smith, let’s not use up all the small talk at once,” he grins at me.

“That’s fine by me,” I shrug and put my headphones in

[phantominzie]

Ranting about TSS

I would like to start by saying, yes, I am fully aware I don't post fandom rants very often (ESPECIALLY SASI). However, I've been feeling rather upset over the fandom and Thomas.

I would also like to mention that in no way is this attacking Thomas or any of his writers, hell, not even the fandom itself. I just need to let all of this out.

You're always totally free to skip over this, I know ts crit isn't everyone's cup of tea <3

To start, I am so just...tired? It's been so frustrating waiting for a finale for four fucking years and getting the bait and switch every time Thomas makes a post about 'upcoming Sanders Sides content!'

I understand taking time to work on something so important to cannon, but four years? I can also give him a little leeway for having some staff issues, but it's almost painful to only keep getting the series we love get downgraded so harshly over the years.

Almost all of the sides have been made so two dimensional. At first they felt so fleshed out, so real, and fandom focused their character on one sole trait (not unforgivable but a bit frustrating). Then, I guess Thomas just picked up on fandom and decided 'yeah! I'll just make them two dimensional too!' That's not what we want. And frankly that's never what we wanted. Occasionally, he'll give us breadcrumbs of character development, or show us a sliver of light to what they once were, but it's never the same.

And frankly, I feel bad for having my hopes so high for the finale. Sure it's been taking four years, but that doesn't mean it will be perfect, hell, it might suck. Of course, I will watch it, but I won't be happy about it. About the lies, about the bait and switch, about the constant merch plugs over actual content, about the four incorrect quotes over working on the finale, about the prioritizing of under five minutes long videos that no one will watch anyways.

I love that Thomas is working on things that make him happy, and I don't think I'll ever stop being happy about that, but he needs to take into heart that without content, merch won't sell anyways.

He made a tweet recently that said that we would be getting the finale in an uncertain number of weeks, but based on the past four years I don't even think it will come out at all. If it does, I swear that if we get a merch plug in the finale I'm going to lose my shit.

I want him to see that fandom can't carry itself, and that if he doesn't have that finale have the actually well done makeup we've been begging for, or have our three dimensional characters back, then he won't have a fandom at all.

I'm almost angry that this is my special interest at this point, I'm so let down by the direction the series is probably headed.

I hope that no one takes this the wrong way, and if people leave death threats in my inbox (which has happened to people posting ts crit; no i'm not joking) then trust that you won't be answered. No one is to tag Thomas on this post, and if Thomas even finds this post then heed the words I've said. This isn't a threat to you, and frankly it never was. What is it is the frustrations of a tired and exasperated fan.

I'm sorry if this has rubbed anyone the wrong way, I apologize if it has. I hope this doesn't make people think I'm becoming some TSS hater, I'm really not. But I'm frustrated, and that's normal

Thank you for reading this all the way through if your here, I love you <3

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Demons [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (Google) Center (@hotchs-big-hands [my beloved])

Prompt: The team is forced into very close quarters during a case on an offshore oil rig in Alaska. It’s bitterly cold and there’s nowhere to go, and three men have been beaten and stabbed to death. The team must solve the mystery before it’s too late. A mix-up in rooms also has Aaron and the reader closer than ever. It allows him to learn something new about her. 

Category: Angst/comfort 

Word Count: 15.6K 

Content Warnings: Sleep paralysis, canon typical violence, death (of a victim and unsub), beating (with a blunt object), choking (briefly described), mention of death by stabbing, the threat of death by knife/gun, mention of drowning (unsub), mention of abuse (in the past [Hotch]), slight mention of blood, language, hospitals, slight body image issues (Hotch). Please let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Ahhhh, hi loves. Did anyone ask for something this long? No. Did I expect to write this much? No. But the scenes kept coming, and I kept writing them down. I just love the writing process. It’s so cool. But enough of that. This story’s mostly based on a northern gothic vibe and the age-old, ‘only one bed’ trope. I am very happy with how this turned out and I hope you all like it too. You could read this as a stand-alone or as a prequel to my story, Unwanted Attention (linked). A huge thank you to my top hype woman @sadgirlzluvdilfs (ILY) If you like this story as well, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Friday night! - Love Levi. 

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_y/e/c_ = your eye color 

Hotch got a call from Strauss in his office. He had hoped that Monday would be a quiet work day for himself and the team. He was currently drowning in paperwork, and as he glanced down at the bullpen. He could see his team trying to do their best to also catch up on the more clerical side of their jobs as FBI agents. Strauss had told him to meet her in her office immediately. He replied, “Yes, Ma’am. I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his shoulder bag, and moved toward the elevator. It was a short ride up to the twentieth floor of their building, and Aaron wondered what he should prepare for when he arrived at Struas’s office.

He walked down the long hallway and knocked twice on his boss’s door before opening it. Aaron was not expecting to see The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, Frank Ridgewell, seated across from Strauss. Both the Commissioner and Strauss stood when he entered her office.  Erin gestured to Ridgewell and said, “Agent Hotchner, I’m sure you know Commissioner Ridgewell.” Aaron nodded. He had never met the man in person before, but he was aware of who he was, and how important he was to the United States. Aaron extended a hand and Mr. Ridgewell took it, giving it a firm shake. Once the quick introduction was done, Strauss said, “Let’s all have a seat.” From Erin’s tone, whatever was happening here was important. Strauss indicated to the other man in the room, and Frank turned toward Aaron asking, “Are you aware of the new offshore drilling operation in Alaska?” Hotch furrowed his brow and replied, “Only tangentially. I understand that the rig was built quickly and there was a land dispute. I’m also aware that there were environmental protests over beginning new drilling so close to a naturally preserved site.” Ridgewell nodded and said, “You’re correct. As of three months ago, the oil rig has been fully operational. The rig employs sixty-seven people in total. Fourty-four of those individuals are employed part-time or have shift work on the operation. The other twenty-three are full-time employees that work one month on-site and three weeks off.” Aaron had his legal pad out and was taking a few notes as the Commissioner spoke. He was waiting for the important information with a bit of impatience. This had to be important if it wasn’t coming from JJ. If it was coming from the top, he needed to be meticulous in his work and the various details being thrown at him. 

After another minute of the smaller details about the rig and its crew. Ridgewell’s tone changed. The man said, “Well all that preliminary information is building up to say that within the first three months of operation, three men have been killed. Only one of the twenty-five men working full time on shift could be responsible for the deaths. The three victims were found beaten and stabbed to death at various locations on the job site. The first victim was found by one of the security guards and the next two were found by workmen.” Aaron nodded, finally understanding the gravity of the situation, and asked, “And you believe that the BAU can assist you in finding the unsub on this oil rig?” Frank looked confused as Hotch said, “Unsub,” and Aaron clarified, “The Behavioral Analysis Team calls potential murderers Unknown Subjects, or unsubs for short.” At hearing this, Ridgewell nodded and replied, “Yes, yes I do, but there’s more to it than just the killings.” Aaron raised an eyebrow and Strauss chimed in for the first time during the meeting, saying, “Take a look at these Agent Hotchner.”

Strauss pushed a file labeled ‘Classified,” in front of the Unit Chief. Hotch opened the folders and inside found a dozen or so copies of transcripts and pictures of messages that had been unencrypted. The jist of all of them was that the three deaths had been an intentional attack on the U.S. oil and gas industry. After Aaron had carefully examined these pictures, he looked over to Strauss and then Ridgewell. He asked, “So you believe there is credibility to these claims?” Ridgewell gave a half-shrug before answering, “We can’t be sure yet, but if this information got and with the new site already having a negative reputation, there would be dire consequences. The current administration is desperate to keep prices on gas and oil low and even a momentary shutdown of operations would affect the bottom line. And heaven forbid those messages leaked to the public. Half of the States would be in a panic, and there'll be a run on fuel.”

Hotch nodded. This case was more complicated than he had first expected. Strauss looked at her Senior Agent and stated, “We need you and the team in Alaska as soon as possible. This is a matter of national security. Agent Hotchner. You and the BAU will need to be extremely careful.” Aaron replied, “Yes, Ma’am.” He then turned to Ridgewell and said, “I’ll need to brief my team. We’ll be headed to the site by the afternoon.” Frank looked relieved and replied, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner. I’ll email you the file with the current crew of the rig and their supervisor. I should warn you that it’s going to be close quarters up there.” Aaron nodded. He didn’t ask for elaboration about the space, he was going to be there by the end of the day anyway, and he didn’t have time to think about it right now. Hotch stood and shook hands with Ridgewell and Strauss before straightening his jacket and moving outside to the hallway again. 

Back in the bullpen, he moved to his office, He would need to check his email and do a bit of research before calling the team to the briefing room. He moved toward his office and Rossi passed him. Dave looked over his neutral expression. Though Aaron rarely showed his emotions openly, Rossi knew him well enough to know that something was amiss. David flashed him his, ‘New case?” Look, to which he nodded affirmatively. Aaron could see Rossi’s shoulders fall slightly. Hotch understood that his friend had also wanted a break. The caseload had been extra heavy over the last month and a half, and the team was aching for a break.

As the two men passed each other on the stairs, the sound of laughter caught Aaron’s attention. He knew the laugh well. Better than he should. Aaron turned and saw y/n sitting at her desk. She had a file slightly covering her face and her _y/e/c_ eyes were bright and wide. Emily and Derek were standing beside her having made some joke that he hadn’t heard. Looking at her like this, as a casual observer made a small flame in his chest flicker slightly, like a lighter being turned on by an unsteady hand. Aaron had begun to recognize that the small attraction that he had for y/n had grown. Now every time he looked at her, he felt the need to stifle a sigh.

For now, he was safe. y/n hadn’t shown any particular interest in him, that he could tell. Or maybe he was just pretending to not notice when _y/n_ looked at him for longer than necessary, or how she checked in on him often, just to make sure he was really doing alright. Hotch turned away as another peal of laughter emerged from the group downstairs. In his office, he turned on his lamps and opened his email inbox for the new information Strauss had CC’d him. It was a good 110 pages of personnel files and maps of the site. More important for the team was when the supply boat schedule which went to the rig in the morning and early evening. It took Hotch a full hour to skim all of the new information. He sent Garcia an SOS to get as much dirt off the Northern Oil and Gas Supply LLC as she could. Particularly the new oil site called Farpoint 52, -153. The name was unassuming, and the first thing Penelope told him was that the numbers were latitude and longitude points in Alaska, but not those of the actual site. 

When Aaron was ready, he had seven file folders with all the most important information accumulated including pictures of the victims that the local PD in Anchorage had just sent over. The attacks were brutal. The injuries on the three bodies seemed to be caused by blunt force trauma, and as Ridgewell had said, there were multiple stab wounds on the victims as well. Hotch took a long breath as he got up and moved outside his office. He knocked on JJ and Rossi’s doors and gave them their files. JJ said, “I’ll get Garcia to come and set up the screen in the briefing room.” Aaron thanked her, and she and Rossi moved out of his way.

Hotch placed his hands on the railing of the stairs and called out for his agents saying, “BAU team, I need you in the conference room.” As all four members of the team looked up to him, the mood of the room changed, dimming from how lively it had just been. Hotch turned toward the meeting room before he could see their faces fall once more. Sometimes he thought that he couldn’t keep doing this to them. To himself. The isolation he felt when he was home alone left him a breathless aching mess. It was rare when he allowed those feelings to overwhelm him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. When this happened, he often found himself in a steaming hot shower. So hot that it hurt. When he couldn’t control his emotions, he felt like a kid again after his father had gone on either a verbal or physical diatribe about his perceived shortcomings. The reminders of the abuse he endured for years would flare up and make him feel a different kind of shame and hurt than letting his team down. By the end of the shower, he had normally excised these emotions and feelings of weakness and would fall into a fitful sleep afterward. 

y/n watched Aaron turn quickly. She let out a long sigh at the announcement about a new case. Everyone on the team was exhausted, and it seemed that Hotch was the most exhausted of them all. She had watched him closely over the last month. Something about his demeanor had shifted. y/n wondered if it was the two-year anniversary of Hailey leaving him that had initiated the change, or if it was something else personal or professional. She wanted to ask him what was wrong. How she could soothe him from the stress she could sense coming off of him. But she assumed that might be stepping over some personal work line, and she was still relatively new to the team. She didn’t want to risk any consequences for being overly personal. For now, all she could do was watch and wait for a time that seemed appropriate. She was fully aware that that time may never come and would have to be okay with just being near someone as commanding and steady as Aaron. 

In the briefing room, everyone but Hotch and JJ sat. Aaron moved to the head of the table and said, “This morning I got a call from Director Strauss. When I got to her office, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commissioner was waiting for me. He has a case for us in Alaska that is a top priority. And…” Hotch paused as seven pairs of eyes waited for more details. Realizing that it might be more efficient to have his agents just read the brief in their files, he said, “Actually, why don’t you just turn to page one in your files and read over the case notes so far? I’ll give you a few moments.”

The team opened the files in front of them and read the 1,000-ish word briefing on the first page. They were all aware that this case was different than the rest and that the brief hadn’t been written by JJ. Spencer and y/n could tell it was Hotch’s writing almost immediately. The tense use and wording were very direct and blunt, just as Aaron was. Not that JJ added fluff, just that she took a few more words to make a point than their Unit Chief. Once those seated at the table had read over the first page and taken a look at the victim's pictures, Aaron moved forward and said, “Well as you can see, this latest case doesn’t have a lot of victims, but the timeline is progressing quickly and given that the crew is so small, these deaths have caused issues in the operation of the rig. On top of this, it seems that foreign agents are claiming they are playing a part in these deaths. If this is true or not; we can’t be sure until we find the Unsub.” Rossi tossed in the comment, “If it is foreign agents, they are most likely to come from Russia or the Middle East where much of the oil in the U.S. comes from. We should look at the crew and see if there are any potential ties to those countries.” Hotch inclined his head at the suggestion. It was a good one. With the primary details being said and a long flight ahead of them, Aaron concluded the information session by saying, “I recommend bringing the warmest clothes you have in your go bags, and something waterproof if you have it; I’m sure you can guess that it will be cold and wet where we’re headed.”

Aaron looked at his team as they started standing, and he added one last thing that stilled the team and drew their attention to him again. He simply said, “I understand that this team has gone through a lot in the last few cases. I know you’re tired. After this case, I’m going to do my best to find some time for us to be off and recuperate for a bit. Please know that your efforts and work don’t go unnoticed by me. That’s all.” With his mini pep-talk finished, the team moved into action again. Aaron had meant what he said of course, but had also said it for himself too. 

