#Aaron has shitty memory

[itsriverdark]

I'll take the hc that Aaron is smart and has amazing notes from his classes, but I'll also take the hc of him having a shitty memory even though

twinyards hc that aaron has a shit memory and so before his bio exams (tons of vocab) andrew makes associations for him with stupid insults to help him remember.

aaron doesn’t realize the first few times, until he’s blanking on an exam and randomly thinks of a time where andrew made a comment about kevin needing to grow a spine or he’d give him spondylolisthesis and his notes on vertebrae conditions come flooding back

[imyimsorryy]

i bet you think about me

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: kidnapping, usual cm violence, kinda emotional cheating (not on each other), mentions of a hook up, angst —> fluff

no use of y/n

word count: 7k

“This isn’t working.”

It’s a punch straight to your gut. The words echo in your mind as you drive home, void of any emotion. The radio is muted, and the dull falling of snow does nothing to help your melancholy.

You love him, part of you always has. From the moment you stepped into the BAU, you knew he would ruin you. You just didn’t think it’d be like this—so close to the holidays you cherish.

Your phone rings from the empty passenger seat, you glance over, spotting Penelope’s picture flashing on the small screen. You ignore it, you aren’t in the mood to talk to anyone. The call ceases after a minute, but then the screen is lighting up again with a voicemail and a text message. You sigh, reaching over to press play on the message.

‘Hey babydoll, me and Prentiss are going Christmas shopping tomorrow, you in? Call me back, love ya.’

At least she doesn’t suspect the heartbreak you just experienced.

It had been a long case, the grueling cold of Minnesota only heightened everyone’s grumpiness. Christmas is in a week, everyone just wanted to get home to their loved ones.

Aaron had been snapping at you—and then when you separated from him and Derek to capture the unsub, he had snapped. He never yelled at you in front of the team like he did that day. You felt like a little kid again, being scolded over anything. You can’t get the pitiful face of JJ out of your mind.

You type a quick, ‘Sorry, I’m busy’ before throwing your phone back on the seat, redirecting your full attention to the road in front of you.

Your apartment is dark when you open the door, the bare walls and cold floor are what drive you to open the bottle of red wine stashed in your pantry.

The loneliness of it all—of having someone so tantalizingly close, and then losing it too much. His touch, his lingering glances, and whispered promises linger in your mind. The way his hand would brush yours while passing files or how he’d tap his knee to yours during a briefing; all of it is etched into your memory.

By the third pouring of wine you abandon the glass, opting to just drink it straight from the bottle. The TV plays a shitty reality show, you almost laugh as you listen to the rich snobs complaining about what to wear.

You lay your head on the back of the couch, and in the process of kicking your feet onto the coffee table you accidentally knock the glass over, spilling the remaining droplets of red wine and glass shards onto the light colored rug beneath you.

Normally you’d have cursed the universe for it, laughed a little, then cleaned it up. But now, you just stare at it. Broken and bloody—as dramatic as it sounds it’s how you feel at the moment, and you can’t bring yourself to get up and grab the broom.

You twist your body so you're laying down on the couch, and you fall asleep listening to the annoying voices on the TV and the smell of grapes.

You’re awoken to the sound of an incessant knocking on your front door. You’re not sure what time it is, but the sunlight peeking in through your blinds gives you enough clues to estimate.

You contemplate ignoring it, but then the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, it’s Aaron. Maybe he’s hurting the way you are, maybe he’s sorry. In the process of getting up you feel glass crack on your bare foot, followed by a searing pain and a red footprint when you step off of it.

The knocking still doesn’t stop, and you conclude that you have to answer no matter what, so you can at least make whoever it is patch your foot up.

Blonde and black hair are all you see in the peephole, of course they came to get you anyway.

“Hey sweets.” Penelope is far too happy for you to understand, your head is already pounding from your previous wine drunk state.

You open the door wide enough for them to come in, and Emily notices your pained expression, before casting her eyes downward. “Jesus, what happened?”

“I stepped on glass.” You stumble slightly, gripping her shoulder to hold you up. Emily looks around your living room. She notices the empty wine bottle, the stained carpet, the messy blankets thrown about the room. She turns her attention back to you as Penelope searches for a first aid kit. “Are you drunk?” Penelope laughs, Emily gives her a look.

You hear Penelope mumble something about profilers as she approaches you with bandages and tweezers.

You try to get out of Christmas shopping, but part of you can use the distraction. The holiday lights flicker on the street, the sunlight making it hardly noticeable, but you notice.

“Aaron, where are we going?” You laugh, his hands around your eyes causing you to lean into him to steer you. “Just wait.”

A few more feet and he’s finally removing his calloused hands from your eyesight, you open your eyes in awe at the sight in front of you. Christmas lights blind you, from every direction.

In the center of the festively lit town is a large Christmas tree, it’s one you would see in a cartoon with how comically large it is.

Different strings of lights shine brightly and he watches with a wide smile as you take in the site. You love Christmas lights, he’ll never forget when you two drove past a house decked out in them after a hard case. Your eyes had glistened with joy in the passenger seat.

You turn back to him with a smile that could make him faint, and then the whole park goes black.

You’re the first to laugh, the idea that he brought you here to show you the lights just for the power to go out as soon as you arrive makes you gasp for air next to him. He looks grumpy beside you, preparing to pull his badge out to make them fix it for you.

He’d have captured a star for you if it made you smile, but hearing your laugh beside him was enough to snap him out of his annoyance, instead focusing his attention on the beautiful sound coming from you.

He laughs then, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes so your noses are almost touching. “It was beautiful.” You whisper against his lips, he almost tilts his head back with how overwhelming your presence is.

It’s embarrassing, how much of a lovesick teenager you make him feel by just being near him.

“I’ll make them fix it.” He says in return, causing you to laugh again as you press your lips to his pout. “You’re sweet to me.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead he presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling away in order to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, there’s more to do.”

Penelope snaps in your face, jolting you out of the trance you found yourself in. “Hey, what’s wrong? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine.” You sniffle, wiping it with your glove. “Seriously, it’s just cold.” You try your hardest to smile, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you know Emily notices, but she doesn’t say anything as you begin walking ahead of them.

You don’t buy anything, your Christmas shopping is long out of the way. You do it every year, you get excited by the upcoming holiday and accidentally buy everyone’s gifts the first week of November.

Aaron had found it endearing, how excited you got at the idea of giving people gifts they’ll enjoy.

“Let’s go in here.” The universe must be out to get you, because the store Penelope turns into is the same one you and Aaron would frequent on your occasional days off. It’s filled with antiques and books, something he didn’t particularly enjoy looking at, but you did.

The day continues on, little things remind you of him everywhere you go. You curse yourself for being so miserable, for letting someone have this effect on you.

You sip a hot chocolate as the sky darkens, pushing the memories of him kissing the whipped cream off your upper lip out of your mind as you wipe it away with a small napkin that Emily hands you.

Penelope is talking to the woman at the booth, asking her all about where her outfit is from, when Emily sighs next to you. “What’s going on?”

You turn to her, a little shocked at her question. You ramble as you attempt to come up with a reason for your sour mood. “Please—I’m fine. What makes you think something’s wrong? Seriously Em—”

“You ramble when you lie.” Emily says as she lifts her paper cup up to her lips. “So, spill.”

You hesitate, you can’t say anything. Nobody on the team even knows about you and Aaron. You’d kept it a secret for a year and a half, you definitely weren’t going to give it up now.

“Did something happen…with Hotch?” It’s like she can read your mind, and you bite your tongue in order to not talk and reveal your lie. Then your eyes widen, remembering that you hadn’t told her about Hotch.

“Hey,” She says your name. “It’s okay, nobody else suspects anything.”

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from rambling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you guys, a few months ago. You know, he smiles more these days.”

You laugh bitterly at that, suddenly angry at her revelation. He wasn’t smiling when he broke your heart.

“Nothing happened Em. Let it go.” Your tone is clipped, and she puts her hands up in surrender, dropping the topic as Penelope approaches the two of you.

Once they drop you back off at home you flop onto your bed. A few seconds pass before you grab one of the pillows and scream into it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

The next weeks are torturous. Christmas is spent on a case in Florida, it would have been bearable if Aaron were still yours.

He knows you hate it, a white Christmas is your favorite thing, and the humidity of Florida is the complete opposite.

Hot weather has never been your favorite, the past summer you would complain you were dying every time he forced you to run with him. He thought it was adorable, and the image of you tinged with heat and sunburnt cheeks was one of his favorite sights.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” The current case is a local one, something you’re very grateful for. Sleeping in your own bed is much better than being in a suffocating hotel.

He calls your name, his voice void of his usual softness for you. “I need your report from the Michigan case.”

“I’m working on it.” You say, trying to remain civil as he stares at you. His eyes would usually soften when your tone was like that, stressed. Now he just stares. “Is that all?”

He nods, his voice suddenly dry as he tears his gaze away from you. You shoulder past him out of the conference room, heading towards Spencer as he works the geographical profile.

“There’s something there.” Aaron isn’t sure where Dave came from, but his shoulders slump slightly at the older man’s discovery. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Dave.”

“Sure Aaron.” He claps his shoulder as he walks past him, standing in the same spot you just had. “She’s good for you—after everything.”

Aaron has to fight his scoff, if only he knew how good you were for him. He has no idea that he’d already indulged, already had you for the entirety of a year, and then some.

“I’ll remember that.” His tone leaves no more room for Rossi to speculate on his life, and with that he’s walking out of the room in order to go look at the latest body with Emily.

If Spencer notices your sadness, he doesn’t acknowledge it. It’s become your thing lately, a constant frown decorating your features. “Hey pretty girl.” Derek could usually get you to smile, but lately even those attempts are futile. “Oh come on, nothing? Baby, I don’t remember the last time you shined those pretty teeth.”

“3 weeks and 2.5 days.” Spencer says without looking up from a spot he’s working on the board. “Jesus.” You mutter. You spin your chair to face Derek, mustering up a big smile.

“Here.” You grit through your teeth. “Okay, that’s creeping me out.”

“You wanted a smile.” You shrug, causing Derek to laugh as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’re here for you, we all love you.”

This has you turning away from him. We all love you.

“Hey, I think I’ve got something here.” Spencer saves you from continuing your dreaded conversation with Derek.

The case seems to drone on forever, but once you finally find the unsub’s identity you grab your gun, preparing to retrieve your vest.

“You’re staying.” Aaron looks to you, his expression unreadable as you roll your eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“I need you here with Reid.” It’s bullshit, and you know it. But you don’t care enough to fight him on it, so you scoff before walking towards the small kitchen to get yourself some coffee.

Emily walks up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your back. “He’s protecting you.”

“Emily, don’t.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?” She persists, moving around you. “Don’t you need to go with them?” You ask, shrugging her off. She doesn’t say anything else, and you make a sour face at her pitiful expression.

Aaron spares you a glance as he leaves, your eyes meeting for a split second. But as quickly as the spark was there it was gone, and you're returning to the paperwork in front of you. He notices the shuddering breath you take, and the tired slump of your shoulders.

He wants to reach out, to console you. But he can’t, he can’t let himself do it because if he does he’ll never be able to leave you again. 

You’re gone once they get back, their killer in custody and the young girl he had kidnapped returned safely to her family. He rubs his hand across his forehead before heading up to his office.

Months ago you would have flashed him a pretty smile and the doe eyes that have him bending at the knees in order to get him to leave the papers and go home with you. 

“Aaron, come on, please.”

“I’ve got reports to do honey, just give me an hour. I’ll make it up to you.” You smile at him as you snake your arms around his waist, earning a warning glare from him. “Come on.” He shakes his head at you as he peels your arms off of him.

You sit with him for one hour, then two. After two you sigh, shuffling some of the papers out of the file and picking up a pen from the metal cup he keeps on the corner of his desk. He looks at you for a moment before going back to his papers, a fond smile remaining as he continues writing on the boring documents. 

Another hour passes when you finally stand up. You stretch your arms dramatically, pairing it with an overexaggerated yawn. He knows what’s coming, and before he has the chance to look up you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his hair. “I’m going to make some coffee.” You press a kiss to the temple of his head before jumping off of him in favor of the door. You turn around with a smile on your way out, one he reciprocates instantly. “Thank you.” 

You return with two cups of coffee in your hands, you kick the door closed with your foot. “I got donuts too.” You grin goofily as you place the navy blue mug down in front of him. “Black coffee, horribly plain.”

“You drink sugar with a side of coffee.” He smirks as you take a bite of your donut. “And you’ve got the worst sweet tooth I’ve ever seen.” You stick your tongue out at that before lifting the donut up to his mouth. He shakes his head. “Right, I forgot you’ve got to be in shape for your triathlon.” 

“You’re doing it too.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” You laugh before taking another bite of the chocolate donut. You look back down at the papers in front of you, careful not to get any chocolate onto the white sheets. You can feel his eyes on you, and you can feel your cheeks flush at his unmoving gaze. “What?” You laugh. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, his eyes still on your face. “You’re beautiful.” You smile at that, pulling your lip between your teeth as you avoid his gaze. “You know how to charm a girl, Hotchner.” 

“Only you.” He shakes his head as he lifts your chin with his thumb, rubbing it across your lip once you move your head towards him. It’s one of his favorite things, how easily you lean into his touch. You smile brightly at him as he leans in to capture your lips. 

His mind snaps out of the memory as he opens the door, the once warm office filled with your presence now bare and dull. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster. It’s not something you believed in the past.

In high school when Jessica Blake flirted with your boyfriend in front of your face you didn’t even flinch. 

You didn’t want to believe that Aaron was dating again when Garcia mentioned it. But then Rossi started teasing him when he thought no one else heard, you heard it though. 

“You’re staring daggers.” JJ whispers in your ear. “What?” You turn, your tone more clipped than you intended. You soften as you face her, mumbling a sorry. JJ puts an arm around your shoulders, “I know you have a thing for him, maybe she won’t last long.”

He just finished his triathlon, the one that you were supposed to run with him. You had trained with him for weeks. Weeks of your life you spent doing something you hated just because he wanted you to do it with him, wasted. “JJ, I don’t have a thing for him.”

It should’ve been you kissing him at the finish line, instead it’s Beth. You haven’t met her, and really you shouldn’t be jealous.

“Aaron, I can’t run any more. I think my side is going to explode.” You huff, bending over at the waste to try and catch your breath.

He laughed from his spot ahead of you on the track. “I’m not joking!”

“I’m not laughing at you.” He lies, the smile on his face giving him away instantly.

He grows more concerned for you as you don’t move from your spot, instead you plop down on the ground of the indoor track. “Honey, we can go get some water, come on.”

You laugh as you stare up at him from your spot on the ground, causing him to shake his head. “I think you need to carry me to the car.”

“Come on you dork.” He pulls you up by your arm, placing a hand on your waist to stabilize you. You lean into him as you two walk out towards the locker rooms. “I’ll meet you back out here.” He takes his arm off of you, causing you to stumble dramatically.

“Go change, we can get takeout and you can pick the movie.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You giggle as you turn your back to him, heading into the women’s locker room to change into warmer clothes.

Once you’re finished changing you meet up with him again, taking his warm hand into your cold ones once the freezing air hits your skin. “I forgot my mittens.”

“I’m not surprised.” He chuckles. “So you should know to bring them for me, you know I always forget.” You pout, and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to your puffed out lips. “I’m horrible.”

The next time he forced you to go to the gym, he brought your mittens and a scarf to match them.

From your spot on the sidelines you can tell she’s a way to forget you. 

He won’t forget you anytime soon though, you can see it in the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes even while he’s surrounded by people who care about him. You can tell by the way he still searches for you in the huddle your team has formed around him, and you can tell by the way his eyes lock onto yours from across the park. 

You decide to walk up to the rest of the team then, making sure to not look away from him. Beth talks to him, and you can tell he’s giving her incoherent mumbles as responses as he finally breaks eye contact to turn towards her. 

Derek wraps an arm around you. “Babygirl, out of you four, you may be the happiest one today.” He gestures to the very hungover women of the BAU, you had opted out of ladies night in favor of wallowing with a tub of ice cream. “And that’s saying something.” 

You look at Aaron after Derek says the last part, making sure he knows that the jab from Derek was his fault. He looks away, unable to bear the guilt you’re trying to seep into him. “I need something greasy and fried.” JJ says, breaking the silence that took over the group. 

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Derek, who smiles as he ruffles your hair. “We’ve missed you coming out with us, you know.” He says as you all walk towards the parking lot. Jack comes up next to you, and you realize then how you haven’t seen him in months. You smile, unable to be annoyed at him over his father’s doings. “Hey Jack-O.”

He smiles at you, tugging your hand to get you to pick him up. “How are you buddy?” 

Aaron watches as you hold Jack in your arm, and it physically pains him. He brushes it off as an ache from the swimming portion of the triathlon. That was your favorite part, your giggles as you splashed him with the pool water during training echo in his mind. 

He turns back to Beth, reminding himself this is who he needs. Beth is simple, uncomplicated. She doesn’t work a job that puts her life at risk daily. She smiles at him, completely unsuspecting of his yearning for another woman. 

But then he hears your laugh and he’s ready to drop everything for it. It’s the kind of laugh that even the greatest musicians couldn’t capture into a song. The way your lips curl and your head tilts back is a site that even the most talented of painters couldn’t put onto a canvas. 

“Hey, good job out there. I’m going to have to train more to beat that.” Beth jokes to him, once again regaining his attention. Beth is good for him, she even enjoys running as much as him. 

You set Jack down, and smile as he runs back towards Aaron. You hear him ask his dad to invite you over again, which you quickly tune out to avoid the awkwardness.

You miss her approaching you. “Hey, I’m Beth. Jack is over there singing your praises, I had to meet you myself.” She’s friendly, and you can see why Aaron likes her. You wish you didn’t hate her so much, she seems like she’d be a good friend. 

“Hi.” You smile as much as you can, reaching your hand out for her to shake. “Aaron told me you're great too, at the job.” At the job. “I’m sure he did.” Your response is light, but if anyone knew about you and Aaron they’d know there are layers to it. 

He watches as you interact, carefully watching your movements. At the restaurant when everyone is occupied in conversations he looks at you. You can tell what he’s asking without any words being spoken. You shake her head, rolling your eyes in annoyance. He wants to make sure you were civil with Beth. 

The next morning you roll over in bed, your hair splayed across the pillow as you listen to the sound of the shower in the bathroom connected to your room. In your sleepy and hungover state, half of you expects Aaron to walk out.

Instead it’s a man with strikingly similar features. It’s not him, but he was a good hook-up to take your mind off of him. You know you're using this random guy as a surrogate, and you know the psychology behind it, but you don’t care. 

“Hey baby.” The stranger leans down to capture you in a kiss, you duck to avoid his lips. They don’t feel like Aaron’s, you remember how chapped they were last night when he had kissed you. 

“I’ve got to work.” You slip under his arm in favor of the kitchen. “I made you some coffee.” You groan, annoyed at the fact that this stranger had rummaged through your kitchen while you were still asleep. “I’m not the biggest fan of coffee.” It’s a lie, and if the man was smart he’d realize it due to the vast selection in your pantry, but alas he is not the brightest. 

“What’s your name?” He asks, coming up behind you in the kitchen. “Look, please, let’s not do this. I have work in..” You check the time on the microwave clock. “30 minutes. Shit, you have to go.” You usher him towards the door, barely giving him a chance to grab his shoes. “Come on, you can be late once. Let’s go again.”

“Get out.” You roll your eyes. “Bitch.” He scoffs, but retreats down the hallway of your apartment complex. Once he’s out you set your security alarm before racing towards the bathroom. 

Five minutes is a new record time for you to be ready, you quickly grab a muffin and mug of coffee before leaving. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” You take a seat at the round table, conveniently the only one available is next to Aaron. “Dang mama, rough night?” Derek laughs from across from you, earning himself a glare. “Alright, let’s get started.” Aaron snaps, gaining the attention of everyone. 

Once everyone disperses from the room, in order to prepare to leave, Aaron stops you, placing a hand on your upper arm. You freeze, not turning to make eye contact before shrugging him off. “Sir, I need to go get my bag.” 

He says your name, causing you to turn towards him. You scoff when he doesn’t say anything. “Coward.”

“Excuse me?” He gives you the same stern look he gives to everyone, but there’s something else in his expression. “You’re a coward.” You repeat, pointing a finger to his chest. “I suggest you cover that..mark..on your neck, Agent.” He moves away from your hand. 

“That’s what this is about?” You narrow your eyes at him, if looks could kill he’d be a puddle on the floor at your glare. “It’s unprofessional, and distasteful for you to present yourself like that at work.”

“Get off your high horse Aaron. There’s barely anything there.” You adjust the collar of your shirt to make sure it’s fully covered. “You’re upset with me, when you’re the one who went and committed to someone else. I mean, you’re the one who ended this in the first place. Go to hell.” 

It was late when the team got back from Minnesota, and everyone was tired. Aaron couldn’t focus on that though, all he could see was the scar running across your cheek, and the bruise on your eye. 

“My office.” He doesn’t touch your shoulder like he usually does when walking past your desk. His orders are cold, and leave no room for argument. 

As soon as the door is closed he’s berating you. “I should suspend you. I should have you evaluated for being so reckless. You endangered the lives of everybody today, and that’s unacceptable. You got lucky out there today.”

He’s angry, you know it’s because you almost died, but he’s deflecting like always. You don’t respond, you know you did the right thing and it resulted in a young girl being saved. “This isn’t working.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“What?” You attempt to take his hand, he pulls back. “This. It’s over.” 