As everyone filed out of the room, y/n approached Aaron and just barely touched his forearm to get his attention. Hotch looked down at her and asked, “What is it, y/n?” Sometimes when y/n looked at him specifically, intentionally, he thought he saw a flicker of something more in her eyes than just attention and respect. He thought he saw it now, but he cleared his head. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. y/n didn’t seem to notice how deeply he was looking at her when she said, “When you spoke to Strauss this morning, did she say anything more about the case? Is there anything else we need to know?” She hoped she wasn’t asking for information he couldn’t give. Hotch continued looking down at her for a moment before replying, “She just said that we needed to be safe. There are a lot of unknowns here. More than usual for a case.”

y/n acknowledged his statement and said softly, “Got it. See you in the parking lot.” With that, she quickly left to gather her go-bag and race to get some coffee if she could before the jet left for Anchorage. When y/n had gone, Aaron took another moment to minorly compose himself. Then he moved to catch up with Garcia. He was going to ask her to join the team on this case due to the technical aspects that might be involved. He had a sinking suspicion that getting her on wifi all the way out where they would be might be harder than on the mainland. If foreign assets were involved or there was tampering with the equipment of the rig’s systems, Penelope was the most capable of any of them to lend a hand. 

Thirty minutes later, the team piled into the jet with their go bags and files. Garcia was a balm to what seemed to be an already dreary case. As everyone sat, the ideas started flowing about motive and the type of unsub that they were dealing with. Spencer and Morgan were thinking about the physical elements of the unsub. Things like the impact of the wounds, the type of weapon being used to inflict them, and the force that would be needed to cause them. Their top ideas for weapons were a baseball bat or some other blunt object that had lots of fulcrum power. Meanwhile, JJ and Emily were looking through the personnel of the twenty-five full-time employees. Garcia was on every possible legal and illegal site that tracked energy and messages that could possibly correlate with countries like Russia, Iran, or Iraq. Rossi and Aaron were looking deeper into the oil company as a whole.

To them, it seemed a little sketchy and the fact that Mr. Ridgewell had asked for the team personally belied that there might be some shady business not only from outside but inside the company as well. Rossi was talking about a possible correlation with BP and their recent legal troubles. As all this was happening, y/n sat and listened to the cacophony of sounds bouncing around the plane. She had her notebook out and was taking her usual annotations on the case and jotting down when someone on the team said something she thought was important. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the chatter happening around her, so she took a moment to grab a coffee from the back of the jet. The team had moved out so quickly that she didn’t get a chance to grab a cup in the office break room. She moved past Hotch and noticed he wasn’t holding a cup either. y/n stopped briefly in front of her boss, and he looked up at her. She made a hand motion to indicate ‘drink?’ Aaron gave her a small, grateful look and nodded his head yes. 

At the back of the jet across from the small sink and mirror, was the coffee machine. She put in the water and a capsule for the Keurig. y/n placed a cup under the dispenser and pushed run, on the machine. y/n somehow hated the Keurig coffee more than the office coffee. It managed to always taste burned and flavorless no matter which flavor of pod she picked. But the caffeine was a necessity at the start of a case for her. It was half ritual half desire, and she didn’t fight it. When her cup was finished, she started the process again for Aaron, who no matter what coffee he was drinking, seemed unfazed by the quality of the brew. As Hotch’s cup started filling, y/n doctored her own cup with milk and white sugar.

Once both drinks were ready, she placed lids on the cups and moved back to the cabin of the plane. As she passed Hotch, she seamlessly handed his cup to him, as she settled back to her own spot further down the row. Garcia watched as this happened. It was like moving a baton between two runners in a relay. ‘They hardly looked at each other while it happened!’ The technical analyst thought. Penelope hadn’t been on a case since y/n had joined, and this behavior was new and exciting for someone like Hotch.

Garcia had taken special care with y/n. The newest BAU agent was young, and she knew more about y/n’s background than most of the team. Because of this, Garcia had done her best to uplift and support y/n. But it seems that y/n was supporting the team in small ways too. Penelope knew that _y/n_ was attentive and sharp in her mind and actions if she needed to be. But this was generally hidden beneath her gentle warm exterior. But seeing y/n meet even the smallest needs without even being asked to was such her thing; at least, that was what Penelope thought. Now that she was here seeing this, Garcia was going to have to pay more attention to y/n and Hotch. Because she wanted to know if this was just a them thing, or was y/n acting like this with the whole team? 

y/n sat and took a sip of the coffee that was a little too hot. The liquid burned her tongue and she made a small face of pain. Thankfully no one was looking at her at the time. y/n set the cup in the cupholder next to her seat and looked at the picture of the rig itself again. This setting was so bizarre for a crime. Even the photos of the outside of the rig made her feel unnerved. y/n tried to think of any prior cases like this. There had to be some. y/n was fiercely thinking about old cases. Old old cases even. This case was going to require thinking outside the box. Finally, with eyes closed and brows pinched, some ideas started coming to her. With some inspiration, she began writing quickly on a new page of her notepad As this was happening, Aaron looked around the cabin. Everyone was still intensely focused, and he walked around each group to see what they had come up with so far.

Spencer and Morgan had surmised that the unsub was probably smaller than they might assume. Given that they used blunt objects to kill the victim. If the unsub had a lot of strength, they should be able to kill their victims without the need for an object. Between JJ and Emily, they had pinpointed a few possible workers who might fit certain profile types and those specifically seemed to be linked to odd organizations or firms that could be linked to terrorist organizations. As Aaron moved to ask Garcia how it was going, she shooed him away with a tut-tut indicating that she was too busy for a check-in at the moment. 

The last person he needed to see was y/n. As he approached her, she seemed deep in thought, and he sat across from her and sat for a minute or two in silence as he let her wrap up whatever she was writing. When y/n’s pen stilled, she looked up at him and he asked, “You seem to be having some ideas overhear. Mind sharing them with me?” y/n nodded, looking down to her notes. She resisted the urge to say, ‘I don’t feel good about this case. I can’t pinpoint it, but something feels off here.’ Instead, she said, “I was thinking about the setting; the rig. Looking at the ariel photographs, the maps of the interior, and the security footage from the main hallways made me think about something. It’s so isolated. If you work there then it’s a tight space, and you work a dangerous job, and you see the same twenty or so people day after day for three to four weeks.”

Hotch nodded along, getting a feeling for where she was going. When they made eye contact again, he said, “And?” He was encouraging her to finish her thought. y/n gave a soft sigh as if she was doubting herself. Whether there was doubt or not, y/n continued, saying, “Well those working conditions can’t be good for one’s psyche. I was considering some old cases. I know that Cabin Fever isn’t a diagnosable psychological condition, but there’s a history of those symptoms manifesting in groups of isolated people. I’m thinking as far back as the Donner party in 1846. There was the Highcliff’s in 1980, and more recently the Smith and Wess party in 1992. I know these are ancient cases for the team but it seems to fit to me. I know this case could be way more complex given the terrorism element, but just looking at the brief you wrote, I think this might be a case of insanity due to the location. I could be wrong. I could be totally off here, but it’s what I’ve got so far.”

Aaron thought about what y/n had said and replied, “I’m not saying that that train of thought is not out there, but given the novelty of this case, I think we need someone who is thinking with a separate mind frame. Once we’re on site, keep what you have here in the back of your mind. If you see anything that relates to this theory let me know immediately.” y/n nodded at him in agreement as he stood and made his way back to Rossi. Sometimes when Hotch or anyone asked her her thoughts early on, she feared that she sounded unhinged, or worse, stupid. y/n was still finding solid footing with the team, but Hotch never dismissed her ideas unless they were fully implausible, and she appreciated that about him. 

The flight moved quickly after this. Although there were five hours left, the team regrouped and shared what they knew before touchdown in Anchorage. When the jet landed, the sun was already setting in the West although it was only 5:30 p.m. It only took a few minutes before they arrived in the SUVs at the dock with the resupply boat that would take them to the rig thirty minutes offshore. The team turned in all three sets of keys to the cars to the police officer waiting for them at the dock. Aaron promised to call the local LEO when the team was ready for their return to the small airstrip.

The team pulled their go bags from the back of the cars. Derek was kind enough to carry Garcia’s pink and sparkly duffle on top of his small carry-on suitcase. The team had bundled up in their jackets and they were buffeted by the harsh northern winds beating them from all sides. As they boarded the gangway, Hotch momentarily steadied y/n who he was walking next to. Though she seemed okay, it seemed to him that she could use a steadying hand for a moment as she battled the wind. When she felt Aaron approach her and then place a steadying hand just barely against her back she looked at him. He wore that expression that just said, ‘I’m here.’ y/n gave him a nod, indicating that she appreciated the gesture. Aaron kept his hand where it was until they got on deck.

Once they were on a more sturdy surface, Hotch removed his hand but moved to take the handle of y/n’s small wheeled case in his open left hand. Their hands brushed briefly as they exchanged the weight of her luggage. Neither Aaron nor y/n said anything at the exchange, but she gave him a soft smile as he moved toward the stairway that led to the passenger area of the ship. This had become a little pattern of theirs over the past few months. There was a kind of shared understanding of care between them. Aaron told himself that this was him taking care of his newest agent, and _y/n_ told herself that this was her trying to prove that she noticed the small needs of the team; both of them were lying to themselves. 

Once the team was downstairs, y/n took charge of her case again, as Aaron and JJ moved to the control room to introduce themselves to the captain and get some relevant information. While the team waited to start moving, they all settled into the uncomfortable benches either in the center of the boat or those near the sides of the room that had a few windows looking out onto the choppy Alaskan Sea. After a few minutes, the boat motors started roaring to life and the resupply vessel moved toward the open water. Garcia moved to sit next to y/n who had slumped down on a bench next to one of the windows. The waves were a dark green and blue, and the clouds had turned a charcoal grey as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Penelope looked over to y/n and asked, “How are you holding up, friend?”

y/n looked over to Garcia and said, “I don’t like this Penelope. This feels off to me. This case.” Garcia nodded along and said, “Trust your gut y/n. You know yourself better than anyone else. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” y/n nodded and both she and the tech whizz turned to look as Hotch and JJ returned from the bridge.

Aaron stepped into the center of the room. The boat listed up and down slightly, but he seemed perfectly stable even as the boat took on a large wave. In his smooth voice, Aaron said, “According to the skipper we should be at the rig in around twenty-five minutes. Apparently, the seas are pretty rough tonight. Once we get there, the boat will take a few minutes to dock. A worker on the rig is going to get our luggage for us, so leave it here by the door when we disembark. Once we’re on the rig the first thing we'll do is meet the foreman. As you saw in the file, his man is Mr. Obermann. Once I’ve introduced us all, we’ll get a tour of the rig. Find rooms and then debrief if that sounds alright?” Everyone agreed and said so in some way or another. y/n always found it interesting that he said things like, ‘If that’s alright with you.’ To the team. It’s not exactly like they had a choice on what happened at the start of a case. y/n hypothesized that he did this to give them an allusion of control. Also, if someone did really have a suggestion that the team do something differently -- like asking to go to a crime scene or the hospital or something like that -- then he would consider it. However, Aaron was usually good at predicting the needs of the team and the case. He was their leader after all. 

The resupply boat arrived at the rig and the size of the massive object that was being buffeted by the cold waves was more massive than any of them had imagined. The rig wasn’t the only thing being pushed by the harsh wind. As the team got outside and made it to the short ladder they would need to climb to get to the main platform. Derek helped y/n and Garcia get to the ladder while Aaron helped JJ, and Rossi provided Emily a steadying hand. The whole team pulled their jackets tighter around themselves as they made it to the main door. A worker pulled the heavy metal door open for them. The door led directly to the crew’s rec room. Mr. Obermann was waiting for them and stood as the team entered the room.

Aaron moved to the front of the pack and introduced himself and the team quickly. Mr. Obermann looked stressed and worn out which was understandable given the circumstances. The man said, “Well I appreciate you all coming so far. If this doesn’t get fixed it will be hell for the company, but more importantly to me twenty-five good hard-working men. Because you’ve all come I’ve sent all the temp workers home until you find our guy. What did you call him again?” Aaron replied, “The unknown subject, or unsub for short.” Obermann nodded and said, “Yeah. That. The men that are still here are freaked. They all think they’re going to be the next victim. It’s not good for the job as they need to pay full attention to what they are doing. Risk of injury on offshore rigs are thirty-three percent more likely than those on land.” Obermann stopped to take a breath before continuing, “Now I’ll give you a tour of the place. I need you all to put on hard hats. 

The protective headwear was passed out, and the team put the hats on. JJ, Penelope, and y/n struggled not to laugh at the look of all the men on the team wearing the hats. Particularly Rossi, Morgan, and Aaron. Hotch looked like a midwestern politician trying to get votes from the rustbelt to y/n, and she actually had to cough to hide her laugh. She was fully aware that she must also look like a fool, but she just couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Once they were equipped, the team and Mr. Obermann moved through an internal door that led to a long hallway. The foreman moved through each of the rooms on that floor, including his small office, the mess hall, the laundry room, and some of the sleeping quarters. They moved outside, and the team looked at the helipad, and the derrick that brought the oil up to the surface. The team moved back inside and moved down the steps to the first level of the rig.

The lower floor was very dark and close to the water level. The sound of the waves could be heard through the thick steel and concrete which spoke to the power of the water surrounding them. Obermann guided through the more mechanical side of the rigs. The communal showers for the crew were also located on the second level. As they walked through the mechanical room, Obermann said, “This room is generally off limits, but as you know, the first victim was found here. I ask that if you need to be in here, let me know and I’ll send someone to open it for you.” The tour took a long time as the space was cramped and a lot of the rooms required them to be careful. Obermann led them back to the rec room where their luggage was waiting for them. Oberman said, “I’ll give you all a few minutes to pick rooms for yourself. The rooms that are free are downstairs. With all of you here, you’ll have to double up. The keys to the rooms are on the table and are labeled with the number that matches the door. Now I have some paperwork to attend to, but I’ll be in my office for any questions you have.” 

As Obermann moved to his office, the team looked at each other. Having to share rooms was never something they enjoyed. Though the team was close, it was an entirely different thing to have to share a room. The team's cases often brought a lot of stress and little sleep, and having the privacy of their own space let them decompress in their own form or fashion was needed. On the rare occasions that the team did share rooms, it was fine, but everyone was far more comfortable alone. But, the work needed to be done, and they needed to start quickly, so no one made a fuss. With that out of the way, the team paired up. Derek, Spencer, and Rossi shared one of the rooms that had three beds, and JJ, Emily, and Garcia took the other room with three beds. Emily offered to share her bed with y/n but y/n said that she was alright being with Hotch in the room with two beds. If it meant having her own bed she would be fine.