“Aaron,” You pull his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes as he breaks your heart. “You don’t mean that, you’re angry.” He shakes his head, pulling away from the touch he usually craves. “Emotions have nothing to do with this, it’s a fact. We aren’t going to work. I’ll expect your case report on my desk first thing in the morning.” 

“You want to fight? I can fight, I can scream.” You sound pathetic, and you never thought you’d be begging a man not to leave you. But he’s different, he’s everything. “I don’t want to fight. I want you to go home and think about what you did wrong, Agent.”

“What I did wrong?” You scoff as you swing his office door open. You’re gone before he can realize what he just did, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of floral perfume in your wake. 

The unsub is kidnapping victims who look increasingly similar to you. Aaron can’t fight the unease in his chest as he stares at what he was doing to these women. It’s hard for his mind to not drift to images of it being you instead of them. He makes sure to pair you up with Morgan everywhere you go, already knowing that him being with you won’t do either of you any good. 

You were just stepping outside to catch your breath, it was dark out, but there were people around you, how much danger could you really be in?

You remember pulling your phone out, and you remember a searing pain in your shoulder, only registering that you’d been shot after seeing the silencer in the attacker’s hand. “Don’t scream, or he’s dead.” You don’t need to ask who, your mind immediately flashes with images of Aaron. 

Your hands are bound in the back of his van, you fight a black out as you take in your surroundings. He’s disorganized, he shot you and left a witness outside of a station. From the brief look you got of his face you know he’s young. “What do you want from me?” You ask, as calmly as you can muster in your bleeding out. “I–I need a doctor.”

“You’re not getting a doctor!” He shouts, turning around while driving to point his gun at you. “Then I need you to hurry, before I bleed out back here.” You move to get more comfortable in the cramped spot he put you in. “I know you don’t want me to die.”

“I read about you, I’ve been to all of your lectures and conferences, and you never noticed me!” You squeeze your eyes shut, Aaron has noticed you’re gone by now, you know he has. “I knew I had to get your attention somehow.”

Back at the precinct Aaron is reeling. The woman who had witnessed it was shaking in one of the chairs. “I didn’t hear the gun—but when I looked up she was bleeding and this guy was yanking her by the hair.”

He puts his hands over his ears, trying anything to avoid the thoughts that you could be dead, that the likelihood of you being dead is high. Derek pats him on the shoulder, a reassurance that does nothing to ease his mind. 

“What if this is about her?” Emily looks up from the file. “The women all look extremely similar to her, but he never kidnapped any of the previous ones.”

“But why shoot her?” Rossi asks, taking caution with his words as Aaron paces back and forth. “She—she just did a bunch of lectures at the ivies. Over our vacation last year.” Nobody questions how he knows that, but they nod. Derek pulls his phone out, dialing Penelope’s number. “Hello my furry friends. How can I be of service?” 

Derek fills her in on what happened, gaining a large gasp from the woman on the phone. “Garcia, we need to cross reference all of the people who recently attended her lectures across New England. Ivy leagues–Harvard, Yale, Princeton.”

“Yes sir.” She responds, tight-lipped, to Hotch. “And Garcia?”

“Yes sir?”

“You need to be more professional.” Derek shoots Aaron a look at that. “Come on man, she didn’t know.” 

Aaron doesn’t respond as he walks outside to investigate the scene where you were taken from. Your blood is pooled on the ground, bringing tears to his eyes. Dave comes up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aaron quickly regains his composure, wiping the tears away from his face. “She’s strong Aaron. She’ll pull through.” 

“He shot her Dave.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t–I can’t lose her.” Dave doesn’t say anything to that, he knows Aaron will blame himself for the rest of his life if he loses another woman he loves. “She’s everything, we–we were fighting last time we talked.”

“Then let’s go in there and find her.” He claps Aaron’s shoulder before turning back towards the precinct. 

You gasp as he pushes the bandages to your arm. The bullet was through and through, thankfully. “I lost a lot of blood.” You say, trying to sound submissive. “Come on, take these off my hands and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, pushing the gun to his head. “Stop talking.” 

You shake your head, fighting back the tears threatening to surface. You have to be strong, the team will find you. “What–” You shift. “What’s your name?” He twitches at you moving closer to him. “Come on, you know mine. I like to know the name of the man I’m with.” You want to throw up at the thought of flirting with him, but it’s the way to gain his trust. 

“Paul.” You nod at that. “Ok, Paul. I remember seeing you at my lecture. I…” You twitch slightly as he turns the gun around on you. “I wanted to talk to you, but you were gone before it ended.” 

“You wanted to talk to me?” You’re gaining his trust, you can tell by the way he lowers the gun ever so slightly towards the ground. “Untie me Paul, we can have some fun. I want you.” You fight the shudder taking over your features as he smiles at you. 

He unbinds one of your hands, the other is still cuffed to the chair behind you. “This is all I can do for now.”

“Thank you.” You contemplate kicking him hard, but ultimately it’s a fight he would win due to one hand still being stuck behind you. You’ll wait, and get him to trust you enough to unbind the other one. 

“I’ve got a name.” Penelope’s voice is professional, a stark contrast to her usual bubbly mood. Aaron doesn’t feel guilty for what he said to her, his attention too focused on not breaking down in order to find you. “Paul Danver. He attended every one of her lectures, and even began making obsessive comments about her in various articles.” 

“So he’s a stalker. That doesn’t explain the torture to the victims. He doesn’t want to kill her, he wants her attention.” 

Aaron thinks for a moment, racking his brain. He was at your lectures, he sat in the back to avoid attention. “The one at Yale, she was asked a question about how we pick our cases. She–she avoided answering at first but when he pressured her more she said we pick the most urgent ones. He went to these extremes for our attention, he knew it would bring her here.” 

Paul runs his fingers over your skin. Your shirt was gone, he had ripped it off in order to care for the wound on her shoulder. “Paul, I think it’s time. Untie this hand and we can be together.”

You don’t expect him to actually do it, and you fight your sigh of relief when he does. You wait a beat after he’s done it, giving him a second to lean back. He smiles as he takes in your compliant state, before leaning forward again to kiss you. This is your chance, you bang your head into his face, sending him stumbling backwards. “You bitch!” He roars, racing forward with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You push the hand holding it towards the wall as he pulls the trigger, narrowly avoiding a shot to the head. “I’ll kill you.” 

You struggle for a moment, before getting the gun out of his hand and pointing it at his retreating form. “I don’t think you will, Paul.” Aaron’s voice rings in your ears as the team fills the room. Derek puts himself in front of Aaron, knowing he’s too emotional to be confronting Paul. 

“Get on the ground.” Derek growls. Paul complies after realizing there isn’t a way out of this. 

“Let’s get a medic in here.” Aaron says into his mic before striding over to you. He breathes your name as he stands in front of you. He takes his vest off immediately, then his jacket to clothe your bare form. “I knew you’d come.”

“Always.” He sighs as he wraps it around you. A tear falls from your eye before you wrap your arms around him. He’s hesitant, not wanting to further injure your bandaged shoulder. “Please hug me back Aaron.” With your whispered plea he’s reciprocating instantly, breathing into your hair. 

“I should have killed her!” Paul shouts as they drag him away. “Get him out of here.” Aaron says harshly as he pulls away from you. “Come on honey, we need to get you to the ambulance. Can you walk?”

The team doesn’t dare say anything to the term of endearment that Aaron used for you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“I heard he broke things off with Beth.” David says to you one day while you're staring into his office. “Huh.” You make a noise without looking up from your case report. “Come on, go talk to him.” 

“Rossi, I’m working here.” You gesture to the paper, your pen has been unmoving for the past ten minutes, but he doesn’t need to know this. “You just got kidnapped, if now isn’t the time for a grand confession then I don’t know when is.” He retreats after that, heading back towards his office. 

The next day Aaron approaches you, muttering an quiet ‘my office’ just loud enough for your ears to pick up.

You smooth your sweater out as you stand, suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him.

The soft click of the door has him looking up, he almost seems surprised that you actually listened to him. “Yes?”

“Sit.” He gestures to the seat, at one point in time you’d have pulled it around to sit next to him. Now you sit on the edge, like you’re ready to jump up and escape at any time. “Agent, I think it’s in the both of our best interests to put our personal ties behind us. For the efficiency of our job, we should remain strictly professional.”

You scoff at his audacity, leaning back ever so slightly in your chair. “You want me to fight you on it. You want me to be the one who pieces this back together.”

He doesn’t respond to that, instead focusing his attention to the paper on his desk. “That’s all, I need your latest report as soon as you finish.”

He looks up slightly when you don’t make a move to leave, gesturing slightly to the wooden door.

“How’s Beth?”

He puts his pen down at this, finally looking you fully in the eyes. “She’s good.”

“Huh, I could have sworn Rossi said that she was old news.” You twirl a thread from your sweater around your finger. “We are still friends.”

“Oh, you can stay friends with her and not me?” You ask, leaning in closer to him. After narrowing your eyes you lean back in the chair again with a scoff. “Oh wait, I know why, you love me. Being friends with me would just be torture for you.”

“Agent.” His tone is warning. “Hit a nerve? I know you Aaron, I know you better than anyone. Did you tell her that you’re in love with another woman, or was the breakup mutual?”

“Enough!” He slams his hand onto the desk in frustration. “I love you, is that what you want me to say? You’ve almost died, twice in the past few months. Do you understand what that would do to me?”

Your eyes soften at his tortured expression. It’s full of many things—yearning, love, sadness. You stand then, and he prepares for you to turn around and walk straight out the door. Instead you shake your head, walking around to his side of the desk.

You place your hands on his face, cupping his jaw with one while the other moves towards his hair. He sighs, wishing you had slapped him instead. It would hurt less.

“Aaron, I love you.” You move his face so he has to look at you. His eyes are glossy, and tears brim them. “Aaron.” You whisper.

“I can’t lose you. I won’t recover.”

“I’ll be careful.” You smile as a tear rolls down your cheek. “Please.” You whisper, and that’s what causes him to break, the desperation in the singular word.

His hands find solace on your waist as he stands, wrapping his arms around your frame. He inhales the scent of your shampoo as you hug him back. “I missed you, so much.” His voice breaks as he speaks, it’s a side of vulnerable you’ve never seen from him.

You pull back slightly, smiling the smile that always has him putty in your hands. You lean in, pressing a light kiss to his pursed lips. “Kiss me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, his lips are slotting into yours instantly.

You bite his lip lightly as you pull back, earning a throaty laugh. “Not here, I’m going to take you to dinner.”

“Always a gentleman, Hotchner.”

The team all watch with open mouths and shocked expressions as you and Hotch walk out together, hand in hand.

“Well it was a matter of time before they got together.” Derek shakes his head as he turns his chair back towards his desk.

“I thought they never would.” JJ admits. “They’ve been pining for so long.”

Emily smirks from her chair, toying with the pen in her hand. “They’ve been together for over a year.” She looks up at them, watching as their jaws drop even more. “Lousy profilers you all are.”

[ddejavvu]

I’ve never sent one of these before so I apologise if this is silly. But Imagine hotch is scrolling through readers instagram and derek catches him. He’s all embarrassed denying that it meant anything meanwhile derek is literally taunting him about his crush.

i used fem!reader for this just bc you didn't specify so i hope that's okay! this prompt was so good <33

--

The way that Hotch is bent over his knees, Derek thinks that he's crying. Which is a shocking sight for him, but not unheard of. He beelines for his boss but instead of glistening tears he finds the glow of a lit screen, stopping short before Hotch is able to see Morgan out of the corner of his eye.

Morgan thinks he's actually more surprised that Hotch is hunched over his phone than he would have been if he was crying. Crying is just something that happens when you have too much sadness welling up inside of you, and Morgan knows Hotch has a lifetime of sadness pent up and ready to blow. What's strange is that he's on Instagram, his posture is shitty and he's indulging in social media like a normal person; like someone who isn't Aaron Hotchner would.

Derek isn't about to interrupt the only time he's ever seen Hotch relax, but before he can turn away, his boss's thumb clicks on a picture in the grid he'd been scrolling through. Morgan quickly realizes that what he'd thought was the Explore page was actually someone's profile, a woman- a pretty woman, and he watches Hotch peruse the six photos you'd uploaded to the set.

Morgan's never seen you before, but he commits your username to memory, hellbent on finding your profile, then giving your name to Garcia for a full deep dive. He wants to know who you are, how Hotch knows you, if you're single and ready to mingle with his seemingly-unmingle-able boss.

Hotch lingers for just a second longer on the photo of you in a bathing suit than the ones where you're posing beside your friends in matching sundresses; really, Derek might be imaging that. But it's all he needs to finally reveal himself, clapping a firm hand down onto Hotch's shoulder.

"My man," He grins, squeezing Hotch's tense muscles when the man startles for the first time in his life. Nothing ever catches Hotch off guard, but now he's fumbling to lock his phone and struggle out of his seat so that Derek isn't looming over him.

"What do you need, Morgan?" Hotch addresses his subordinate with a tight frown on his face, swallowing so that his Adam's apple bobs.

"I need to know whether to set an extra place next to you for dinner at my place this weekend," Derek pries, "Is she coming?"

"She is not coming to dinner this weekend," Aaron snaps, frown somehow deepening, "She's none of your business."

"That's no fun," Morgan tsks, "Come on, Hotch, you can tell me! Where'd you meet her, what's her name? She's cute, I see why you like her. 'Seems fun, too, she'll fit right in."

"We're not involved with each other," Hotch insists, but Derek can see his face being slowly seized by a pink flush, "I got distracted on my phone, that's all."

"Yeah, distracted by that bikini," Derek snorts, and for a moment he genuinely thinks Hotch might lunge for him.

"That's inappropriate," Aaron glares Morgan's way, fists clenched by his side.

"Alright, alright, stand down," Morgan puts a hand up to placate his boss, "I was just trying to get a rise out of you, Hotch. Y'know, what friends do? We're friends, man, you can tell me if you're interested in someone."

"In this office I'm your boss," Hotch reminds him sternly, though his stiff posture has weakened slightly, worn down by Derek's earnest appeal, "Social matters have no place here."

"Women don't like men with sticks up their asses," Morgan drawls, mentally repeating your username so that he doesn't forget it before he can dig up information on you. He turns to the door of the conference room he'd caught Hotch lingering in, headed back to his desk, "I suggest you sort that out if you ever wanna get with her, Hotch. And if you need help doing that, you know where to find me."

He takes his leave, he knows his place, but Hotch calls for him just before he can let go of the door: "Morgan."

At Derek's curious glance back at him, "Thank you. This stays between us."

Morgan hopes Hotch takes his acknowledgement as agreement, because he's not going to make a promise to his boss that he won't keep. Derek bites back a grin as he beelines for Garcia's office, no it won't.

[ifitmeanslosingyouthenno]

hold on (you must be hurting)

day 15 whumptober prompt: childhood trauma | painful hug | “i did good right?”

david was tired of his kids having to confess their darkest secrets for the entire world to judge and know and scrutinize

first it was the twins during aaron's trial, now it was neil for nathan's

it was fucking unfair to have his kids have to relieve their nightmares for the sake of proving they were only trying to save themselves

at least, with the twins, they had their small and unconventional family, they had nicky, they had their respective partners, they had betsy (andrew had betsy)

david could at least breathe knowing that they had someone to rely on, someone who could hold them up when they felt like falling, someone who could get them back together after it was over

after aaron was declared innocent thank fuck

david can't have the same reassurance about neil

not after his resident danger magnet decided he didn't want anyone with him during the trials up in dc, not even andrew

something that andrew obviously didn't appreciate

but david tried to understand him, even if his motives are stupid, tried to understand how hard it is for him to relieve every one of his father's crimes he remembered, tried to understand how he didn't want them to look at him and see his father, or worse, see his father's son

he was going to be there for the kid when he got back and innevitably broke down, when he forced his exhausted body on the court to get all that stress out until he couldn't go any longer

he was going to make sure both him and andrew were okay and well and safe

at least that was his plan until the redhead himself calls him one night before he's meant to return, voice shaky and smaller than he has sounded in years

"hi coach, i know it's kinda sudden, but can you come to dc tomorrow?"

it brings back harsh memories, of a new years eve turned sour in the form of a beat up neil, of a marked neil against his will

"what time do you want me there kid?"

he says kid out of habit, but neil hasn't ever felt quite as child-like as he does when he sighs out of relief loud enough the phone picks it up

"i have to be at the court at 8"

he doesn't have to say it, david hears the "can you be here before that?"

"text me the address kid"

david just lets matt know he's going to have to act as coach and captain for tomorrow, avoids answering why, just tells matt he'll give him a bottle of whatever he wants when he gets back

he has the decency to let andrew know as well, that he's had an emergency with one of his recruits out of the state that he needs to take care of

david knows that andrew suspects something is going with neil, but is counting on his refusal to ask for things, not to mention his deep respect for neil setting a boundary

he gets two of hours of sleep at most, and leaves just at midnight, making the seven hour drive up to DC with enough coffee in his system he doesn't even feel tiredness pull at him

neil is waiting for him in the lobby of the shitty hotel they stashed him in, a couple of too obvious feds around him, failing to pretend they aren't there to protect him

it makes david's blood boil

neil looks small sitting on a too big chair, picking at his cuticles hard enough that david would bet he's bleeding

at the motion of his entrance, neil looks up, and david's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of his bloodshot eyes and the deep bags under them. he's practically swimming in andrew's oversized jersey, and despite it not making sense, he looks as if he's lost weight in the past 4 days

neil's hands are twitching, and it takes everything in david not to reach for him and hold him close, but instead he thanks his foresight of buying him a breakfast muffin and a fruitcup in a diner he found on his way, and he hands neil the takeout bag

neil takes it with shaky fingers, silent, but his eyes speak enough in his stead

david doesn't push him

"i see the feds still suck at blending in"

that brings the smallest of smiles to neil's face, and he opens the takeout bag, staring at the muffin and the diced fruit with eyes bright and emotional, before taking a deep breath

"tell me what i've missed"

it's the only words neil speaks the entire time they're in that hotel lobby or on the ride over to the court, but david is more than happy to distract him with talks of practice the last 4 days

he makes sure to also let him know about how andrew and his foxes have been doing, about how they've been safe

the next thing he knows, they're entering a courtroom, mood somber and cold and wary

david sees the change in neil, sees the way he doesn't seem like he's there at all, but somewhere else entirely, and he talks over the things he's been and the horrors he's lived through as if they happened to someone else, as if it doesn't affect him still

if nathan wesnisnki and his circle weren't dead, nothing would stop david from going after them himself, not after everything they put neil through, not after they hurt him as bad as they did, not after they tortured him as a literal fucking child

he can't ever imagine being so cruel, being such a fucking piece of trash as a human, that you willingly abuse and torture and almost kill your own fucking child

he wouldn't imagine killing your child's mother in front of them, just for daring to want to get a chance at a better life, away from violence and crime and everything the wesninski and moriyama families did

(even if to david's knowledge, mary hatford was no saint either)

he's shaking with anger once they let neil walk off that stand, looking defeated and half gone and suffering

he wants nothing more than to jump that wooden barrier and get to neil’s side as he sits by the fbi agents protecting him

he has to stop breathing when almost shily, neil looks up and searches for david's gaze, meeting his eyes just enough that his shoulder lower oh so minutely, but it's everything

they go on a break, one where neil silently sits curled up in the corner of the bathroom, one of his guards with his back to the door, and one of david's cigarettes clutched tightly between shaky fingers

david himself aches for one, but he knows neil needs them more than him, even if he doesn't actually smoke them

from then on, neil is only called up to the stand one last time, and he looks so bone deep exhausted david is trembling with rage

how dare they make his kid tell them all of this again? hasn't he been through enough? hasn't he told them enough? what more could they possibly need?

and how dare they demand this from him?

by the time they let him stand, his legs are shaking so bad he stumbles once and has to catch himself on the stand, leaving the judge to stare at him with pity

where was that pity when they were forcing him to retell the worst moments of his life?

the moment the judge announces that nathan wesninski is found guilty of first degree murder of at least 34 people, at least the same amount of kidnappings, torture, fraud, withholding information from a federal investigation, and many other things, david is sprinting towards the flimsy doors separating him from his kid

he has no idea what neil needs right now, but whatever it is, he's going to be by his fucking side, he's not letting these bastards torture him any longer

neil is looking for david too, and it makes something in him break when he looks at those eyes brimming with tears

neil surprises him when he throws himself at david's chest, all but collapsing with his arms around his waist before david can even blink

neil josten is hugging him

neil josten who once upon a time flinched away from him when he moved too fast, neil josten who has the worst things in life associated to men old enough to be his father, neil josten who has never seeked out support this explicitly

the same neil, his neil

it's not until he notices neil's shuddering breaths, that he breaks out of his shock, and pushes past the discomfort, pushes past his own walls, pushes past his hurt, and he throws his arms over neil's shoulders as gently as he can

he feels neil trembling, doesn't know if it's out of grief, or pain, or shock, but he does his best to be what he needs, awkwardly soothing him with gentle movements

it doesn't last more than a minute or two, before neil is pushing away softly, gathering his strength to stand up on his own, breathing steady despite it all

his voice remains soft, softer than david has come to associate with him, closer to a whisper than anything else, and neil can't quite stop the waver in it

"i did good right?"

and david wants to scream, wants to curse the world who has hurt his kid so badly, wants to scream at the fbi for being unable to find proof of everything that bastard ever did before it was this late, wants to scream at them for not protecting neil sooner

he takes a deep breath and doesn't do any of that, doesn't let his expression be true

he places a hand on neil's shoulder, easing some more of that tension off his small frame