Aaron overheard y/n and Prentiss’s conversation, and he felt a tug in his chest. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was because y/n seemed so okay with sharing a room with him, or the fact that he was even thinking about it. Hotch had noticed his feelings change toward y/n in the last few months. He wasn’t sure what was pulling him to her, but in some tiny way, things seemed to have shifted in the air for them. And Aaron knew that it wasn’t just him that felt the change. y/n had started to adapt around him. Doing things for him she didn’t need to but that he wanted. He had started reciprocating the gestures and it just kind of clicked in place. Hotch hadn’t given this much thought yet. There hadn’t been time, and he wanted to wait before he did anything more. The fact that he was thinking this now felt like he was breaking some kind of supervisory rule. Even if y/n seemed completely fine with sharing a room with him, he wanted to check in personally. As the rest of the groups moved down the stairs with their suitcases, Hotch stepped toward her. 

When Aaron was next to her, he looked down into her eyes and said, “y/n, you don’t have to share a room with me. I can make another arraignment or sleep on one of the couches in here if you prefer.” y/n appreciated the gesture, and she looked over what appeared to be the most old, decrepit, and uncomfortable couches she had seen in her life. Not only would Hotch’s sleep be compromised, but he honestly might be unsafe here given that the rec room was open 24/7. With the killings happening, she would never risk him like that. Even if she was uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in the same room as her boss, she still wouldn’t make him sleep in a space like this. Although y/n didn’t find the idea of sleeping in the same room as Hotch uncomfortable, she did find it a bit awkward. Over the past few months, she had had some less-than-professional thoughts about her Unit Chief. None of them had strayed into the lewd, lurid, or vulgar, but even so, being that close to Aaron made her insides flutter slightly.

She told the butterflies just trying to take flight for the first time to slow down. For now, she was just thinking about this situation by internally telling herself, ‘It’s just Hotch.’ y/n didn’t mean this in a demeaning way. Many of her close relationships or intimate moments with men were marred by pain or betrayal. So for her to simply and honestly say, ‘It’s just Hotch,’ meant a great deal. “Alright, but if at any time you feel like you need space during the night, just tell me and I’ll give it to you.” y/n smiled and nodded, saying, “I will, Hotch. Now, maybe we should put our stuff away so we can get to work?” Aaron nodded in agreement and he stood more straight. The pair grabbed the last room key and their cases. The duo moved down the stairs and to the end of the hallway where their room was. 

Hotch pulled the door’s key from his pants pocket and fitted it into the lock. There was the pleasant sound of the bolt clicking back. Aaron took the metal handle in his large hand. The door swung outward, and he froze momentarily as he looked into the room. y/n noticed his shift in demeanor and softly asked, “What is it?” She pressed closer to him, and she realized why he had reacted as he had. The room they were supposed to share only had one bed and from the size of it, there was no space for another mattress. Aaron muttered something she couldn’t hear under his breath before he more loudly articulated, “There must be a mistake. I’ll talk to Obermann. Or we can talk to someone on the team. Emily will still let you sleep with her. I’m sure of it.”

While he said this, two thoughts were happening simultaneously in y/n’s head. The first was that her work phone had vibrated in her pocket about ten times since she and Hotch had been trying to negotiate about the room. y/n took a moment to look through her messages. It seemed the other team members were ready to start building the profile for the unsub and were waiting for her and Hotch. This meant she had little time to think about the second thought running through her head like a fire. Imagining sleeping in the same bed as Aaron, even momentarily pulled a light flush to her face. She pushed the latter thought back for later and said, “Hotch, we can figure it out later. I think the team is waiting for us in the rec room. Em said there’s coffee. Let’s just put our cases inside and you and I can figure this out later.”

Aaron turned to y/n with a furrowed brow. For a second he could see the flush on her skin but moved to look away not ready to acknowledge that fact yet. Though he wanted to rectify this situation immediately, y/n was right. He gave a small sigh and said, “You’re right. We can figure it out later." With that Aaron and y/n moved into the small space. Hotch pushed his suitcase under the small space of the bed while y/n placed her smaller case in the only open storage area the room had. When this was done, they both left the room; Aaron switched off the light and locked the door behind him. As they made their way back up to the first floor, Aaron sighed. This wasn’t particularly Obermann’s fault, but it was a unique situation for sure. One that he would resolve to make sure y/n was comfortable. For some reason when he saw her in pain or discomfort, it really ate at him. This had only happened twice, but those were two times he did not want to repeat. And he certainly wasn’t going to be the cause of her discomfort. 

The pair moved back to the team and settled into the open spots at one of the tables in the rec room. The darkness outside the windows of the rec room seemed to try and penetrate through and around the lights on the rig, and the howl of the wind crashed with the waves as the team worked late into the night. They bounced ideas off each other and looked at the first three spots where the victims had been found. By 2:40 a.m. the team had a basic profile down. They assumed the unsub was around forty to fifty-five years old, which eliminated a little less than half of the twenty-five workers. They also assumed the man was important and potentially used violence as a substitute for sex and a form of release. y/n kept the idea of cabin fever in the back of her head and suggested acts of hysteria or depression for the profile. She clarified, “We wouldn’t see that behavior here, but while this unsub is not on the rig I think bouts of anger and depression might be a pattern. He might have even lost jobs because of this before.” Rossi agreed and said, “We can ask Mr. Obermann about people with those traits tomorrow morning. We also know the attacks happen at night when most of the crew are asleep and only the night shift workers are awake.”

Derek tacked on, “And they happen where there aren’t cameras or the lighting is too dark to see clearly. It’s often near the machinery to drown out any screaming.” Now that the preliminary profile was created, it would give the team a better chance to look over all the workers tomorrow who they were meeting in the morning. They had only met two men officially that night and it was the two security guards. One was a younger man in his thirties named Joe, and the other was in his fifties named Pete. The team had met the two while they changed shifts. Both men had introduced themselves and told the members of the BAU to call them at any time if they needed help. Derek and Aaron both clocked that neither man carried a gun, but did have retractable nightsticks in their belts. 

By this point, it was nearly three, and many members of the team decided to call it a night. They needed to wake up at five a.m. to meet the oil workers before their shift started at 6:00 a.m. It was only Rossi, Garcia, Aaron, and y/n left awake. y/n could feel the weight of her exhaustion pulling at her. Her mind was foggy and looking at the files actually hurt her eyes. The lights on the rig at night were a bit dimmed and she longed to get to sleep. She pushed away from the table and Garcia looked up and asked, “Are you going to bed, darling?” y/n nodded. At hearing this, Aaron looked over to her and she approached him.

Mr. Obermann had retired hours ago and y/n was sure Emily was out like a light by now. She could see Hotch eyeing the couches again and she just barely touched his shoulder. He looked over to her and she nodded her head toward his phone, which pinged once. Aaron picked up the device and swiped up on _y/n_’s text message. He quickly read it over. The message read: “Hotch. I guarantee that sleeping in the same room, even the same bed as you doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It may be unorthodox by FBI standards, but I’m tired and I don’t to wake JJ or Emily. Please don’t sleep on those couches or stay up all night to try and make tonight better for me. You need rest too. If sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the couch, just wake me up and let me know.” Hotch turned back to y/n and could see that she was being honest, about all of it. That she wasn’t uncomfortable, and that she would take the couch if he wanted to be alone. Again he had that feeling that he was being cared for by y/n. And even though he felt uncertain for some unknown reason, he couldn’t deny he’d rather be on a bed than the couches. Finally, he gave her a small nod letting her know that he would be down at the room later. Silently, y/n mouthed, “Night Aaron.” With that, she slipped into the corridor and out of sight. Garcia had observed whatever that odd interaction was between her two friends and she was sure something was happening. What that was, she couldn’t say yet, but with her snooping and pleading skills, she hoped to find out soon enough. 

After another hour, Aaron was the only one still up. He was stalling and he knew it. With a sigh, Hotch put his loose papers in his file. He picked up the manila folder and moved downstairs. The grimy, dim hall lights flickered and the shadows seemed to move as Hotch walked down the small corridor. Hotch stopped outside the showers and considered taking one. Again he was stalling. He didn’t need a shower, he needed sleep. He passed the showers and tried to unlock the door as quietly as he could. It was dark in the room and he felt around the dark space for the edge of the bed. y/n’s slow breathing filled the room along with the sound of the wave slapping the sides of the rig.

Aaron knelt down and tried to quietly remove his suitcase from under the bed. He stopped once it was out and listened. From her breathing, it seemed that y/n was still asleep. He unzipped the case and at this point, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He found his grey sweatpants and a sleeping shirt. He couldn’t tell what color it was in the dark but it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Once he had the articles of clothing, he pushed his suitcase back under the bed. Once he was standing again, he considered moving back to the showers to change.

However, opening the door and letting in the light from the hall might wake y/n. He looked over at his agent who was turned away from him facing the wall. She was obviously asleep, and he decided to just quickly change in the room. He placed his pajamas on the empty side of the twin bed. He faced the other direction and quietly undid the buckle of his belt. He slipped it out of his belt loops and when it was free, he silently placed the leather on the bed. With a fast intentional movement, he undid the button and zipper of his pants. He slipped off the fabric and when his legs were free, he grabbed his sweats and slipped them on. Somehow Aaron felt that it would be alright if y/n saw him in his undershirt or even bare-chested, but something about her seeing his legs or worse his groin -- even if it was covered with briefs was too embarrassing to think about. 

A tiny voice in his head said mockingly, “And you just thought ‘you weren’t trying to impress someone?’” Hotch grit his teeth, removed his shirt and undershirt, and put on the soft cotton of his sleeping shirt. Aaron folded the clothes that he had put on the bed and set them on top of y/n’s case. He would hang them up tomorrow. He slowly sat down on the edge of the mattress and it dipped slightly with his weight. Very slowly he moved his legs onto the bed and it was just long enough to fit his tall frame. He lay on his back. For his sake and y/n’s he decided to sleep on top of the covers, while y/n stayed bundled beneath them. This would at least give them a layer of separation between them. Aaron wasn’t sure if it was his stirring or even his body heat, but y/n seemed to momentarily wake, and in a sleep-heavy voice asked, “Hotch.” It was hard to tell if she was still asleep or not, but he softly replied, “It’s me.” This answer seemed to soothe her and y/n quickly fell back asleep. The exhaustion Aaron felt nearly made him fall asleep before he turned on his side to face the opposite direction from _y/n_. For once, he was grateful that he was so tired that his mind couldn’t wander to places he shouldn't let it. 

An hour or so later Aaron woke when y/n made a small sound in her sleep. It was like a little hum or maybe the softest “yes” he had heard in his life. As he came to a more conscious state he realized that he was warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep. In his sleep, he had managed to get under the covers and he was nestled next to y/n. His right arm was around her waist and his face was pressed into the soft smooth skin of her neck. Hotch stilled his body. Apart from the fact that being pressed close to y/n felt good, he realized that he needed to move slowly or he might wake her while he disentangled his body from hers. Hotch pulled his face back first, and in his tired mind, he thought about how he missed y/n’s crisp scent. Next, he removed his arm from her waist. y/n made another noise at this retraction but still didn’t wake. Aaron thanked the gods for apparently making y/n a deep sleeper. Finally, Aaron rolled onto his back and then to his original position facing the other wall. He was too drained to try and get out and above the covers again, and anyway, the warmth from both the blankets and y/n who was only an inch or so away from him felt good, and he fell back into unconsciousness after a few minutes. 

In the morning, neither Aaron nor y/n had the time to reflect that they had ended up in each other's arms again during the night because they were jolted awake by the sound of someone screaming. y/n said, “It’s Garcia.” Both Aaron and y/n quickly put on their shoes and grabbed their guns in case there was any danger. Aaron moved out the door first and y/n followed closely after. The sound had come from the nearby showers. Mr. Obermann had set up for the showers to be open from six to seven a.m. each morning for the BAU women to shower safely and with the guarantee that a man wouldn’t interrupt them. This was something JJ had set up on the flight over to Alaska. JJ had ensured that the same was promised for the men on the team, but their hours were in the evening.

As Aaron and y/n arrived outside the showers, Morgan was gently guiding Penelope from outside. The technical analyst was sobbing and Derek sort of passed her over to y/n who put her gun away. Morgan firmly said, “Get her away from here, y/n. We have a new victim.” y/n nodded and she tried to comfort Garcia as they moved away from the new scene. Hotch slipped past them and at his point the whole team assembled. Rossi was acting as a guard against the workers who wondered what was going on, and if someone had been killed. As y/n passed JJ, she asked the media liaison to come with her and Garcia to provide another more comforting presence for Penelope. JJ nodded and they moved back to the women’s room. 

It was a hectic three hours at the start of the morning as a coroner and the local authorities were called. The oil workers became increasingly restless with all of the authorities and the BAU around. To the men, so far these newcomers hadn’t done anything to protect them yet. Once Penelope had calmed, y/n sat on Emily’s bed and thought to the morning. To Hotch in his sneakers and grey sweatpants and dark blue shirt with his gun drawn. To Rossi in a dressing gown and undershirt, and Morgan in a tank and sweats. In fact, they had all been in sleeping clothes except for Spencer.

y/n expected that the young genius had stayed up all night. The sight of all of them with guns in such casual clothing would have been funny if it was in a dream or something. But this wasn’t a dream. They were isolated in the middle of nowhere. So far away from civilization that it took an hour for the coroner to arrive. y/n thought back to her isolation theory. She looked forward to speaking with Obermann when she got the chance to see what he had to say. She could also get JJ to look over the personnel files with her for clues as well. After Emily dropped off a soda for Garcia, y/n asked Garcia if she could describe what had happened in the morning and any clues she might have seen or observed. y/n had her pen and pad ready when her friend began to speak. Finally, the police left, the coroner took the body, and the team changed into their professional clothes and assembled in the rec space. Obermann and all the workers minus the fourth victim were assembled. 

Obermann spoke first and said, “Alright, new rule. Teams of three only. No one moves alone, even to piss. No teams of two, teams of three. I’ve called corporate and am waiting for a response. If they tell us to leave today, we will. But until then we can still do our jobs. And if you can’t tell me. Before we get to today’s work, I’ll have Agent Hotchner speak to you. Listen to him and his team without any grumbling or complaints unless you want to be written up.”With that, Oberman stepped aside for Aaron. Hotch tried to make this quick. He could tell the men in front of him were angsty. He cleared his throat and said, “As Mr. Obermann said, I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner. I work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis  Unit. I and my team are here to find the person who is making this an even more dangerous place to work. I am sincerely sorry for your loss this morning. I and my team standing beside me will do everything we can to try and not allow something like that to happen again while we are here. If any of you see something off or suspicious, don’t hesitate to tell me, our Media Liaison, or anyone on the team. I promise we won’t get in your way. For now, that’s all.”