"yes you did kid, i'm really proud of you, you know?"

neil doesn't quite smile, but his eyes finally soften, finally ease

david doesn't understand how anyone could never hurt his children

because they were his, even if he didn't dare admit it, even if some were the biggest assholes on the planet, even if some were problematic beyond repair, even if some just couldn't stop themselves from tauting the literal fucking mafia

they were his children, david's, and he would rather chop off his own hands than hurt them

he would give his own life to keep them safe

he would do anything for them

"come on kid, let's go home"

(he would never admit that his bond to neil was different than that with anyone else, not even to himself)

idc if it's ooc for neil to hug wymack, they're father and son to me and neil wants to hug wymack and who am i to stop him, you can pry dadmack from the cold hands of my corpse title from son by palace (hugely recommend it for the purpose of this day's vibes)

[softhairedhotch]

Do you have any Trans!Aaron headcanons?

yesss lemme give you some <3

when he was younger and first realised he felt like a boy, he definitely pushed away those thoughts because he figured he didn't have time for it with all the things he had to do in the future (care for his mom and brother, working a shitty job, getting into law school) and he assumed no one would understand or care

i feel like he worked a few jobs as a teen so he could save up enough for testosterone/top surgery/bottom surgery if he wanted that too because he wanted to get them all as soon as possible

he used to bind unsafely bc he had no proper way of doing it :( so it took a while for his ribs/chest to feel okay again after that. he sometimes still gets pains because of how long he did it for when he was a teen/young adult

him being trans is the reason he wears a lot of suits, especially tailored ones, because it makes him look and feel a lot more masculine <3 but as he gets older and has been on t for years, he feels a lot more comfortable wearing casual clothing around his coworkers and in general

he's not out to people, only the ones he's closest too. so haley knew, jessica also knew but that's because they grew up together, and so does sean. jack probably knows, but might not understand properly until he's older, and maybe dave knows too. the rest of the team doesn't.

he's insecure about his top surgery scars which is why he's never seen shirtless or always leaves to change elsewhere and alone. i feel like after foyet stabs him a few times in the stomach, he feels a lil bit less insecure about his top surgery scars because it's not the only scars on his front anymore. but now he's insecure about all the scars because of the memories they hold and he hates the idea of people asking questions or acting like they know what he's been through </3

when there's a case that includes transphobia, he gets really really angry about it. just like jj does when the case involves kids. but the team can't figure out why it affects him so much and why it has him overworking them without even meaning to. he hardly sleeps when he's on those cases, too focused on solving it and getting the asshole in jail, and dave or whoever knows has to prompt him to take care of himself or tell him to take a breather :(

he hates having to tell people. his biggest worry is them seeing and treating him differently. that's why he never wants the team to find out; it keeps him awake some nights when his dysphoria is at its worst and his anxiety about others finding out terrifies him

if penelope found out, probably accidently by looking at his file or maybe walking in on him shirtless, she'd be sooo supportive and promise not to tell anyone and make sure that he knows she's always there for him if he needs someone to talk about it <3

he likes to work out and stay in shape because it makes him feel both healthier and appear more masculine and he likes the way it feels

he likes his hair really short. having it too long makes him dysphoric as hell and he feels nauseous. that's why it's so short sometimes bc he can't handle having it past his ears or long enough to reach his eyebrows

i think that's all i have rn <3 thanks for asking!

[frog-plague]

Hey uh very fucking random of me and please don't kill me (or do, your choice really) UHHH but like I'm not gonna say alot bc like ik you've been like getting harassed by random blogs (noah) but literally besides all that I'm pretty sure I may or may not have some form of Disassociative disorder as well...

idk I'm really sorry and I know it's really shitty of me to like ever talk to you again lol um but like your kinda the only person I've ever known to be confident enough to identify these kind of things in yourself and be open about it, I'm not gonna trauma dump but I have experienced levels of trauma as well including neglect, and I'm not really sure how it shows but I'm too scared to tell anyone because I know I have BPD and C-PTSD as that has been diagnosed but I feel like I always experience this level of derealisation and that I can't recognise myself when I look in the mirror, sometimes the tone of my voice changes and like ejejejejen idkkk

I didn't know who to ask because if I try reach out for professional help I'd feel really embarrassed and my parents definitely won't agree and won't let any diagnosis through and ahhh how do you deal with it or identify alters (in like the most non-personal way) like should I do more research or... idk.

[Feel free to block me after I'm just kinda confused :(]

To my knowledge (please know I am not a doctor and cannot diagnose you), disassociation is a common symptom of cptsd and bpd

I feel like before jumping straight to the CDD label you should try to do your own research on the different types of CDD that can cause a system (maybe look more into p-did and osdd both 1a and 1b if you really think that there's a possibility that you're a system)

If you think you've identified an alter then try to get to know them, write notes to them and try to improve internal communication, they could help with understanding what possible diagnosis you could have (that's what happened with Atticus and Aaron. Both are dormant now but that's not the point here)

under the cut I will copy paste the sys info channel in a server I'm in

Diagnoses There are 4 diagnoses that can include Complex Dissociative Disorders (Systems);

Dissociative Identity Disorder

Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder

Other Specified Dissociative Disorder

Unspecified Dissociative Disorder

Only 2 of these are CDD specific; DID and PDID. PDID is often less known, as it is only a diagnosis in the ICD-11 and not the DSM-5 OSDD is split into multiple parts, and is used when you don't meet the full criteria for another dissociative disorder (eg, depersonalisation without derealisation), and partially covers CDDs. This section is widely known as OSDD1 (osdd1a/b are actually community terms!). UDD is a temporary or emergency diagnosis, as is used when there is insuficient information to make a full diagnosis.

Diagnostic Criteria DID A. Disruption of identity characterized by two or more distinct personality states, which may be described in some cultures as an experience of possession. The disruption in identity involves marked discontinuity in sense of self and sense of agency, accompanied by related alterations in affect, behavior, consciousness, memory, perception, cognition, and/or sensory-motor functioning. These signs and symptoms may be observed by others or reported by the individual. B. Recurrent gaps in the recall of everyday events, important personal information, and/or traumatic events that are inconsistent with ordinary forgetting. C. The symptoms cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning. D. The disturbance is not a normal part of a broadly accepted cultural or religious practice. Note: In children, the symptoms are not better explained by imaginary playmates or other fantasy play. E. The symptoms are not attributable to the physiological effects of a substance (e.g., blackouts or chaotic behavior during alcohol intoxication) or another medical condition (e.g., complex partial seizures)

☆

PDID A. Disruption of identity characterized by the experience of two or more distinct personality states (dissociative identities), involving discontinuities in the sense of self and agency. Each personality state includes its own pattern of experiencing, perceiving, conceiving, and relating to self, the body, and the environment. B. One personality state is dominant and functions in daily life (e.g., parenting, work), but is intruded upon by one or more non-dominant personality states (dissociative intrusions). These intrusions may be cognitive (intruding thoughts), affective (intruding affects such as fear, anger, or shame), perceptual (e.g., intruding voices fleeting visual perceptions, sensations such as being touched), motor (e.g., involuntary movements of an arm), or behavioural (e.g., an action that lacks a sense of agency or ownership). These experiences are experienced as interfering with the functioning of the dominant personality state and are typically aversive. C. The non-dominant personality states do not recurrently take executive control of the individual’s consciousness and functioning to the extent that they perform in specific aspects of daily life (e.g., parenting, work). However, there may be occasional, limited and transient episodes in which a distinct personality state assumes executive control to engage in circumscribed behaviours (e.g., in response to extreme emotional states or during episodes of self-harm or the reenactment of traumatic memories). D. The symptoms are not better accounted for by another mental disorder (e.g., Schizophrenia or Other Primary Psychotic Disorder). E. The symptoms are not due to the effects of a substance or medication on the central nervous system, including withdrawal effects (e.g., blackouts or chaotic behaviour during substance intoxication), and are not due to a Disease of the Nervous System (e.g., complex partial seizures) or to a Sleep-Wake disorder (e.g., symptoms occur during hypnagogic or hypnopompic states). The symptoms result in significant impairment in personal, family, social, educational, occupational or other important areas of functioning. If functioning is maintained, it is only through significant additional effort

OTHER DIAGNOSES As a questioning system, we will always support you in your journey of self discovery, however it's important to look into other possibilities!

There are many disorders that can superficially mimic or have symptoms very similar to a CDD;

DPDR or other dissociative disorders

Personality Disorders

PTSD

Psychotic Disorders

As you know your symptoms best, it's important for you to do your own research into these! As you do, it is important to also keep in mind that these are also commonly comorbid with CDDs, so if your symptoms match both, it may just be both.

Good luck!

[graveyardviolence]

helloooo I am here to interrogate u for lore abt arden, ur oc, because I recently found out abt ur minyard sibling au and i usually eat that shi up soooo, may I please know more about him???

YES??? hi whoever you are you’re in my good graces i love when ppl ask abt my ocs

Arden Kinsley Minyard, raised by one Joseph Alan Minyard. Tilda basically dropped them off at Joe’s door a couple days after giving birth and never looked back. Arden is in their senior year when Wymack is looking for people to scout. At first glance their file isn’t much to look at. Mediocre playing skills, pretty fast and adaptable but that’s all they seen to bring to the table. But when Wymack looks closer he just knows he cant ignore them. They’re a Minyard, and upon questioning the twins and nicky, one that nobody knew about.

Ardens dad, Joe, is in the air force (yes Arden is a military brat), so Arden is raised on an air force base. They move around frequently, never staying in one place for too long, and during Arden’s developmental years they stick around the south, until Arden is around 7 or so, when they begin to branch out more. It’s not until they’re fifteen, living in the north east, that an incident occurs that puts Joe in prison, leaving Arden to be taken in by their best friend’s family.

They run their mouth more than they play exy

they can mimic any move another player makes without a problem

He hates pickles and onions and other vegetables and throughout most of his childhood his dad had to blend vegetables to get them into his diet

He picks at the skin on his hand so he wears bandaids to keep from bleeding

He has severe insomnia and most nights he doesn’t sleep

He has fucked up red converse that he’s been wearing since he was twelve bc he never grew out of them

He smokes weed

he has a caffeine addiction

He’s prone to random bouts of nausea and will faint/pass out

He gets the allergy injection bc he’s almost deathly allergic to cats but a kitten chased him down and crawled up his leg when he was sixteen and he’s always had a bleeding heart for strays. He hates grocery shopping but bc of his photographic memory he’s always sent out to get them. He’s jumped out of a moving car because he was angry. He lies to people for fun. He’s considered the friendliest Minyard, which he finds outlandish. Robin becomes like his little sister. He enjoys arguing with Kevin, and loves watching his partner air everyone out. He’s got three lobe piercings in each ear, he’s got four tattoos and plans on getting more.

He’s the type to sit out when theres a thunderstorm and get soaked by the rain. He’s definitely been swimming while it was storming. He’s got a vertical labret piercing and a nose ring. he wants an eyebrow piercing. His relationship with his gender is shitty at best and detached at worst. They have sharp teeth. He’s got scars from falling and scraping his knees. He’s had to get stitches after splitting his head open. He’s terrified of undergoing surgery despite knowing getting top surgery would probably put him in a better spot mentally.

Every weekend he sends a letter to his dad updating him on everything that’s happened throughout the week. The first time he goes to Eden’s he gets so drunk he passes out. When he wakes up it’s the next morning and Aaron is flipping his shit bc he thinks Arden has alcohol poisoning. It’s the most fun Arden has had since his sophomore year Homecoming.

His relationship with the twins is tricky. He loves them. He doesn’t know who they are. He’d rather die than be separated from them. He sometimes wishes he’d never met them. Andrew is who he could be. Is everything he’s not, is everything he is. He doesn’t know how to talk to them, but he wants to. He wants, so much that it aches beneath his ribs. He aches for what they could’ve been and mourns something that’s never existed. He’ll defend them to the ends of the earth. He’ll fight for them always. They’re his.

He clings to Nicky and his brightness. He sits with Kevin and Neil and watches exy games despite not caring for the game because he knows it’s important to them. He holds Robin’s hand when she’s upset. He and Renee color in coloring pages together and hang them up on Abbie’s fridge. He and Alison watch drama series together and talk shit afterwards. He goes with Dan and Matt to watch new releases at movie theaters. He cant stand Jack and Sheena together or individually but occasionally they’ll all sit in the living room together and watch cartoons during the early hours of the day.

let me stop before this gets out of hand

[pxgeturner]

blue christmas — austin!elvis x fem!reader

you attend a christmas party w your best friend. you encounter your ex, and hear his new song. you two talk about the shitty way things ended.

an. hey y’all. i’m in the thick of exams but i’ve had this finished for a while n didn’t know if i should post it. but yk i like it so this is ur update. i’ll have another thingy coming up soon too.

warnings. this is an angst piece. now it’s not sobbing at three am type beat but this did make me feel actual pain in my heart and in my palms while i was writing this. but then again i was kinda super in my feelings. that being said this has a happy ending. but this isn’t really a romance piece.

wc. 1039

you adjust your santa hat, and smooth your velvet skirt as the elevator ascends. when the elevator arrives at your floor, you throw your matching sack over your shoulder.

the door opens, “ho, ho, hi everyone!” people cheer at your arrival

your best friend pulls you aside, “hello, ms. sexy santa!”

you wiggle your shoulders at the complement and give bea a cheeky smile, “thanks,”

“i can’t believe you though, we agreed not to do the costumes!”

you shake your head and wag your finger at her, “nuh-uh, you just decided not to be my little helper. i never said anything like that.” you tell her you’re going to go make rounds. but she grabs your arm.

“wait! have you heard it?”

“heard what?”

“elvis released a new song.”

oh.

“ok,”

“it’s gonna suck when you hear it,”

“i’ll survive.” it’s highly unlikely rock ‘n’ roll is going to play at a christmas party. you figure you have at least a day or two if you hole yourself in your apartment.

she links arms with you, and you two go find some people you know. you let yourself drown in the music, in the glamor of it all. you’re out on the dance floor, bobbing happily to eartha kitt, when part of you decides that you should spin, so you do. you spin and spin and spin. and it supplies you enough serotonin to last you for a few days. you wipe out, landing in a pile of “presents”. you see a red and white mass that your tipsy mind faintly recognizes as:

“santa!” you ungracefully put yourself (mostly) upright, and are about to march over to the mythical philanthropist, but you realize that is not, indeed, actually santa claus.

it’s elvis aaron presley.

you can’t let him see you. so, naturally, you run away from santa.

bea finds you in a bathroom, on the floor. “you saw him,”

“how could i not,” you sniffed, “he’s a giant and we’re wearing matching outfits.”

she nodded in sympathy, “you are,”

you sigh.

“maybe this is like, fate or something,”

“fate for what?”

“for you two to be together again. you two are perfect for each other.” bea takes a spot next to you and rubs your back.

you rest your head on her shoulder, “maybe on paper, in practice, things didn’t go so well.”

she wrapped her arms around you, rubbing your shoulder. “maybe things changed on his end.”

you start getting up, and shake your head. “he’s even bigger now.” your hand reaches for the doorknob, “c’mon we can’t hide in here forever.”

bea and you go back to rockin’ ’round the christmas tree. narrowly, you manage to avoid santa from noticing you. as it starts to get late and the energy starts to wind down, santa joins the band on the makeshift stage.

“hello, everybody.” he takes a spot on the stool in front of the mic. “i’d like to take this moment to play you a little something i wrote, called blue christmas.”

he starts, his voice melting your heart like butter on toast. as much as you wish you weren’t captivated by him, you were. him being up there with his pretty face, only feet away, makes that deep-set pain he’s left in your heart ache a little more.

“and when those blue snowflakes start falling

that's when those blue memories start calling

you'll be doing all right

with your christmas of white

but i'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue christmas”

that little fantasy you built in your head cracked. he thinks you left just because you wanted to. he is the one that feels abandoned, not you. he rewrote the story to the entire world without knowing. you escape out onto the terrance. feeling the sting of the cold winter air on your cheeks, you laugh a short, bitter laugh into the wind. you sip on your rosé a bit more, hearing heavy footsteps behind you.

“i thought i saw you mrs. claus.”

“that’s lady santa to you.” he laughs.

“my apologies, ma’am.”

“it’s alright, ‘i’m doing alright’, naturally.” elvis was quiet.

“you’re blue though,”

“you left,”

“you were always gone.”

“i was working. work is important.”

“work is important. that’s true, i’m not important.”

“i-i never said that, mama.” he uses his old nickname for you. you miss being his ‘little mama’.

“you didn’t have to, work must've been way more important than me if i felt lucky to see you one night a week.”

“is that why you left?”

your brow scrunched up and you turned to him, “you couldn’t, in your wildest imagination guess why i left. you actually thought i just impulsively left one night.” he rubs the back of your neck and you shoot the last of your wine. “when did you notice i was gone?”

“aug-august 16”

“i left on the last day of july, el.” he runs a hand through his hair, turning around a few times.

“gosh, mama, i– can’t say anything. i should have been a better man to ya.”

“i know you wanted to be, but you couldn’t.”

“yes, yes i could. i could've cancelled some shows, or at least actually come home instead of sleeping at the studio or going out with the guys.”

“okay,”

he freezes, and stares at you, “how was how i treated you okay?”

“what’s done is done, there is nothing either of us can do to undo anything. there’s nothing i can say.”

“let me make it right, mama.” he steps closer, curling a strand of your hair on his finger,

“elvis when I say ‘what's done is done’, that includes us.” you gently separate his hand from your hair and he blinks at you with his puppy dog eyes. part of you doesn’t want to say goodbye. but instead you put a palm to his chest, bridging the gap between you two and kiss his cheek. “i’ll always love you, my rockstar.”

you tuck a rogue strand behind his ear, taking your glass and your leave. you go and find bea, and link arms.

“you talked to him?” you nod and hum, “how’d it go?”

“he’ll be onto bigger and better things, and hopefully, so will i.”

[writergirl3]

⭐️FIC TEASER⭐️ 'Your Choice' ; Aaron T/Z x Fem!Reader

So, I got this ask a couple months back and feel bad that I never got back into writing the fic I'd started.

But, in seeing as the manga previews have revived us remaining 4 Townies, I thought I'd post the least shitty scrap of writing I have for this.

This is NOT a poly fic, to be clear. In a nutshell, you're Jesse's little sister (sorry nb/masc readers), and the Aarons each fall for you. The story will have two alternate endings, so you can choose who you end up with. Sound good?

If enough people like this, I'll revise it so it's g/n, but this is what I got so far. Let's get into it!

GIF by lagorditadeturningred

June 2002

“I’m just gonna say it- this is dumb.”

Robaire being wrong is a rarity not witnessed by many, and this fact still rings true as he and Tae stare up at their identically-named bandmates.

While the two Aarons were usually the poster boys of solid friendship, things between the pair had begun to go sour in recent months. Little banter-fuelled competitions had grown more serious. Irritable grumbles from Z towards his energetic friend had turned personal. And T’s fun-filled pranks had bordered on full-blown altercations.

What fuels this fire, you ask? 

Well, in truth, it’s you.

Ever since your initial encounter with your brother’s bandmates back in ‘99, the Aarons have never been able to shake off their own feelings towards you. 

Pretty much ever since they set eyes on you, you had captured their hearts. They had both been taken by your own distinctive beauty at first. But since learning more about you as a person, their affection towards you has become an all-encompassing sort. 

Like stars mapping out the night sky, moments with you clustered into constellations in each of the Aarons’ minds day and night. And, it was these memories that made them fall for you.

Like when you and T pranked Jesse, jumping out to scare him when he was throwing clay on his wheel (it went EVERYWHERE). 

Or when you ran into Z late one August evening and he taught you the ‘proper’ way to shoot hoops. 

Then, there was the time when you all blasted Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel at 2am and danced like crazy. 

Little things like this had been eating the Aarons up over the past three years, and they were both down bad. The thing is, they know that they share this commonality.

The problem that now presents itself is the rivalry that ensued between the once-friends. What had begun as a shared crush is now a full-on contention to win your heart. Only Tae and Robaire know, and while they try and keep the peace, it’s becoming harder to keep the group dynamic strong. 

It’s this feud that’s brought all of the 4 Town members, excluding Jesse, to this particular situation. T had suggested that the Aarons settle their dispute once and for all by seeing who could dangle from a basketball hoop for the longest. Whoever lost their grip first had to give you up, and the winner got to take you out.

Robaire looks up at the young men, trying to ignore the faint stench of sweat permeating the air. He stands on Z’s hoop to weigh it down, while Tae does the same for T’s.

“Shut up, R-Ro…” Z tries, and fails, to hide the struggle in his voice, his grip on the metal ring faltering.

“I think this is so cute! It’s like that scene in The Notebook-”

“-Don’t encourage them, Tae!”

“Alright, sorry, sorry…”

T and Z glare at each other, unaffected by their bandmates' conversation back on the ground. T smirks, knowing his words can get into Z’s head, easy. “I hope you got plans tonight, when I take Y/N out. Wouldn’t want you to spend it crying to Titanic.”

Z eyes the younger brunette with eyes that could rival a full-blown wildfire. “You takin’ her some place where pigs fly and unicorns shit rainbows?”

“I love unicorns!”

The three guys all deadpan Tae, who chuckles uncertainly and begins looking inanely up at the sky in the hopes of sighting some rare bird.

“How do you know Y/N even likes either of you dummies?” Robaire sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“She told me!”

“Shut up, T, no she didn’t!”

T huffs, readjusted his grip on the hoop, “Okay, maybe not. But at least I talk to her! All you do is stare at her like a dog or some shit!”