Aaron stepped back and motioned for the team to move further back into the room as Obermann started giving the instructions for the day's labor. Aaron had cut out a lot of the formalities, his title, and the science behind the team's work. It wasn’t needed now. He had been speaking to hardened working men, not cops, and sounding fancy or professional wouldn’t make their opinions of him or the team any higher. As Obermann gave orders, Aaron similarly divvied up tasks for the team. Garcia, who had much recovered from her shocking morning would continue looking at the terror element and online leads. He and Morgan would look at the crime scenes. Rossi volunteered to watch the men at work and see if he saw anything that fit the profile. JJ, y/n, and Emily volunteered to look at the files of the employees again, as well as rewatch any relevant footage, and Spencer would work on a geographic profile if that was even possible in a space this small. Hotch, like Obermann, told his team that he wanted them in pairs. The events of the morning were a clear reminder that there was significant danger for everyone on the rig. 

The team worked tirelessly through the day. They all even missed breakfast and lunch. They reconvened at mid-day and shared what they had. Rossi had suspicions about two men, Baker and Price. Em, JJ, and y/n had thoughts about three men: Slainfield, Parkins, and Jotenson. y/n also had a bad feeling about Pete. However, Pete was standing by them so she didn’t say anything to the whole team. But once the man was gone, she approached Aaron. He was leaning over his and Rossi’s notes on the table, but he acknowledged her presence by turning his head to her for a moment. y/n said, “I think that there’s something off about Pete. He seems to match the profile well and…” She paused momentarily and Hotch looked at her closely, saying, “And?” y/n swallowed and said, “Maybe this is silly but he gives me a bad feeling.” Hotch nodded and said, “It’s not silly. We’ll keep an eye on him.” 

The team worked through the afternoon and into the evening. Every now and then they would update the group as they discovered new things. Morgan and Hotch had looked at the crime scene and the pictures of the victim. It was clear that this murder was faster and more reckless. It had happened in a more public place unlike the last three and there was less bruising which meant the death had been rushed. Hotch and Rossi made two hypotheses: one was that the killer was trying to show dominance to the team. To demonstrate that he could kill even with them watching. The second was that he was getting sloppy. He might be trying to show strength, but it was evident in the victim’s body that he was slipping. In the evening the team met for dinner with the rest of the workers.

The BAU members all sat together at a table on the far side of the room. Clear cliques could be seen in the oil men as the group sat and chattered softly. None of the men looked at the team and they clearly didn’t want to be overheard. It was clear that the team's presence and the fact that a killer was among them was altering their behavior. As y/n looked over the group and then to her friends it all suddenly felt like high school. And in a moment that felt like a bad teen romance, y/n thought of the morning, before Garcia had shifted the course of events for the day with her discovery. y/n had woken early. She wanted a shower even if she didn’t really need it. She had not expected to wake up warm and cozily tucked in Aaron’s arms with his face pressed into her hair. The comfort she found in his embrace knocked the senses out of her for a moment before she realized he was her boss and any feeling that might or might not been growing in her would be rejected. Not that she’d ever have the nerve to say or do anything. She liked her job too much to do something stupid. She liked Aaron too. As a colleague and friend, she wouldn’t want to make things awkward between them.

y/n came back to herself and wondered how she could navigate out of the small bed and his warm, strong arms to get to the showers. Just then Penelope had screamed and saved her from having to think about it. y/n snapped back to reality as Emily said something to her. y/n looked over at Prentiss and said, “Sorry, come again?” As she picked up her pizza for another bite. 

To call the food good would be hyperbole, but the team was so famished the cafeteria-grade food tasted amazing. The workmen moved to finish their tasks for the night before turning in. The team continued working for an hour or so before many members also turned in for the night. Perhaps it was the cramped space or the fact that the daylight faded quickly leaving the rig in darkness much of the time, or just the sounds of the waves that made them all a little more sleepy than usual.

Emily, Garcia, y/n, and JJ were one of the groups to turn in early. _y/n_ could tell that Garcia was going to start asking her questions about what the night with Aaron had been like. To avoid having that personal conversation right now, y/n faked a yawn to indicate that she was really sleepy, which she was. Her strategy worked and Garcia, who was actively going to ask y/n about her night yesterday stopped herself realizing that her friend was tired. Each of the women moved to their rooms and got ready for bed. When the lights were off and y/n was under the blanket and her breathing was the only sound in the room, she thought she heard a creaking from the corner of the small space. y/n sat up, but there was obviously no one there. She lay back down and pulled the covers over her head like a little girl. The place unnerved her. It was like an isolated haunted British mansion with a vengeful ghost roaming the corridors. Except this ghost was real and would do more than scare you to death. y/n let out a sigh at her silly thoughts. She cleared her head and actually focused on getting some rest. 

Aaron was not the last one up this time. That honor went to Derek who was chatting with Garcia about something technical that he wasn’t sure he fully understood. Hotch stood and excused himself. Aaron was smarter the second night, and he had set out a clean pair of pajamas and his toiletries for his shower night. Aaron grabbed the items and moved back to the shower room. Hotch stripped and moved into one of the communal showers. He pulled the frosted plastic curtain back for privacy. He turned on the water and flinched as the ice-cold water hit his skin. It took a moment before the warm water replaced the frigid.

When the hot water did come, he let out a little sigh. He didn’t know where it had come from. He assumed it was from being so tired. From the real and present danger his team was in, and also that there had been a dead body in this very space many hours earlier. As he reflected, he thought, ‘These cases certainly make strange bedfellows of places.’ And it was true. Where hadn’t he seen a crime? Churches, dressing rooms, parks, campgrounds, strip clubs, showers, houses, houses, houses… Aaron tried to not focus on the morbidity of his job. He was actually thinking about the ‘bedfellows’ part of his thought. Because this case was making him have a strange bedfellow in y/n.

In what world would something like this happen? In what twisted world was he so comfortable with it happening? He thought back to when he woke up holding y/n. Now Aaron actually stopped himself from groaning. ‘You’re tired,’ Aaron reassured himself. He more quickly worked through his routine of thoroughly cleaning his skin and washing his hair. After drying off with a towel and changing. He moved back into the room and settled into the bed. As he lay down, he looked at the metal ceiling painted an unimaginative hospital beige. He silently said, ‘You won’t hold y/n tonight.’ He repeated it a few times. It was a technique he used with Jack when he had bad dreams. Aaron told his son that if you say something while you’re awake, like, “I won’t have a nightmare tonight,” that it will happen in your sleep too. Hotch softly chuckled at the fact that he was using a comforting technique for his son on himself. As his thoughts shifted to Jack, he slipped into sleep. 

It was the middle of the night, Aaron woke when he felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and a heavy weight seemed to press down on him. He shifted up and looked at y/n. He was surprised when he saw her eyes wide open apparently looking at the foot of the bed. He could tell something was off. Her body was stiff like a board. Aaron tried to get her to relax by gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name, but this had no response. Hotch swallowed and placed his fingers over her pulse. It was a bit elevated, but he could see her breathing normally. Her condition scared him, and he called her name again. After a moment y/n’s eyes shifted from the edge of the bed and up to the ceiling. Aaron knew there was nothing there, but he looked up at the flat surface anyway.

He tried shaking her again. He was wondering if she was having a stroke, but the odd symptoms didn’t look like those of a stroke, and y/n was far too young and healthy to have a stroke. He would have seen it in her medical history and not let her on the team. For another agonizing minute, y/n lay still. y/n seemed to snap out of whatever this episode was. She quite literally collapsed into the mattress, and she took large unsteady breaths like she was panicking or had been unable to breathe over the last few minutes. Aaron’s voice was filled with concern and worry, as he brushed his hand over her arm and said, y/n. What was that?”

In a strained voice, y/n said, “Lights. Give me a minute.” Hotch nodded, and he felt relieved hearing her voice, even if it did sound distressed. He leaned over to his side of the wall and flipped the light switch on. The low-level fluorescent glow of the overhead made Hotch blink a few times. When his eyes had adjusted, he watched y/n. Her eyes were closed and she was clearly doing some breathing techniques to calm herself and her nervous system down. Aaron’s hand briefly ghosted over her upright palm. For a moment he wanted the take it in his own hand, but he stopped himself. He grabbed at the sheets of the bed and made a fist with the fabric instead. After a few minutes, _y/n_ sat up. One of her legs was bent to her chest, and she placed her forehead in her right hand. Aaron cleared his throat and as if she just now remembered he was there, she turned her head to look at him with her forehead still in her hand. She looked so scared. Her eyes shone with it. After a final beat of silence, y/n said, “Do you know what sleep paralysis is?” Her voice was slightly hoarse, lower than its normal register. Hotch thought about what he knew about the condition. He’d heard of it before, but never experienced it himself. Softly, he replied, “I have. Though I don’t know a lot about it.” y/n nodded and then said, “Well now you’ve seen it.” Seeing y/n like this pulled at his insides, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He moved his hand to the small of her back to provide some comfort. 

y/n seemed to settle with his touch, and she took her head out of her hand. Aaron wanted, needed some answers. So as kindly as he could, he asked, “What is that like exactly? You were so stiff for about three minutes.” y/n’s brow pinched for a moment and she replied, “It’s like locked-in syndrome a bit. You’re aware, awake but there's no moving or being able to snap out of it. You’re trapped until the episode is over. People see, hear, or feel things. One or all of those things can happen.” Hotch’s mind went back to while the episode was happening. She had clearly been looking at something at the foot of the bed and then at the ceiling. He asked, “Do you see things?”

y/n nodded and said, “Yeah.” Aaron could see the discomfort as she thought about it. Aaron wasn’t going to press, but he did wonder what she had seen. His unspoken question was answered by y/n, who said, “For me, I… I see a man. He’s large and cloaked in a kind of shadow. Like his body is there but not there. He smiles at me but other than his mouth there’s no face.” y/n swallowed thickly and said, “Normally he’s at the foot of my bed, but sometimes he’s near my face. Tonight he crawled up the wall and looked down at me from the ceiling.” While she spoke about the figure, her voice hitched and Aaron noticed the small sob she was trying to hide. Her description of sleep paralysis sounded horrible. His bouts of insomnia felt like nothing compared to what she described. It was an actual living nightmare. Hotch took a breath and started running a gentle circle on her back with his thumb. He wanted to know more. Like how often does this happen? Or if there’s something that causes these events. But right now he was more concerned about making sure y/n was comfortable and felt safe. 

Aaron removed his hand from her back, and this made her look at him more intently. He first acknowledged how frightening that sounded, and he said, “I’m sorry you’ve gone through this. It sounds, scary. Is there anything you do that helps you calm down? Is there anything I can do to help? I could grab you a coffee, or give you space if you need.” y/n gave Hotch one of those small half smiles that she flashed him when he was doing something for her that he didn’t need to exactly. She replied, with a more stable voice, “I, um actually think that coffee might make it worse. Trying to stay up and outlast the feelings doesn’t normally help with anything. But maybe some water would be nice.” Hotch nodded and turned toward the small nightstand on his side of the bed. He grabbed the water bottle that he had taken from dinner. He had only taken a sip or two, and he offered it over to y/n saying, “Is this okay? I just had a sip, but I can get you a new one if you prefer.”

y/n chuckled lightly as she unscrewed the cap and took a drink. She really wasn’t worried about germs from Aaron. After a few sips, she put the cap back on and Aaron placed it back on the table. Aaron then asked, “Is there anything else?” y/n continued looking at him and said, “Normally I just grab a weighted blanket and and try and get back to sleep and pray it doesn’t happen again.” The idea that something like this would happen more than once in a night was abhorrent to Hotch. He looked around the room for anything that might act like a weighted blanket even though there wasn’t anything of the kind around. Aaron’s brain came up with an idea and his mouth voiced the thought before he could stop himself. He said, “Maybe I can hold you? It’s not a weighted blanket, but maybe it could help?” There was a silence after the offer was out there. Both Aaron and y/n were a bit surprised. Aaron bit the inside of his mouth at what he had said. He feared that he had crossed a line, and y/n looked at him like she was surprised that he had offered. However, much to Hotch’s relief, she said, “I’d like that, actually.” Aaron nodded and softly replied, “Okay. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” y/n nodded and laid back on the mattress. 

Aaron switched off the light and lay flush with the mattress as well. He wasn’t exactly sure how to start what he had offered without it being awkward or uncomfortable. So he started by just taking y/n’s hand in the darkness. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and she let out a breath at his touch. His hand trailed up her arm to her bicep where he ran his pointer and middle fingers up and down the area gently. He wanted to ensure that she was okay with this. After a minute of this, y/n softly said, “Aaron, please.” Maybe it was the way he said his first name or the fact that he wanted to provide the comfort that gave him the courage to move his body close to hers. He placed a hand on her hip and asked, “Do you want to face my chest or face the wall?” Her comfort was most important to him. _y/n_ thought for a moment and said, “I’d like the face the wall.” Aaron hummed and positioned himself so his chest was against her back as she turned on her side. With his left arm, he wrapped his arm over her. It rested on her waistline. He didn’t add any pressure, but let the weight of his arm rest on the side of her body. y/n could feel that he was tense; he might even be flexing. She didn’t mention this and after a few minutes, he relaxed like her. When he did this she could fully feel him pressed against her. The soft area of this stomach pressed against her lower back. Before she fell asleep she said, “Thanks Hotch.” With that, she slipped into oblivion. 

In the morning it wasn’t odd as they got up. Aaron checked in to see how she was, and y/n said, “I’m alright. I rested pretty well thanks to you. I really appreciate it, Hotch.” Aaron nodded and more nonchalantly than he really felt he said, “I’m just happy that I could help.” y/n moved to grab her towel, her work clothes, and her toiletries bag. She stepped into the shower and told JJ good morning. The media liaison was humming some county song behind her privacy curtain and told _y/n_ “Good morning,” as well. _y/n_ and JJ moved to the rec room together. The rest of the team was grabbing breakfast. As soon as Garcia saw _y/n_, she knew something had happened the previous night. The technical analyst and Emily approached y/n, and Penelope asked her, “Baby, did something happen? You don’t look well.” y/n shook her head and quietly told her friends, “I had another episode last night. It was a lot worse than the recent ones.” Garcia looked at y/n sympathetically and pulled her into a hug saying, “I’m so sorry, y/n. It’s gotta be this place. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies too.”

Aaron watched on as Em, Garcia, and y/n had a quiet conversation near the serving table. He could just hear some of their conversation, and for a moment, he felt left out because y/n hadn’t told him about her sleep paralysis but had clearly let Penelope and Prentiss in on the secret. Aaron realized that immediately that was stupid because the conversation about her sleeping habits didn’t normally just pop up around him. What would she possibly say, “Oh yeah, every now and then a literal sleep demon shows up by my bed, and he doesn’t have a face. Also, I can’t move when it happens. And it could happen anytime I sleep.” Aaron chastised himself and stabbed another bite of eggs onto his fork. At least now he knew about one of the challenges that seemed to haunt y/n outside the job, and he now would do what he could to make her life easier while they were on cases. 

The day moved quickly as some leads dropped cold and the pressure was on to get results. There hadn’t been a new attack which indicated that either the unsub was getting scared, or the fact that the team and the workmen being in teams of two and three had stopped them from being able to act. If the pattern of the last two killings heald, the unsub was likely to attack again today. During the afternoon, Spencer and y/n were discussing her theory and the idea that the unsub was impotent. Spencer said, “What if he’s not important at all, but has a pain fetish or something?” y/n looked at Spencer with apprehension, and she replied, “But the impotence matches with the profile. The bat or blunt object is clearly a replacement for the phallus. If the unsub has a pain fetish I think he would take much more time with the victim. Granted in a place like this, there can’t be a lot of time spent on each victim. I’m not sure, now it feels off.” Spencer leaned against the wall and said, “Let’s re-examine that part of the profile in a bit. I have some thoughts about your cabin fever theory.” y/n gave the genius a small smile and said, “Shot. I’m all ears.” What both agents were missing about the first subject of discussion was that it was possible that more than one person was influencing the way the victims were being killed. 

It was late, again and Em and y/n were calling it a night. y/n had tried to get to bed before Hotch while they shared the bed. She hoped that if she was asleep when he got back, he would be more comfortable because they wouldn’t have to have any potential awkward ‘good nights’ or shifting around in the bed to try and get comfortable. y/n for one, took what felt like half an hour to find a comfy position and actually get to sleep. The hallway to their room was cloaked in oddly long shadows. For a second Emily thought she heard a dripping sound and looked around for the source of the noise, but she couldn’t see anything from the darkened hall. Emily looked over to y/n and said, “I don’t know about you, but I want to get the fuck off this rig.” y/n nodded in agreement and said, “That gets an Amen from me.” As Prentiss approached her door, she fished for her keys and muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. _y/n_ looked over to Emily and asked, “What is it?” Emily said, “I left my keys on the table.” y/n looked at her friend and then at her own door. It was only ten or so feet away and Em said, “You go to bed. I’ll be fine by myself getting my keys. JJ was planning on heading to bed soon too, so I’ll just walk back with her.” y/n said, “You’re sure?” Prentiss nodded and both women headed their separate ways. Emily moved with determination, wanting to get to bed as quickly as possible. 

y/n moved down the hallway and passed the showers. Once she was past the site of the latest victim, a figure emerged from the entrance behind her. y/n wasn’t aware of the man’s presence until he spoke, saying, “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be walking alone.” y/n whipped around and saw the security guard, Joe. y/n suddenly felt a dread build in her stomach, and Joe stepped toward her saying, “Let me walk you to your room at least.” Just as y/n was about to say something, the man lunged at her. His strong hands found their grip on her neck and she choked as he restricted her airway and pushed her harshly against the metal wall. y/n tried to fight the unsub, but her lack of air was making it hard. In an act of desperation, she used her right hand to find the man’s groin and she took his manhood in her hand squeezing the area tightly. Joe removed his hands from her body and said, “Bitch,” as he moved back covering his groin with his hands.

y/n tried to catch her breath. She pulled for the gun in her holster with shaking fingers, but Joe was quicker with his nightstick. As he extended the weapon it gave a little swishing sound. Before y/n could fully protect her face with her hands the nightstick made painful contact on the side of her head. y/n reeled, and she saw stars for a second. y/n tried to stay upright, but the pain and confusion had her collapse against the wall. As she crumpled, she could hear Joe say, “How fucking dare you say I’m impotent. You’re going to regret that comment you little bitch.” y/n closed her eyes as she saw the man’s hand holding the weapon raise and lower with considerable force. 

Hotch moved down the hallway and stairs that led to the first level of the rig. He was in desperate need of a shower and a distraction. The day had been rough on him. He had had to speak to Obermann about the men suddenly acting different, even with hostility toward the team. They were obviously all on edge, but that didn’t give them a right to badmouth his team. He had also had a very choppy call with Strauss and Mr. Ridgewell. Both were disappointed that he hadn’t found anything yet. Aaron had to explain to Ridgewell specifically how unique a case this was. Aaron wondered why Erin hadn’t told the Commissioner this information before. Was his boss angry with him as well? Making him do this sort of soft groveling as a sort of punishment? To prove that he and the team were valuable?

Aaron had also had a long conversation with Garcia about more messages that had been shared from the alleged foreign agents. Hotch was beginning to think that this part of the case was all a ruse by the unsub to distract the team’s time and energy. As Hotch got lower on the stairs, he heard a snapping sound and the small moan of pain that came after a particularly loud cracking sound had his hand on his gun in an instant. Aaron quietly moved down the final steps and he saw the younger security guard leaning over a prone figure that he recognized as y/n. Aaron authoritatively said, “I have a gun pointed at the back of your skull. Unless you want your brains decorating these walls, I’d put your hands behind your head and slowly stand.”

Unfortunately for Aaron, Joe had heard Hotch’s footsteps and had grabbed his knife, which he kept hidden in his back pocket, and pressed it close to y/n’s neck. Joe called back, “I wouldn’t if I were you, Agent Hotchner. I have my knife pressed to your agent's neck. So unless you want her bleeding out from her carotid artery, I’d put down your gun, and kick it toward me.” Aaron clenched his jaw but replied, “Alright. I’m doing it now.” Hotch would never jeopardize a member of his team. The fact that he couldn’t see how hurt y/n was and the fact that she wasn’t moving almost made him sick. He slowly moved his center of gravity down and set his handgun on the cold smooth floor. Aaron pushed the weapon toward Joe. The unsub felt behind himself until his hands found the gun. Joe moved to face Aaron, dropped the knife, and grabbed his nightstick instead. Joe commanded Aaron to raise his hands and put them behind his head. Hotch did as told and when the unsub was a foot away from Aaron, Joe quickly raised his nightstick and hit Aaron on the side of the face. The blow wasn’t well aimed, and it didn’t have as much power as he had used with y/n, but it was still enough to incapacitate the FBI agent for a moment. As Hotch slumped against the wall, Joe pushed past him and ran to an external door at the end of the hallway.

After a second, Aaron came back to himself and he clicked on his open communication channel with the team and he said, “The unsub is Joe Pabst. He just attacked y/n. He exited the southwest door. The channel came to life as Aaron moved toward y/n on unsteady feet. He collapsed next to y/n and checked her breathing and pulse. It was clear that she was unconscious and battered, but her pulse seemed alright. She seemed to be struggling to breathe due to the trauma on her nose. Aaron couldn’t tell if it was broken or not, but the blood leaking from it and the bruising already there told him that it was hard for her to breathe through it. Thankfully Rossi and Garcia came to his side in a second. Rossi motioned that he would stay with y/n and at seeing this, Aaron got to his feet to pursue the unsub. He listened as Derek, Spencer, and Emily approached the man who had harmed y/n.

Outside on the slick side of the rig, Aaron fought the wind. He moved up to the top platform and saw Derek and Spencer in a stand-off with the unsub who was on the rigging of the derrick itself. A light shone out, highlighting the unsubs form standing high above the waves. Hotch lined up a shot with the second gun he wore on his left ankle. Just as he was preparing to fire an incapacitating shot, Joe moved to the edge of the small platform, and by some twist of fate, or a simple design flaw, the chain railing slipped from one of its posts, and because Joe was leaning his weight on the barrier, he flailed wildly before plummeting into the choppy sea below. Aaron called Morgan on the secure channel and said, “Go see if you can find Joe. I’ll wake Obermann and let him know what’s just happened.” Derek confirmed Hotch’s directions. As much as Aaron would like the unsub to drown, it was still his job to make sure monsters like Joe faced the full weight of justice if possible. 

A half-hour later Aaron was back by _y/n_’s side. Rossi had moved y/n to the rec room and the travel medical evacuation team was en route. y/n hadn’t woken yet and Aaron feared a bad concussion or worse, something like a brain bleed from the head trauma she had received. Aaron also couldn’t deny that he was feeling unwell. The lights were a bit bright for him, but he ignored his own pain to be seated next to y/n. When the helicopter came, Rossi insisted that Aaron ride with _y/n_ to the nearest hospital because he might also need medical care. Hotch acquiesced and boarded the helicopter with the paramedics and pilot. The sun was just rising above the horizon line as the chopper moved up and over where the Alaskan sea met the cold,  hard land. At the hospital Aaron reluctantly submitted himself to an exam, but he only had thoughts for y/n who was seen a few rooms down. 

When y/n woke a few hours later, her head pounded in pain. Even though she was hurting, she could sense that she was somewhere new. Her last memories were of Joe approaching her. As someone near her shifted, she opened her eyes and tried to see through the glare of her blurry vision. Aaron sat up as y/n stirred. His head was lightly bandaged to stop the bleeding from his temple. y/n struggled to say, “It was Joe.” Aaron nodded and said, “Yeah. Joe and Pete, but we can talk about that later. I’m going to call the doctor for you.” As Aaron waited for Dr. Ramirez to come and check in on y/n he looked her over again. Her face was deeply bruised. There were other sites of trauma on her body including a fractured wrist and some bruised ribs. The doctors assumed that she had a grade III concussion due to the fact that she had been unconscious for as long as she had.

Hotch could see the pain in her eyes, but even so, she said, “It’s nice to have someone I really like be beside my bad instead of shadow man.” y/n cringed slightly from the pain and how stupid ‘shadow man,’ sounded to her. She had never named her sleep paralysis demon. She refused to give it an identity. She looked at Aaron who was also a bit damaged. She wanted him to hold her again, but due to the fact that they were in a hospital, and he was her boss, that seemed a bit implausable. So she extended her hand out to him. Aaron took it in both of his hands, and his calloused fingers moved gently over her knuckles and palm. Before she closed her eyes against the brightness of the room, she saw a ghost of a smile on Hotch’s face. It always showed up in the crow's feet by his eyes. 

A day and a half later, the team was headed back home. Joe’s body still hadn’t been found in the rough sea. It was possible that it may never be recovered. Aaron was fine with this. Pete, who had influenced Joe had been taken into custody and was awaiting a hearing. The doctors had recommended a three-day leave of absence for Aaron and a week-long recovery period for y/n for both of their healing. Aaron was going to insist on a longer break for y/n. And if he was medically forced from the office, that should give the team a bit of a reprieve as well.

As the team settled on the jet, Aaron found himself seated next to y/n. Discretely, his left hand found its place close to her thigh. The tips of his fingers softly touched y/n’s upper leg. y/n seemed to be asleep, and Aaron looked over her face which was bandaging on her nose, crown, and temple. At his touch, y/n shifted her body towards his in her sleep. The part of Aaron that was growing fonder and fonder for y/n contentedly filled his chest. He would have to do some self-reflection once he was home about these feelings. Once his hand was a bit more firmly planted on y/n’s leg, Hotch thought about how demons really were real. Either those who showed up unwanted in horrifying waking nightmares, or people like Joe, who had been influenced by the older, isolated, and impotent Pete, who had told his protege to enact violence for him. But as  Aaron looked over the dimmed jet cabin at his team --all of whom were asleep except for Garcia and Rossi. Aaron thought of them as his gaze returned to y/n. Yes, demons were real, but he was there to take care of them, whatever form they took. And that gave him the strength to keep going.

[red-pill-to-swallow]

Doing your part in a relationship

Hey babes,

it’s Monday – a new, fresh week and the ultimate opportunity to make some changes.

I don’t know why it feels so much better to start a new routine on a Monday than it does on a random Wednesday.

I took some time after I posted my last two posts and really thought about the relationship dynamic between my man and me.

I thought about changes that I would like to make and what could help us to become a better couple.

Honestly, I was pretty shocked after all my thinking because it turns out that my man is the rock in this relationship and I am not sure why he is still sticking around when he could probably do so much better.

But let me explain:

I gave up working in my full-time job around January 2023 and have been home ever since then.

My man was aware that I was totally burned out from my job and offered me that I could stay at home and take care of the household chores.

Previously we used to split the chores around the house roughly 50/50. It was very fair and in some weeks he did more than me and some weeks I did more than him, like it’s in every relationship.

I would say that I am fairly good at housekeeping. I know how to cook, how to clean and how to do laundry.

However – I never before was responsible for everything. From going grocery shopping and planning meals to cleaning the bathrooms every week – suddenly all of this was on me.

I struggle really bad with organizing myself, this was one of the reasons why I was so burned out from my previous job, and I started slacking.

I would do the laundry one day and take three days before I started folding it. My man literally had no underwear one time and flipped out because that’s obviously disgusting and instead of improving – I started to get mad at him.

It wasn’t only the laundry, it also began affecting my cooking – which I loved doing before – and I would start making only frozen meals or just serving cold meat cuts with bread.

We started fighting a lot more because my man was sad, that instead of relaxing at home he would need to help me with my chores – after a full workday.

I had my epiphany a few weeks ago (when I made this blog) and realized that my man has every right to be mad at me. He does his job. I am not.

So, let’s see – my man works really though hours. He leaves the house early in the morning and comes home in the early evening. He’s usually stressed because his job is very demanding and he is responsible for a lot of people.

Imagine coming home to your girlfriend, who’s staying at home, and almost nothing is done. The fridge isn’t restocked, the floor is dirty and there is no food. After your shower you realize that you have no fresh underwear because your girlfriend didn’t wash any.

I would flip out too.

My behavior was/is borderline disrespectful and I am honestly ashamed because of it. I would have broken up with me if I was him.

But here we are – still together and I don’t plan on dodging this second chance.

I think many girls that want the lifestyle of a spoiled girlfriend or a stay at home girlfriend don’t realize how hard it is to organize a whole household on your own.

Yes, there might be some men out there that are so rich that they don’t mind employing staff to help around the house, but I don’t think that this is achievable for a woman in her twenties without having various high value connections in the right circles. At least I don’t have those connections.

I am responsible for keeping the house clean, making food and going grocery shopping. That takes maybe 5 hours of my day and the rest of the time I can do whatever I want.