Widening his eyes in a dopey, lovestruck caricature, T impersonates Z mercilessly. If the latter didn’t have a face like thunder, Tae Young would have collapsed in a fit of uncontrollable giggles then and there.

“And how are you gonna impress her? With toilet humour and pranks?” Z spits, wishing he hadn’t made any reference to the bathroom. He’s been supporting his own weight for almost fifteen minutes now, and with the thought now in his head, he needs to pee.

In fact, he almost did just that when he, and the other boys, were startled by a familiar voice.

Well, yours, to be precise.

“What are you both doing?”

“Y/N!” the Aarons call in unison, your sudden appearance surprising them both. With a thud, they both fall to the ground in a heap.

“It’s a tie!” Tae shouts excitedly.

“A tie?” you question, quickening your approach to the scene.

Robaire and the Aarons look at Tae desperately, and he thinks on his feet. “I, uh- a Thai Silver Pheasant! Up there!”

Pointing upwards, Tae diverts your attention just long enough for the other boys to collect themselves. You frown, puzzled by what Tae is talking about. “Really?”

“Yeah! Did you miss it? Oh well, there’s always next time!” Tae rambles nervously before hastily pacing over to the house.

“Okay then…” you chuckle to yourself, before the sound of a wince takes your attention and you remember your brother’s bandmates. “You two okay?”

“I, er, I’m-”

“-Yeah, we’re good! All good!” T interrupts Z. You extend a hand out to T and he takes it with a blush and a jittery ‘thank you’.

Turning your attention to Z, your eyes widen at the small trail of blood trickling down one of his short-clad legs. “Z! You're bleeding!”

Rushing over to him, you sling your backpack onto the ground and rummage for a tissue or something to dab at the cut with with. He eyes you in a daze, slightly overwhelmed by your concern for him. When you retrieve a pack of tissues from the front pocket of your bag, you begin dabbing the graze carefully.

“T-thanks, Y/N…” Z utters sheepishly, embarrassed by your attention. You offer him a warm smile that makes his grazed knee, and the other one, weak.

T lets out a little huff of jealous annoyance, wanting your attention and care. When Jesse asks for help with unloading the suitcases from his van, though, T jumps at the chance to impress you with his strength and runs off.

You chuckle at the curly-haired boy before helping Robaire get Z to his feet. With one arm around his waist and the other holding his arm around your shoulder, Z can’t help but blush furiously as he hobbles towards the house with your help.

“T! Take them one at a time, you’ve already fallen once this morning!”

Jesse’s paternal instructions fall on deaf ears as T zooms past, gripping three suitcases somewhat-capably. He hides any struggle on his part well with the cheeky grin he flashes you on as he passes.

⭐️

So, what did y'all think? Should I keep plugging away at this and turn it into a full story?

[tobiasdrake]

Oh, shit. I just realized that Across the Spider-Verse fixed one of the biggest plot holes in the Sony Spider-Man filmology. Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse.

We all had a good laugh at Morbius over its shitty Vulture stinger. "Don't know how I got here. Has something to do with Spider-Man, I think." In a movie full of bullshit this was the most. The memory spell in No Way Home doesn't even work that way. This scene made negative sense.

Across the Spider-Verse suggests that the Kingpin's collider exploding in Into the Spider-Verse is causing tears in reality where Spider-characters from one universe just wind up transplanted into another willy-nilly. There's no rhyme or reason to it. Miguel O'Hara's had to assemble a multidimensional Spider-Man paramilitary to track down variants that get shunted into other realities and return them ASAP.

One of the characters we're shown to have been transplanted like this is Donald Glover's Aaron Davis aka Miles's Uncle Aaron aka the Prowler. The one from Spider-Man: Homecoming. He was the guy who just wanted to stick someone up, not shoot them back in time - And eventually helped Peter track down Vulture.

We see Glover's Aaron in a time cell in Miguel's base, waiting for his turn to be shipped back to his home reality.

So.

Like. Looking at that.

Maybe Toomes getting shunted into another reality because of "something to do with Spider-Man" isn't the No Way Home spell after all.

[altruistic-meme]

AFTG fic recs

Hi all! I just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite fanfics for aftg, for no real reason other than I want more people to read them and send their love to the authors :) 

Under a readmore because it got. A little long. But please enjoy!

WIPs

Dangerous Habits by LovelyLittleGrim ( @lovelylittlegrim )

Andrew has run into problems while on undercover jobs before. None of those problems were anything like the troublesome runaway that is one Nathaniel Wesninski

Aka: the fic where Andrew is undercover as a hitman for hire and Neil is the guy who hires him. Things get complicated from there.

Undercover Andrew? BAMF Neil? Hitman AU?? Absolutely. I’m in love. The story is just *chef kisses*

Chapters: 8/9

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, past rape/non-con, Drake Spear (who is his own warning), Butcher Neil, 

--

Negotiations by elesary ( @elesary )

This is what Andrew Minyard knows: his brother is dead, killed by a petty Raven prince who has never learned to keep his hands off of Andrew's things. His brother's daughters are his responsibility, a job that is made infinitely harder when their shitty grandparents want custody. Nathaniel Wesninski is a liar, but he might be the only way to avenge Aaron and protect his nieces. All Andrew has to do is watch Nathaniels - Neil's- back as he carves out his own life and identity from everyone who thinks they own him.

Andrew has always been good at upholding his end of the bargain, has he finally found someone willing to uphold theirs?

This fic has got me fucked up, honestly. I’m emotional over it. It’s fantastic.

Chapters: 11/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, attempted sexual assault, Butcher Neil,

--

the upper hand by plantelty ( @plantelty  )

Shortly after losing his mother, Neil arrives in the small town of Palmetto, South Carolina, alone in the world and with an impossible plan to carry through.

At the age of eighteen, Andrew ends up helping a boy stage his own death.

-

Just two fucked up boys learning to trust each other during the course of a summer, but also: multiple references to songs, twinyard angst (Nicky tries his best), The Plotting of Neil Josten's Gruesome Demise, and shit hitting the fan in a variety of ugly ways!

The cliffhanger has got me on the edge of my seat, but it is 100% worth the read and the wait for the last chapter!! 

Chapters: 10/11

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon typical violence, 

--

The Butcher’s House by Fire_Bear ( @fire-bear )

Andrew thought something was odd with the house the Foxes had to move into after their Athletes' House had been burnt down. He just wasn't prepared for what was actually wrong with it.

For this was a house full of monsters.

Ghost story! Ghost story! Ghost story! I literally think about this fic every other day, it’s fantastic. 

Chapters: 6/?

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: character death (major or minor is unclear), injuries, 

--

Promise of an Unbroken Boy by elesary ( @elesary​ )

Neil is caught by the police with Mary's burning body and is sent to juvie in Oakland where he is assigned to share a cell with one Andrew Doe, who promises him Exy, if only Neil will tell him all of his secrets. With no access to tinted contacts and hair dye, he agrees, it's only a matter of time until he's killed after all. What does he have to lose?

But Andrew's found someone who knows what a promise means, and he'll be damned if he lets that go without a fight.

Ngl this is definitely in my very top favorites -- I LOVE the idea of Neil and Andrew meeting pre-series, and this fic just BLEW my expectations for that plotline out of the waters