My man only wants to come home to a clean, organized house with a stocked fridge and possibly a hot meal on the stove.

Honestly – he is the one that is working his ass off every day, not me.

The worst is, that I even started to neglect my appearance. I used to shave every second day and that slowly progressed to only once a week. I used to color my hair religiously and worked out at least three times a week.

Now I haven’t touched up my hair in over three months, my roots are disgusting and I am very ashamed because of it. I mean, even though my man pays for my beauty appointments – I couldn’t get my ass up.

However, I cleaned our whole house today. From the bottom to the top. It’s spotless. I did laundry and went grocery shopping and I made a plan on how to maintain all of those things.

I won’t share the plan just yet because I want to make sure that I can actually follow it before I share it with you.

What should you take with you after reading this rant?

Be careful that you’re always a responsible partner. Don’t be like me. If you’re telling your partner that you plan on doing something – actually follow through and do it. Don’t disappoint them all the time.

Make sure that you acknowledge what they do for you and thank them for it every once in a while.

It is unattractive to be lazy and not being able to keep up with your standards. It’s unfair to your partner to let yourself go and they have every right to be upset about it.

Think before you speak and start an argument. Are you really right? Is it worth to start an argument about something that is your responsibility?

I mean, my man made it clear in the beginning: If I want to stay at home and live a cozy life – I have to take care of the house while he works and provides for us both.

He does his part of the agreement. Every single day.

I’ve only done my part of the agreement when I felt like it and that is not okay. But I am changing and I know that he has already forgiven me for all the hassle.

See you soon

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Evan Ross Katz (2024)

Whether he’s carrying Kylie Minogue to the Hyde Park Festival stage with his pal Andrew Scott, making the Internet go collectively feral for merely running a half marathon, chasing dinosaurs (in the upcoming Jurassic World reboot), romancing Matt Bomer (in Fellow Travelers) or Simone Ashley (in Bridgerton) or Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo (in Wicked) or, with his most recent venture, launching an LGBTQ+-focused charity, it seems Jonathan Bailey is always up to something. And yet, he still makes time, from his hotel room in Thailand (where he’s shooting Jurassic World 4), to hop on a Zoom with me to catch up.

We discuss everything from chafed nipples to queer shame to who he’d like to see in the “Drink Your Milk” T-shirt to if we’ll see him on Broadway any time soon, which is to say it’s a brief but wide-ranging chat.

I haven't seen you since the Met Gala! When we last spoke, you were prepping for your first half marathon. I obviously saw the viral photos that went around of you at the finish line, but how did it go?

You know, I should have put those nipple stickers on. That's my main takeaway. 

[Laughs] Did you bleed?

I did a bit, yeah. Did you? I know you've done a couple of marathons. 

I did bleed, and I didn't know about the bleeding beforehand. It's not something you really hear about but it's painful and uncomfortable.

Totally! And not even just beforehand: It took ‘til 4 hours later when my best friend told me there was evidence [of the bleeding]. But anyways… it was euphoric!

At least there was no photo evidence of that element!

Exactly! So thankfully, it's done. But it's just the most amazing thing, isn't it? And the community as well. Hackney Moves is amazing and they raised loads of money. It was the Bridgerton [Season 3 release] week so I feel like you could sort of harness that.

I do have to ask you a pressing question: Days ago, it was announced that Wicked had moved up its release date and will now be released the same day as Ridley Scott's Gladiator 2. Many online were affectionately calling this Barbenheimer 2.0, which led many to try and speculate about a proper portmanteau. Jon Chu wrote on Instagram that the consensus seems to be “Glicked,” which you reposted on Instagram, signaling a cosign. But I have to ask you, Johnny: Are you not considering“Wickediator”?

I love it. Whatever Jon Chu has ever said to me, I’ve taken as gospel, so I actually hadn't explored all the other options. The one that I've now heard since then which is making me reconsider everything is “Gladicked.” [Laughs] It's quite good, isn’t it? 

Yes! To me, “Glicked” feels too Wicked-skewed and then “Wickediator” is just clunky AF, so I like where you're at. 

We want it to be equal footing for sure. Another thing that I love that went viral is someone going: “Oh, brilliant. A film for the ladies and a film for the ladies.” [Laughs] 

I am both ladies! 

Oh, yes. Me too! 

Let’s talk The Shameless Fund, the charity you founded to raise money for LGBTQ+ nonprofit organizations. Can you tell me about the formation of this project?

It's been a labor of love over the last three or four years. It's been quite an organic experience, mainly inspired by Fellow Travelers, hence why I started with a collaboration which references a very specific scene and a performance by Matt Bomer.

I think through Covid and Bridgerton coming out, I found that there’s a real sense in the queer community about awareness of people who came before you and other experiences. And then obviously in Fellow Travelers, which explicitly explores that, the character I played was sort of on the front all the way through a very complicated experience for gay men at that time.

He experienced real moments of blooming liberation and quite insane amounts of oppression as well, and he was always fighting. He ends up becoming an activist, essentially, and I think it was in playing that part — which was kind of spiritual for me and for everyone who's involved in it — that I was like: Right, okay. I know that I've got this idea in my head and having experienced how much love there is for things like Bridgerton and how much money there is in collaboration, I felt that there's so many things I had said “no” to because it didn't feel quite right for me but if there was a world in which I could marry all of it in a creative sort of cocktail, then why not? And to give back to the community that I so love, and also, I'm a massive beneficiary of the work that the people that came before us did, so that's where it came to fruition from. 

You collaborated with our dear friend Jonathan Anderson, the creative director of Loewe, on a T-shirt with a memorable quote from Fellow Travelers to promote the launch of The Shameless Fund. How did this collaboration come to be?

During the strikes during the filming of Wicked, I went on a run one day and this idea of a T-shirt came into my head in full form. Then I sat next to Jonathan [at a Studio Voltaire fundraiser], and he’s lovely and brilliant and naughty and has a foundation, so it was all kind of organic.

Then I went over to DC to present Matt Bomer with an award for the Human Rights Campaign and it was really galvanizing to experience the American fervor. It was a gala, and the energy in the room was absolutely wild and there were amazing stories on stage. I texted Jonathan and I said: “Look, I have an idea and it involves milk and a T-shirt. What do you think?” and he said: “Call me tomorrow,” and then he said yes within the same phone call. I just felt tentative because it’s the sort of thing where you ask and you don't know, but then it went from there. 

I do recall first seeing a photo of you in the shirt several months ago during a night out with the Loewe team in China…

I went to the Loewe exhibition in Shanghai, which was incredible, and that night, we had quite a big night out and I wore the T-shirt because I’d been given the first prototype.

I was having a little boogie and [Anderson] uploaded it whilst I had no access to the Western World — my phone was off the whole time. So by the time I came home, you could see that people were gonna go wild for the T-shirt. Now, it's sold out and we're gonna get some more and it'll be a first step for The Shameless Fund to raise some money. 

Jonathan Anderson did my and my husband's wedding looks and I had to send him that same initial text to be like: “Can one even ask this?”

That's what's so brilliant in life: People who have the ability to collaborate, and that's just what Jonathan does.

One thing that you said just now that struck me is: “Why not?” I interview a lot of people in your profession and they're not asking that question all the time. A lot of people say:

“Oh, there's lots of money I can make. I can have more money. I can have more things for myself.”

Why are you a “why not?” person rather than a “why”? Is that something that was imbued in you by your family and your upbringing or is it how you've always been?

I don't know. I just feel quite strongly emotionally. I sense injustice in certain places, and I think what comes with success — especially being a gay actor — is that you think: “Hang on a minute. Are there limitations? Are there glass ceilings?”

When you experience success that you never thought you would and you grew up thinking that you're limited because of your identity and who you are, I think about the people that have supported me and the people that were really pioneering, but also, the actual heroes who do the real work; the people who work for these nonprofits and these charities where the majority of their energy is spent trying to raise money. When Bridgerton came out, I was inundated with requests to help draw attention to [these organizations] or raise money or donate things that they could sell, so that's where the kernel of this idea came from. All my life, I’ve been thinking about how I can give back.

It's not for nothing that you call this The Shameless Fund. We grew up at a time when, and I don't know if this is the same for you, but I didn't know that gay people existed. I thought I was the only one because I didn't have access to the kind of media kids do today where you can go on Instagram and see that gay is not only acceptable; it's cool. There's this very significant paradigm shift. I feel like a lot of gay men of our generation felt this shame as young people and often spend a lot of our adult lives working to rid ourselves of it. What is it for you about this idea of shame? 

I totally agree in terms of generations. I think the queer experience changes every five years. Even with some of my friends who are 10 years older than me — it's just so specific to cultural moments and representation as well, as you're saying. But I think my understanding of shame, especially having experienced Fellow Travelers, is that it permeates. It's not just a community that experiences the shame; it's the people around them. It's the parents who don't understand it and kick their kids out of their house. It's the sisters, it’s the cousins, it's the nephews, it's the children that are in broken families because of it. It's actually so toxic, that sense of self-hatred. That’s why The Shameless Fund is actually something that I hope is going to benefit everyone, even beyond the community itself.

Also, the older we get and because of the world we live in now, you can read The Velvet Rage and you can read Matthew Todd’s Straight Jacket and you can explore and have conversations with your friends that are really enlightening and you can have therapy, if you're lucky enough that you can afford to do that. As a 36-year-old now, I look back and I just go: “My God, I had such a loving family and yet I was still so isolated and so crippled.”

Shame can stop people from having a proper education and from being able to structure proper emotional relationships, like fundamental relationships with their family, which is the one place you're supposed to feel safe. It's flawed if the family is not aware of what you're going through. 

How did you come up with the name?

I did have other names [in mind for The Shameless Fund], but we won't go into them. One was so aggressive! [Laughs] But “The Shameless Fund” felt punk enough and fundamental enough. To me, I think that to be without shame is to be able to be joyful and to be able to thrive and to be able to learn and have a bloody good time whilst doing all those things, so it just felt right that it should be targeting shame because then hopefully it benefits the whole community in every color on the pride flag and, in turn, will also help so many people around them. 

So what can people expect next?

There's going to be some really fun things coming with The Shameless Fund and there's different ways in which it can grow, but I have people who really know what they're doing who are helping lead it. By the end of the year, we'll hopefully have worked with three different charities, starting small and helping people understand the work they're doing because that's the most important thing. If you think about Instagram, other than chatting with Evan Ross Katz [laughs], that's the platform through which you can really draw attention to things. Literally anyone in our community who's thriving at the moment — in a community that's obviously under threat going forward — knows what it's like to receive support. We know what we missed growing up.

I, too, grew up with an accepting family, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still feel ostracized. I appreciate you recognizing that nuance, one I think many of us experience in some form but don’t always discuss.

Now, on The Shameless Fund’s website, it does say that more collaborations are coming. As you said, there’s going to be a restock of the Loewe shirts, but are there other brands in the mix?

There are other brands, and it'll be really exciting because the scope is endless, but I definitely had a couple of other ideas. After Fellow Travelers, the next thing will be a Wicked garment, so you might have to keep your eyes out for that. Maybe jumpers and sexy boots?

That’s perfect for my fantasy! So we've seen Kylie Minogue wearing the shirt — who I was lucky enough to be introduced to by you on the dance floor at the Met Gala after-party, thanks again — and we've seen Kit Connor, Scarlett Johansson and your Bridgerton co-star Luke Newton sporting it as well. I'm wondering who else is on your wishlist of celebrities that you'd like to see in the Drink Your Milk T-shirt?

Oh, God. What a question! Great shout. I would love to see Jerrod Carmichael in it right now. Very specifically Jerrod Carmichael. 

I feel that.

I would also love to see Hanson in it. Their three-part harmonies are a knockout at the moment.

At the moment?

[Laughs] We were just talking about this today. I’ve literally just come away from a field where I was running towards or away from dinosaurs, and we were talking about Hanson for about four hours today and listening to their three-part harmonies. 

That is not what I was expecting.

Who else? I can only think of people who are going to be wearing it over the next few weeks, which is quite exciting. Is there anyone you want to see in it? 

I have quite a few people. First of all, Jamie Dornan. I would love to see him in it. Paul Mescal, for obvious reasons. And the fans are waiting for Matt Bomer!

Don’t you worry. They’ll be satiated! They’ll be quenched. And Andrew Scott had a good time at Glastonbury is what I’ll say. [Laughs]

I bet he did! Last but not least: Richard II is bringing you back to the stage. Wicked is giving us the musical theater moment we've been craving. Is there a musical theater moment that’ll be live on stage in Jonathan Bailey's future?

Potentially, actually. Maybe in 2026. 

On Broadway?

I would! I had the best time recently in New York and I watched as many things as I could. I saw Stereophonic, which, to me, was like a religious experience. That, and Oh, Mary! And Cole Escola.

That is what it's about. I would come back to watch that; I was so inspired by it. Obviously, I'd love to [be on Broadway] at some point and you just have to wait and see what pops up. 

Source

[chewing-drywall]

How attractive I think the band are

*I am bisexual and mentally ill so take that as you will

Skiwsgaar- he's like a fine piece of art that I'd like to draw, he's beautiful objectively but speaking frankly I am FIVE FOOT NOTHING and his 6-foot-something tall ass would be LOOMING over me. Like I could not see him from any good angles if I was up close and that's the main reason. I mean hey he could help me get things from the top shelf I guess??(but yea also he probably has a multitude of stds that I don't really feel like potentially getting, same with any other member of the band I guess)

Toki- yea he's attractive, energetic personality, fucking shredded and likes cats and other crafty things (which is a plus for me). As a collector I like how decorated his room is. Either good or truly horrendous in the bedroom no inbetween. I however am not entirely into the facial hair, it's not something I could imagine on a real person existing. But yes he's hot he'd be an insane ass boyfriend though the baggage is INSANE

Nathan- I'd fuck him. I'd date him. I would be so good for him, please God I'd even get over my weird aversion to chips for him. He's like, not 100% my type, but he fits like 97% of it. He could throw me across the room, or so easily carry me it's got me giggling and kicking my feet. He's the guy I'd have a crush on in high school (more the ripped scary looking metalhead vibe than the football part). He's autistic and I'm autistic and unfortunately, we would probably clash on some ends but otherwise we would both use eachother as weighted blankets

Murderface- you know, I've seen some really fucking good fanart over time and honestly some of those art pieces I could get into. He's hot as a butch chick like ladyklok, and more alternative with some more piercings and hair maintenance and that'd really do it for me. I like his passion for his hobbies and his loyalty to his friends.

Magnus- freaknasty sex in like the back of a shitbox car or something. I don't think I would be sober but neither would he, not for anything long term but bro would give head like a champ and immediately ghost me afterwards which is expected

Charles- I TOOK HIM TO MY PENTHOUSE AND I FREAKED IT!!! you guys. I-, Like- let's be so honest he'd never be interested in me and I'm totally chill with that, however this is MY insane fantasy!!! And if I walked in a room with that man, locked it and came out three hours later one of us is gonna be pregnant and it's NOT! gonna be me

Pickles: (SORRY I FORGOT HIM GUYS CHARLES OVERTOOK ANY MENTAL FUNCTIONS)- his hair was one of the main reasons I didn't watch metalocalypse sooner, the goatee with the disconnected sideburns going up to smelly white people dread locks COMBOVER??? honey pick a struggle because good God. However. His confidence is attractive, any (good) fics I've read of him make him even more attractive considering his laid back personality (hiding buckets of anxiety me too twin), his sleeper build is definitely hot but I think his drug problem make him generally poor in bed considering he has whiskey dick and coordinations out the window, and has definitely vomited during sex before so that kinda doesn't work well. I mean sober though (hahaha when? I mean like 85% aware of his surroundings) he's probably a fantastic lay when he can lock in and concentrate. But yea he's pretty solidly attractive (ESPECIALLY the fanart of young pickles I want to tear into him like a chew toy)

Abigail- yea she's hot as fuck. Like you can't hate her her eyes are sooo pretty and she pulls of that pant suit too well. She would have me barking like a dog in a Walmart if she asked nicely enough. 100000/10

Knubbler-nah, not big into his personality or looks, also his eyes do freak me out slightly

[deadrayg2mf]

The Gargoyle's Captive (A Deal with a Demon #3) by Katee Robert

Honestly, like, what do I even say at this point that ya'll haven't heard from me about how much I freakin' love Katee Robert and this series. I will keep this one brief for real because if I don't it'll just be like "Oh my god, Ray, shut the fuck up we get it - this book came out three months ago you're late to the party!"

Okay, so aside from it being Katee freakin' Robert, this book is full of enemies to lovers, femdom, grief-consumed protags, and - my favorite, of course - angst. Yeah, did I see the plot twist coming from a mile away? One thousand percent. Did I care? Frick no. Okay, so we're following the same story - deal with a demon, seven years basically married to leader of demon territory, maybe a baby... But this time, it's Grace the monster hunter and Bram the Gargoyle.

Grace is another enjoyable female lead who is a headstrong take-no-shit kinda gal, probably what you would expect from someone who makes a living out of hunting monsters. She's the last of her family and she's really only here for answers because Azazel happens to be the same demon her mother, who disappeared, made a bargain with, and by golly, she is going to get those answers even if it means selling seven years of her life. Bram is traumatized, grief-stricken, lonely, and at this point has the most sad-boy, giving up on life, fuck it energy I've ever seen in a protagonist - and I am so here for it. I eat that shit up. I love the tragics - stories and characters. He's also the last of his family after his entire family was murdered by an outsider his father brought in. He doesn't actually really want to be there but the opportunity and benefits it brings are too good to pass up, especially when you're in the leadership position he is...

I loved the story clearly, and really liked how handling grief was portrayed, no two people will be able to handle it the same even when they are in the same situation. Grace dug her heels in and became even more stalwart and determined while Bram gave in to the grief of loss and resigned himself to an empty life... and even potentially having it purposely ended at the hands of a scrappy little monster hunter in the bath... They are two people coming to terms with events of the past, the shadow of their parents, and suddenly dealing with someone new who they bought at an auction/got auctioned to for the next seven years that they don't necessarily get along with. That's right, they're totally toxic for each other. Don't worry, we're always promising happy endings here :) It's fast paced, there's a lot to get through in 186 pages, but I really think it was done to the best of its ability. Do I wish this was 500 pages? Uh, YEAH, but it is what it is and what it is, is really good. I will admit... it took me a hot minute to slug through obviously. I actually feel a little bad about this review because I was kind of forcing myself to read this. I wasn't in the right headspace and so while objectively I knew I was enjoying it I was also aware that I was, like, not locked in. I am very much intending to reread it when I'm not begrudgingly reading while rotting in bed just because nothing sounds enjoyable.

With that, I swear I am not just pulling shit out of my ass with everything I've told you. I really did enjoy the book, I love the way it's written, I liked the characters, the cover art is amazing, and it's just another great addition to the Deal with a Demon series. I think I'll give it a solid.... 7.9/10 with subject to change in the future :)

Would I read again? Yes, I plan to. Once the pesky ole depression and imminent demise anxiety wear off.

Would I recommend? Of cousre, I'm always recommending Katee Robert... I'm not sure what happens on the day I don't...? Does the world end?

[bills-pokedex]

To whom it may concern (Bebe and Cassius):

I'm sure we'll all well aware of the current event surrounding a certain Unovan(?) entrepreneur who stylizes himself as a genius. It is therefore unnecessary to show me news about his latest "innovative endeavors" for the express purpose of "watching [me], an inventor, age about ten years every time."

So to get it out of the way for the thirteenth and hopefully final time:

Yes, I'm aware.

No, I don't know how he got a stainless steel tank, a rocket cobbled together from spare parts, a self-driving car that occasionally ignites into a ball of flames while trapping its driver in thanks to multiple design flaws, or the brain chip past an ethics committee.

Yes, I am "salty" that I made one mistake with one of my inventions, and now I'm constantly scrutinized by the Pokémon Cutting-Edge Technology Research Institute's ethics committee.

No, I do not want the brain chip.

Yes, I want to study the brain chip.

The fifth point is out of morbid curiosity as to how it got past an ethics committee, not respect.

Hopefully, this clears things up.

Best, Bill

-

{From the Mun:

I found this in the drafts, and I thought it would be hilarious to bring this out and tack on an update post while I'm at it.

But the biggest thing is, I'm . . . actually leaving Tumblr. Now, the main reason for that is my main got super borked up. I've been told by my followers over there it's not shadowbanning, but I'm pretty sure it's random-ass shadowbanning. I cannot receive asks, I can't tag people, I don't have DMs, and I don't show up in notes. As for why, I can't fathom. For the most part, I've kept my nose pretty clean on that account, other than that one time somebody in the writeblr community kinda lost it and tried to use a bunch of random people as a scapegoat for drama reasons. Yeah, idk.

Anyway, the point is, I've submitted a ticket a few months ago and then . . . never heard back. And honestly, for personal reasons, I'm not really inclined on remaking.

Personal reasons being I'm gunning for writing an actual book, as you might know from my last-ish post? Like, non-Pokémon book. Though I'll admit some bits might be familiar to those of you who've hung around the blog for a while. Here's a hint: take powerverse, gender swap it, role swap it, and then stick it into FFXIV and add more steampunk. It's been cooking for the past year you haven't seen me, and I'm aiming to start pitching it to agents by the end of the year. If you'd like to follow along, if you're also a writer who would like to make more writing friends, or if you just like my writing for some reason and want to keep up with me, you can find me at jaxwolffwrites on both Bluesky and Twitter. Bsky moreso, but you'll get progress on this project on either of those other platforms.

Now, I will say this: just to be fair, I'm doing three things:

Closing the askbox. Admittedly, if you've been sending me asks for the past three months, I haven't seen them anyway. Sooooo I probably should've done that ages ago. Sorry about that.

Answering any ask I've saved to the drafts. Any ask. Please note that I don't know if the borking I've described above extends to this blog as well, so Bill won't be replying to replies or reblogs/tags. Apologies for that in advance. There are 49 posts in the drafts, and these will come out fairly slowly as I continue to keep up with my writing schedule on the other project.

Leaving this blog up as an archive. Assuming Tumblr doesn't nuke the main and the backup account that was created in an effort to avoid total nuking, and assuming Tumblr doesn't nuke this blog itself, I really want to leave this up so you can enjoy this pretty much forever onward. You all are the reason why this blog has gone on for so long, and I want to preserve this blog as a thank you for following me for so long.

So yes, after I clear the drafts, you'll likely see one last farewell from Bill and Lanette, and then that will be that. To everyone who's followed, thank you so much for following and supporting this blog over the years. As many ups and downs as running this had, I still look back on every moment as one fun adventure.

So thank you, and take care.}

[iknowshocker]

What do you think Kai would be like as a boyfriend if he had a genuine/healthy bond with someone?

For being one of the funniest characters in tvdu, I don’t think we ever even saw someone laugh at one of his jokes, so I’ve always been curious what it would’ve looked like if just one person matched his energy or at least accepted him

oh my goodness, i love this queeeestiooon!

let me just quickly out myself by saying if you lined up all the TVD men and told me to pick, kai would be my one and only choice. 🙈 my love for him horrifies my husband but i stand behind my witchy woo man 🫡

first thank you !! for saying he's funny !! you're right no one really appreciates his humor in the show and its one of the silliest choices imo. like you can admit the scary man has jokes, guys, it's not going to kill you. (oof sidenote but him and Jo having the same humor/picking on each other is one of my fav things!)

if he was out and about making his lil comments and someone started giggling a few seats down at the bar i truly think he'd combust. also probably be like "....me? you - you're looking at me? you think i'm funny ??? 😳 AnD CUte ?? really????" and then try immediately to be cooler about it but like, he's screaming crying throwing up inside

canonically we also know he liked it when bonnie matched the more aggressive/argumentative side of his personality, so i don't think he'd be able to be with someone that didn't pick at him a little. you gotta be able to tease him back but also like .. not take it too far cause he 100% can't take as much as he can give lmao (one older sibling to another we're a lot more sensitive than we pretend to be)

basically i think kai needs:

somebody grounded to keep him from totally flipping out

but who is also willing to fight for what they believe in

spontaneous and playful - but also thoughtful and mindful of his mood swings

kind enough to love him completely despite his past

and supportive enough to help him rebuild the coven

so...yeah, bonnie, basically lol

i think s6 kai at minimum needs to be with a witch that is willing to share power, and s8 kai needs a vampire or heretic. s6 kai could make it work with a human but pre-merge you're risking a lot, and then if you put s8 kai with a witch/human, he's turning them no questions asked so we better hope they're okay with it. (let's just leave legacies kai out of this, okay? he is a different breed)

i picture him being touch starved like you wouldn't believe, so super super clingy and probably jealous at least in the beginning of a relationship. that would go for friendship, too, honestly.

i think it would be really hard for him to a. wrap his head around someone picking him and then b. allow them to also pick other people. i don't think he'd throw a klaus sized tantrum, he'd be more petty about it: "oh sorry i just assumed you liked damon now since you said you liked his hair today and yEaH i was listening from three tables over watching the whole thing don't lie i SAW HOW YOU SMILED AT HIM-,"

but like he'd mellow with that as time went on and he starts to believe he can trust being loved. on that note i think he'd need a lot of reassurance but simultaneously be embarrassed/unsure of how to ask for it. some fights would happen as he works through how to regulate himself, but i don't picture it being a delena level of toxic. kai is more self aware/honest about himself so even when he's making poor choices he's like "woah hold on, why am i doing this ?? ah yes, that's why" and i think he'd get to a point where he knows his triggers and can help a partner figure out how to avoid them/talk through them.

so think like "my boy only breaks his favorite toys" vibes. he's so sure things are going to be taken from him/stuff can't be trusted that he'll mess it up first to hopefully make it hurt less. but with time a partner could help him see that he can have nice things !! love is real !! id love to see him build up the coven/a friend group/family with a partner beside him and just !! enjoy life lmao

anon you said boyfriend not husband but i hc he'd actually be an amazing dad. i would want him to end up having a siphon !!! end the coven curse of abuse bb 👏🏼 i have a post detailing what i would have done with the parker's that talks about him being a good uncle too!! i don't know i just think he'd be weirdly good with kids. so even if we're talking heretic!kai he'd be bringing kids/teens into the coven to help them and he's gonna need a partner that is down with that

no matter the stage of relationship he's super tactile. (mans has no context or care over some PDA being inappropriate). you're always sitting in his lap, or he's draped over you requesting that you play with his hair, he keeps his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, he wants you to play with his rings, ect. just always always always touching in some way even if it's small. it was something he missed out on for so much of his life and i think having someone actively want to touch him would never get old.

(sad note i picture this being a bit of a PTSD thing for him too. so certain things would make him flinch or jump and he might not even really be aware of it all the time. like he'll be tense as hell and his partner is like "honey what's happening ?? where have you gone ??" and he'd have to take a second and body scan before realizing oh shit Yeah, something is Wrong)

he's possessive as hell so expect hickys left where everyone can see AND a smug annoucment that he knows where you got them :) if we're talking s8 kai i imagine he would leave bite scars intentionally. so like heal them with magic but leave the little fang marks so other vamps know you're spoken for and he'd probably also have them on his wrist

i think a common hc is that he's Always the dominate one, but we all saw him in those chains, boy's totally a switch. (i also personally hc that 1994 kai is virgin!kai, but that's a story for another day). still tho i do think control is a big thing for him so he's definitely more comfortable being the one in charge. with trust comes wanting to mix things up tho so that's nice all around.

hands down the best boy to date during the holiday season are we kidding ??? any little thing you can possibly think of he's down and probably already has it planned:

apple orchard

carnival !!

christmas tree decorating

horror movie marathon !!

baking sugar cookies

snow ball fight

you're hosting the holiday parties now i hope you like cooking for a whole coven !!

like sep-feb you are Booked and Busy (i hc he's not much of a summer boy but that's okay if yall went back to portland west coast summers are built different, pls don't keep him in the south from mid june-mid august i fear he will melt)

if there's a downside i think it's how protective he would be. i think the mix of possessive/protective/clingy could be too much for some people but again i don't think it would last at such a high level forever. it's just elements of his personality that show up especially in high stakes situations, so they shouldn't be ignored.

but yeah anon, basically give the boy a chance and he's tripping over himself to be the best partner he can be 🤷🏼‍♀️

[oysters-aint-for-me]

last night i saw kesha in concert and it was amazing obviously. but this post is not about how much i love kesha.

behind me and my friend stood three beings. they appeared to be three teenage girls, probably somewhere between 15 and 18. all three were wearing black crop tops and black skinny jeans. all fine and normal. this post is not about their outfits.

they were talking to each other the entire concert - which is fine, it's a concert, the music is loud, people are with their friends, they talk to each other. this post is not about how annoying The Youths are.

what this post is about:

i am like 99% convinced that these three "teenage" "girls" were extraterrestrials who, in order to blend in with humans during their visit here, had taken a 101 intro language class about the slang used by the current generation of english-speaking teenaged earthlings.

every single line out of their mouths was gen z slang, to the point that it was literally uncanny. they were using the slang...well, not incorrectly, at least from what i could tell as a 35-year-old, but there was something indefinably off about it. "is this giving senior year?" "oh my god it's TOTALLY giving senior year" "YAAAS KESHA" "YAAS QUEEN" "kesha's got rizz!" "SLAY" "she's giving taylor " "she's giving nicki minaj" "YAAAS KESHA!" "SLAY KESHA!" "YAS QUEEN!" "these vibes slay!" "kesha is SO based" and that was basically the extent of their vocabulary.

except it also truly seemed like they had never been to any kind of concert or performance before - except they also talked about having gone to a taylor swift concert. at first i honestly thought they were doing a bit, like, "oooh we're so dumb we don't get how concerts work hahaha," and sure, it might have been.

but in my opinion, their befuddlement happened way too often and way too sincerely to be a joke. like. near the beginning of the concert, people started dancing, like you do; these three creatures' reaction was: "We can dance here?!" if kesha left stage for a bit for a costume change or a water break or whatever, these three creatures would go, "WAIT WHERE DID KESHA GO IS SHE COMING BACK?" they were absolutely stunned and thrilled when everyone took their phones out with the lights on and held them up during a slower song - you know, like people used to do with lighters, like people do at concerts. and the encore situation utterly baffled them.

they also seemed fully convinced that another popstar was going to show up. and this led to them simply naming popstars. "nicki minaj." "macklemore." "beyonce." "britney spears." "taylor."

(yes, only "taylor" - their vocabulary class must have taught them that while "taylor swift" is her full name, human gen z girls are on a first name basis with her.)

now. if they were only confused but didn't go so hard with the gen z slang, my reaction would be, "aw, these kids are experiencing a concert for the first time (or second, i guess, if they had seen "taylor")--how sweet to see young people discover something new!"

and if the reverse was true, if they used all that slang but didn't seem so baffled by the concept of a live performance, i would simply be amused by their conversation and i wouldn't think much of it.

but the mixture of both, plus the moment when they started listing popstars, and they were all wearing the exact same outfit? you do the math.

so i put those clues together, came to the obvious rational conclusion, and now all i can imagine is those three (very enthusiastic, to their credit) extraterrestrials in their true alien forms practicing their gen z vocab:

"i have a question for you, my dear besties! macklemore: based or cringe?"

"YAS, macklemore. i have heard of this one. i believe he is based."

"me too. i am also aware of this macklemore. i too believe he is based."

"this is correct, he serves slay."

"YAAAAS, your highness."

"we are being very normal teenaged girls in this year on Earth two thousand and twenty three."

"YAS HUNTY, we are very normal, because Earth is where we are from."

"and two thousand and twenty three is indeed how we refer to this year due to one of the numbering systems that has been established by humans, which is what we are."

"YAAS KWEEN!"

"now, tell me, besties mine, would you say that ed sheeran is giving cunt?"

"yass, i believe that is based as well."

[all three nodding at each other, satisfied with their progress]

[nicromancytarot]

Hello boys, I recently saw some discourse on some reading choices that people have been posting, and one of those things that came up were to do with celebrity crushes, all while I have entertained the idea of creating fun little pick a cards on celebrity crushes, I would like to say that readings are based on where you are now, so it’s not a “will you date your celebrity crush?” Period, its a “from where you are going right now, could you have the chance of dating your celebrity crush?” As when we do readings, free will always comes into play.

I will never entertain such things as “will your celebrity crush fuck you?” or anything like that, my fame pick a cards are just things that I find fun to do, I personally really enjoy the intricacies of fame and popularity, so making pick a cards about those are just interesting to me.

My pick a cards are absolutely not to be used to fuel any delusions or parasocial behaviour, again, they are strictly for fun and entertainment purposes.

Even if you picked a pile that gave you a yes on your celebrity crush, you’re probably not going to due to free will and all that stuff, they’re just there for fun and spice.

When you read a pick a card from me, take it with a grain of salt, there’s no need to get upset or rude about the answers that you receive, I do this for fun man, I’m not charging anything as of right now so calm your horses.

As of right now, I have two more celebrity crush pick a card ideas, if these seem to inappropriate, I am totally fine to be told so, however I personally do not see the issue.

- Will you meet your celebrity crush?

- What will your celebrity crush think of you?

Neither of these are to be used to entertain any parasocial mindsets, again they are only for fun!

When it comes to my “Fame” section, it is mainly focusing on what you can do to become famous, how can you manage fame etc, it’s for those few people who are really trying to achieve fame, and grow in that industry. The celebrity crush parts are just for fun, not supposed to be taken as a serious thing.

I have a very diverse amount of readings, I like to really think about everything, I also take a lot of inspiration from my favourite youtube Tarot readers. BUT CELEBRITY CRUSH READINGS ARE PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT (wasn’t aware people were taking them seriously, my bad lmao)

PERSONAL READINGS

When it comes down to personal readings, it unfortunately seems like I have to say it again, as of right now, I am not doing any personal readings, I do not think I have achieved the amount of respect that I deserve when doing these, I had people demanding, not following or interacting with my posts, and just being straight up rude and entitled.

You are not entitled to a reading from me.

As for exchange readings, I am quick to do readings, and I am even quicker to type them up, so you will probably receive your reading from me first. If you do, for the love of God, give me my reading too lmao, I am so tired of giving people readings after they ask for an exchange, but then not receiving one back, like what do you gain from that?

Also! I love the concept of shifting realities, I personally myself have been trying to shift for three years (I try like twice a year #real) So I was wondering if anyone else is into shifting, and if you’d like some shifting themed readings!! I personally think it’s genius. It would entertain concepts such as

-What can you do to help you in your shifting journey?

-What method is best for you?

-What would your shifting S/O think about you?

etc etc, very fun, so give me your opinions lads.

To wrap up my way too long rant, my readings are not law, I am a human being, I am not a machine, I have two arms and ten fingers, CELEBRITY CRUSH READINGS ARE NOT TO FUEL YOU PARASOCIAL MFS RAHHHHHH

They’re just for a little bit of fun 🤏

[uhgood-girl]

i haven't had a chance to fully form this thought yet so bear with me while i explore my own brain but my immediate response to this is i think two things can be true at the same time.

this is me playing devil's advocate with both you and myself, tbh. if you do not enjoy borderline pedantic over thinking, i recommend you turn back now.

i watched the entirety of standing next to you with my jaw on the floor. beyond seeing jk in what i would consider to be the epitome of his element, the arrival of all that experience and hard work and raw talent finely honed, culminating in the absolute pop perfection that is both that song and performance... well, i've made a joke on here before about my brains inability at this stage to not insert jikook into things. i could maybe help it if i wanted to (i can stop at anytime, says the alcoholic 🥴) but i don't want to because i'm having fun and i've made friends with the brain worms. they're my brain worms, who are you take them from me.

i have also mentioned jikook being it's own form of pattern recognition drug for mine, obviously, and probably other's more neuro-spicy tendencies. once you have seen and unlocked the code, it's really hard to turn the goggles off.

so let's talk about patterns. what is a pattern? a pattern is lmao no, i'm kidding, i don't think i need to define this for you but i guess when i say pattern here i'm referring to what a lot of people often call coincidences. (have i lost you already bc of this word? i know people throw it around often here, but again, bear with me) coincidences can become patterns if they repeat enough. how many coincidences does it take to form a pattern? three, i believe, is the universally accepted number but that feels so small when i type it out, much less think about it, tbh. but i suppose in the discourse of coincidences, something that reoccurs without apparent connection, (traveling strangers who keep ending up in the same cities together, you and your friend always texting each other at the exact same time, two people in a band who keep mysteriously referencing things that connect them in a particular sort of light) bc of the unlikelieness of their serendipitous nature, it makes more sense. and because i want to discuss this in a more tangible form and i believe humans to be meddling by nature, i think coincidences become patterns, beyond the number three, when intent enters the equation.

was that a very long way to say that despite the fact that jk didn't write any of the lyrics himself and is quoted in the article above as telling people to not take things too literally that i'm still going to intuit some autobiographical meaning from them? well, yes. i guess so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

because ✨context✨(glass closet and comp het in particular). a context that i fully admit i am abscribing to the situation myself but if you're reading this i assume you're already in this boat with me, it's your context too, at least tangentially (GUILTY, your honor) by association. the entirety of any jikook argument has to exist in this space and to have gotten here at all required taking some liberties, a certain reading between the lines that is a tightrope of wanting to respect what someone says outloud and at face value while being aware few things are ever black and white (minus the infamous couple in question bah bum tiss 🥁).

if it feels different to you bc it's something he explicity expressed, that's totally fair. i've been back and forth about it a few times myself and maybe i'll feel differently tomorrow. but rn, this is where i'm at and this is all just spitballing at the end of the day, no?

in an attempt to not be accused of only picking and choosing the lyrics that suit my (gay) agenda, it feels worth pointing out that the lines i find applicable to jikook are not literal. as in while i fully believe jk could probably do anything he set his big, beautiful heart out to do, leaving someone's body golden like the sun and moon is unlikely. ( the jikook relevance is in it's choice, why that particular metaphor) and despite being more in the realm of possibility, i don't really believe he's fucking seven days a week either. his agreeance to the use of female pronouns in some songs and even the women in his music videos are a. the comp het standard for this worldwide pop boy takeover (inarguably) and b. don't automatically negate any potential underlying queerness of the artist himself. so when he sings she (is there even anything in the lyrics beyond the pronoun itself that could only refer to a cis woman? hell, does "she" only have to refer to a cis woman in this day and age? jimin is v in touch with his anima these days, don't kink shame :P) I'm taking that as an artistic liberty the same way I'm taking something like it's deeper than the rain. and the latter rain line only stands out to me because, again, broader context.

he didn't write any of the song lyrics but he was there for every step of the production and still approved what actually made it on to the album. he didn't write there for you, the song in gcf tokyo either but i dare you to go find a jikook argument about that video that doesn't list that song and its lyrics as evidence. he didn't write them but it's definitely something he cares about and is very aware of. i doubt anything was chosen without some degree of thought. which brings us full circle back to coincidences vs patterns and intent.

do i think the lyrics a lot of us collectively recognized as jikook coded, even if you respectfully don't want to read that far into it, were a coincidence this late in the game? ain't no way lmao. our jikook roads are paved with these sort of "coincidences." you think they weren't apart of the appeal? helped boost it right to main track status? maybe if it had just been the lyrics, without any of the imagery in the video (i would love to know how much creative direction he had here too, i hope we find out) to back it up, but between that not straight red line of fate, the black swan like wings, the dancing in front of the sun painting, the two households, both alike in dignity, in fair verona where we lay our scene aka the forbidden love vibes, etc. - it's too much for this sad little hyper-fixated romantic queer, personally lol.

so, i think two things can be true at the same time! i'm sure a lot of the songs and their implications have no autobiographical meaning to them beyond a universally relatable conversation and narrative about love, i do believe him. i think based on all the responses and feedback his first releases got, making a statement such as the one in the article was a good? pr move if nothing else too and definitely in line with what we have come to expect around an industry that bts is both sort of moving away from but still restricted by at this stage. if you've read any of my other ramblings so far on this site, you'll know i operate from a place of the more smoke screen around all this (this being a potential romantic relationship between jikook) the better, bc at the end of the day i want all of bts more than anything safe, happy, and free to pursue whatever creative fancy they can dream. them building a level of plausible deniability into this sort of stuff protects them. i will remain a broken record on that point.

but bc of the larger context of jikook as a whole and my belief that jk is both clever and also a romantic at heart, i'm going to take these crumbs and go. 🚗💨 i'm not in any sort of who can be the more superior, rational delulu competition, we're all in our own little clown cars no matter your chosen dressings until proven otherwise. that's the nature of this whole shebang, bby. 🤠👉👉

def feel free to come respectfully argue with me though, i'm never here to convince anyone but i enjoy these conversations and i love other people's perspective. are you ignoring the standing next to you jikook bait?

[system-of-a-feather]

Man, this will go a bit into syscourse probably, but I was just watching Monkey Man and it really had me thinking (and internally groaning) about how gender "weirdness" is really something that is not weird at all in a lot of non-white non-european cultures. Shiva in Hinduism is a great example.

It's just when you get weird white people who come in and say "well you see, my understanding of gender is actually correct and the right way to think and talk about gender and I am inherently the most correct and right and smartest way of talking about gender and everyone else is just a cultural / spiritual game and should stay within their culture because its wrong but we 'respect' it and let it be wrong"

And it really got me internally ranting about how honestly - and I was trying to be a bit subtle about this cause I know it'd probably get back lash - but as a person of color from a culture and spirituality / philosophy that has plurality and variants of it normalized - the fact that people claim that the only way a person could experience themselves as more than one being due to trauma really really upsets me, because its a very white / western / european way of thinking about the concept of self, identity, personhood, and the soul.

In some cultures, people are understood as inherently many or inherently parts of a whole. It is just something that is just a part of the culture - may that be subtly and in a non-spoken manner, or in a more direct manner in the way that animism and buddhism talks about it. People can and do experience themselves as more than one and have been doing so since long before people were really aware of what psychology even was.

The fact that people talk about how individuals experience themselves inherently in a white, western, euro-centric cultural perspective that writes off "not identifying as one singular person" as something that HAS to come from trauma just really.... kinda pisses me off.

And if the argument is "well they shouldn't be called a system cause its a totally different thing than what people with DID / OSDD have" like... really, why are we getting so hot and bothered over the fucking word "system" and two... I can't delineate where my DID and my cultural plural-adjacent experiences begin and end. And also three, if we are getting so protective over the word "system" then why aren't we getting mad at the guy who developed IFS too??

It's also just so frustrating that people look at people who identify as more than one and inherently go "oh they are only doing this because they looked at my disorder and said they wanted it" when??? no??? Sure there are some I'm sure, but again, this is something people have been experiencing for centuries - hell more than a millenia.

As someone with DID / OSDD, I get the need for protecting the medical label and the diagnosis and all that because yes, while the psych system sucks, the medical labels are medical to get help, aid, and all sorts of stuff - absolutely.

But going around stating that anyone that experiences themselves as more than one is inherently either traumatized or maliciously lying and trying to actively co-opt a disorder is just.... ugh. Not it.

Please consider that there are other cultures and perspectives to identity, self, and spirit that impact how one identifies and engages with their own existence before you start sounding like a colonizer.

-----

Anti-endos are welcome to respectfully discuss and engage.

Arguments and debates are not welcome and will be blocked.

This is partially me venting about white / western people. Do with this as you will.