Chapters: 14/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Underage, attempted rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, 

~~~~~~~~~

Complete

The Nameless Monster by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Nathaniel Wesninski wants nothing more than to see his father dead and buried. But when his father promises him the title of The Butcher, Nathaniel quickly realizes that his destiny of following in his father's footsteps is closer than ever before.

So of course, when he gets forced to go undercover for the Baltimore police, he starts seeing what living could truly be.

-

Andrew Minyard is a newly recruited police officer for the worst precinct in Baltimore, who is dedicated on hunting down the notorious Butcher and his unnamed underling. But when Neil Josten is thrown into his midst as his civilian consultant; he starts to realize some things don't quite appear as they seem.

I love the story telling -- the secret identities, the plotting, everything.

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Butcher Neil, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced slef-harm (I believe there is a scene that is somewhat detailed on this subject), some characters also get drugged at one point, 

-- 

that’s just something people say by nanatsuyu ( @theoctopusnods )

Neil makes the mistake of stealing the wrong car. Andrew makes the mistake of offering a ride to a liar. They both make the mistake of turning the whole affair into a road trip ‘home.’

Gonna be honest; the summary does not give a big idea as to what is in store and i am SO GLAD I gave this one a try so i’m telling you that you will be too

Chapters: 24/24

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks (somewhat grahic descriptions of)

--

The Story After You by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Andrew Minyard does not understand how Riko Moriyama landed Neil Wesninski.

How the snot-nosed, small dick, rich brat, second son of the Moriyama family who also just so happened to own the largest EXY gear and merchandiser company in the world “RAVEN” - had landed smart mouthed, quick witted, stupidly blue eyed Wesninski, was beyond him. Well, unless Wesninski was a gold digger, but Andrew doubted it.

-

Or; how Andrew Minyard says he doesn't get into messy situations, until he meets Neil and suddenly he is in the most messiest possible situation ever imagined in his life - oh and also, he might be becoming a homewrecker.

Ok I am behind bc I haven’t read the final chapter of this but!! I love the story, it’s very emotional and moving, and I love the characterization in it.

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Abusive Riko/Neil, abusive relationship, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/reference child abuse, implied/referenced self-harm, graphic depictions of violence, some descriptions of injuries/scarring, 

-- 

This Complicated Life by 5a5b5p5 ( @andrewsbutterflyknife )

“This is exactly why I don’t want you and Andrew to meet,” Aaron says grumpily. “You two would get along far too well.”

Neil grins. “I just like pissing you off,” he says, “It’s not my fault your brother does such a good job at it.”

—

Neil doesn’t expect much from his Sophomore year of college, but when he becomes a waiter at the Palmetto Bistro, his life gets a whole lot more interesting. As it turns out, maintaining friendships new and old as well as navigating an interesting relationship with the head chef of the restaurant—who just so happens to be his best friend’s twin brother—is a lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be.

A much more light-hearted fic than most of the others! Includes a secret relationship, and also chef Andrew >>

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

When I Fade, Keep Me in Your Memory by demesh 

Neil Josten has a secret: he can flicker out of existence.

He can vanish with the turn of a thought; click his fingers, and suddenly he’s not there anymore. Invisible and untouchable, he becomes a living ghost.

Having promised his mother never to let his ability go, Neil teeters the line between faded and real, a person and an echo. He can’t risk getting hurt.

But then, one day, someone sees him when they shouldn’t be able to.

 A (flower-shop) AU about how a faded and lonely Neil finds it in him to become someone real.

Another fic that I need to catch up on ;; but anyway it’s amazing and I love Neil’s ability in it, it’s so well explained and well-written about

Chapters: 12/12

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

--

12 Ways to Woo a Minyard by NikNak22 ( @knickknacksandallthat )

Neil is a math nerd who, by a stroke of dumb luck, falls into a group of friends that are the closest thing to family he’s ever had. So, when he tells them about his new mysterious crush, he shouldn’t be surprised how immediately they come up with a plan to help win them over. One they insist that if Neil follows it, he’ll have them falling for him in no time. But things don’t always go to plan – or do they?

Nicky wants to set him up with someone else. Matt and Jeremy are confused but supportive. Allison and Seth offer lewd suggestions, while Dan does her best to keep everyone in line. Jean and Renee know something, Aaron doesn’t really care, and Kevin just wants Neil to join the lacrosse team.

But one thing’s for certain – whether Neil’s successful or not, everyone’s got money riding on this.

The romance-trope-filled fanfic of my dreams. Sometimes you just need a fic of pure joy -- this is that fic. 

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

finders keepers by moonix ( @annawrites ​ )

Andrew meets Nathaniel through a scavenger hunt app. As their team takes part in a hunt that sends each of them to creepy, abandoned places alone to solve clues and gain points, Andrew and Nathaniel begin a little treasure hunt of their own. The anonymity of getting to know each other in small increments, never meeting face-to-face, allows them a level of intimacy neither are used to. Meanwhile Renee’s friend Neil is acting weird whenever Andrew shows up…

This was one of the first fics I read for aftg!! And BOY what a great start!! All of the little pieces and parts that work together, and just the scavenger hunt itself is fantastic! (I also REALLY wanna know if there is an app like this out there because I would be down to do that)

Chapters: 8/8

Rating: Mature

Warnings: (these all come from the author:) “mentions of historical abuse in a mental asylum, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder and kidnapping, morbid facts, creepy abandoned places including a haunted house at a theme park with disturbing rooms, special appearance of a creepy clown doll, fatphobia and some introspection on body image/complicated relationship with food, mention of self harm scars”

-----

Scared to Live (But I’m Scared to Die) by Major_816 ( @major816 )

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

It is VERY dark, and is one of very few fics that I have actually been almost unable to read one of the scenes, so DEFINITELY pay attention to the warnings -- both these, and the ones provided for each individual chapter. I did go through the fic to collect as many warnings as I could find in the chapter warnings, but be sure to take care of yourself.

Chapters: 36/36

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: rape/non-con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, discussions of rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, graphic descritions, physical abuse, panic attacks, descriptions of injuries (often graphic), psychological warfare, dissociating, psychological torture, physical torture, use of knives, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, pain-induced delirium, rape/non-con, emotional self-separation, suicidal ideation/thoughts of suicide, emotional distress (which sums up the whole fic and also me while reading it), handcuffs/chains used as restraints, referenced/implied abuse towards animals, vomitting, begging, excessive use of painkillers, drowning, waterboarding, physical restraint, mutilation of an animal, mild hallucinations, non-con drugging, sleep deprivation, starvation, humiliation, the Butcher, 

Also one of the first fics I read and 100% my absolute favorite fic!!! Which is adfjhsd a little worrying, considering, but it is what it is. Anyway. This fic absolutely wrecked me, and while it is technically complete, there is a sequel in the works! So! But I am so so excited for the sequel, and I am working on rereading this. It’s amazing. 1000/10.

[whump-town]

Here

It’s reflexive, Derek moves his hand to the left and expects to find Aaron. To get his fingers tangled in the expensive fabric of his suit. Be met with a wall of warmth, Aaron’s curled back facing him and separating them with how tightly he’s pulled himself into his blanket (or, likely, all the blankets from the bed). Even at the table, to just put his hand on Aaron’s thigh. To throw his arm around Aaron’s shoulder. To snag him by the pants and drag him closer. To pull him down into a kiss.

There’s only empty air.

“Agent Morgan?”

When simply blinking doesn’t dislodge the sleep from his eyes, he reaches up and rubs. “Mm?” He sits up, pushes himself up on his elbow. It takes him a moment to come around, to work around the exhaustion pulling him down – calling him softly back down onto his warm, but terribly uncomfortable, cot. “Sorry,” he recognizes the nurse standing in front of him now. His eyes leave her a moment later, attention moving around the room until he finds the steadily beeping machines and Aaron right in the middle of them. With that solidified, with Aaron’s well-being mercifully held in the same balance it has been for the last six days, Derek relaxes just a bit. It’s awful never seeing any changes but he’d prefer Aaron here, alive than worse. Those are the sorts of blessings Derek has to count these days.

“Don’t apologize.” The nurse is smiling, she’s always smiling. She’s young, Derek thinks. That blissful kind of youth that comes with unbroken faith and too much trust. A part of him knows that it will break but he also prays she never knows what it’s like to have the world come shattering down around you.

Derek throws the blankets off his legs, twisting himself until he’s sitting up. He twists himself around until his feet are on the ground. “Is everything alright?’

She’s still smiling – grinning more like now, that sort of twisted up grin Derek recognizes from Jack’s teen years. A distinct I know something you don’t glee.

“He’s waking up.”

Derek can’t breathe. “What?”

She motions over her shoulder but Aaron isn’t moving. He looks the same way he had last night when Derek went to bed. He’s breathing is mechanically slow, controlled by the pace of the ventilator. His face is relaxed, he’s too sedated to even have a subconscious awareness of pain he should be feeling. His body is warmer, Derek’s fighting tooth and nail to get him enough blankets to try and ward off the chill of his body. His hands are still cold to the touch but Derek doesn’t mind holding them between his own. But he’s the same. The same as the night before. The same as last week.

“The sedatives are being lifted, by this afternoon Dr. Ford said she wanted to see him breathing on his own.”

On his own. Derek just wants to see his eyes open. Each time he tries to recall the specific brown, it gets a little further out of his reach. The memories are a little more distorted. He imagines coffee brown. Chocolate brown. Mahogany. Oak. But they’re not right.

He grows impatient quickly. Waking up should take minutes not hours. Derek skips breakfast – shitty, burnt coffee and a dry bagel aren’t worth missing a single moment he might get with Aaron. Lunch comes and goes, the nurse brings him a sandwich but he picks at it. His attention is on Aaron. His hands are starting to flex, he responds minutely when Derek lifts his cold fingers to his mouth. Holding them there between his own hands and blowing warm air on them until they’re warm again.

Derek stands out of the way when the extraction happens. He’s seen this process so many times he’s certain he could do it himself. Deflating the balloon. Extracting the curved tube. Derek itches to be closer, he takes one daring step before he’s told to come. Trying to catch Aaron’s wild eyes as he gags and wheezes but by the time the nurse can ease Aaron back onto the bed, an oxygen canal under his nose, he’s already asleep again.

“He’ll sleep for a while.”

Sleep.

Not sedated. He’s sleeping.

“He’s exhausted, Agent Morgan, but he’d probably still like it if you kept talking to him.” She can see how devastated he is to have missed Aaron awake but he wasn’t awake. He was not even aware of what they were saying, for all it’s going to matter to Aaron Derek will still have that moment with him. “He knows you’re here,” she assures him. “You don’t want to leave him now.”

Derek reads to him for some time, they’re nearly through The Catcher in the Rye.

He’s still impatient. There’s a familiar repetition about these things and Derek can’t rest, he can’t calm down until they have fulfilled the last step. For that sacred, safe moment when Aaron’s eyes open and he smiles, the first word out of his mouth is always the same “Derek.” So badly he wants to hear Aaron say his name. And he’s been met with only silence.

Derek raises Aaron’s left hand to his lips, kissing the back of his rough fingers as he goes about the methodical process of rubbing warmth into them. Aaron hums. The noise is so startling Derek nearly drops his hand but once he’s recovered, Derek leans closer. “Aaron?” Derek presses Aaron’s hand to his chest, against his thundering heart. “Aaron, can you hear me?” He’s not supposed to push, Aaron's still exceptionally weak but they need this.

Aaron hums again, a sleepy sound Derek’s used to coming underneath several layers of blankets.

“Open your eyes you silly fool.” Derek’s on the verge of crying, trying hard now to refrain from pet names. Because if utters any sort of them he knows he’ll sob. He’ll come undone.

His response is another hum, Aaron’s fingers closing over Derek’s. He pulls in a shallow breath, eyelashes glued together as he fights to open them.

“I’m right here,” Derek promises, squeezing their hands.

Aaron’s half-lidded eyes find him and he opens his dry mouth but Derek doesn’t give him the chance to speak. He steals his name right off Aaron’s dry lips. Aaron smiles, his lips just slightly upturned but Derek can see how easily it goes up to his eyes. And there it is, Derek knows, that brown he hadn’t been able to recall so easily just a moment ago. The very best color. “Say it,” Derek asks. His own voice is rough, the tears stinging his eyes boiling over. Derek’s holding him, cradling Aaron’s head in his palm, but his head still rocks loosely in Derek’s grip.

Aaron swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing and his eyes sliding out of focus, landing someplace just over Derek’s shoulder. Gently, Derek slides his thumb over Aaron’s cheekbone and he comes back to the surface, his attention just barely held there between them. His eyes slide shut, too heavy and too weak to keep them open any longer. His lips upturn again, just one corner, and he swallows again trying to wet his throat enough to make it work. He feels Derek squeezes his fingers again, encouraging him. He turns his face up into Derek’s palm.

“Derek.”

The dam breaks. Derek curls down, pressing their forehead together. His tears fall down onto Aaron’s face and he can faintly feel Aaron trying to comfort him. His strength fleeting, his hand trembling in Derek’s grip but his hands still pressed in around Derek’s to return the touch. “I’m so sorry,” Derek whispers.

Aaron doesn’t know why. He can hardly place where he is right now. His aches and pains are not centered. His mind is wandering.

“Sleep.” Derek can see through Aaron’s fight, how valiantly he’s trying to stay awake for his sake. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Aaron’s face turns bitter, a twist that Derek knows all too well. “I know,” he rasps. His voice is too weak, breathy and his pace still concerningly pale, but he’s annoyed. Derek can hear how ridiculous Aaron thinks Derek’s comment is. But his eyes shut. He’s too tired for silly arguments.

“I love you,” Derek whispers, kissing Aaron’s forehead. This time his response isn’t even a simple hum. Aaron’s fingers lose their grip, his arm limp in Derek’s grip.

[the-modernmary]

to be enough || aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: During a movie night with your boyfriend Aaron, you accidentally stumbled onto his old wedding video, and it makes you wonder if you could ever compete with his first love?

A/N: This was an anonymous request, thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!! It’s my first request and it was so much fun to write!! I love soft Hotch so, so much. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I was sick on and off for like two weeks straight, it was a whole thing. I hope you like this!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“I’ll make popcorn and open the wine, you pick the movie. We’ll meet back on the couch in ten minutes,” Aaron said quickly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before making his way to his kitchen.

  You giggled at your boyfriend’s eagerness as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. Truth be told, you couldn’t blame him, though. It was rare that the two of you ever really got the chance to just hang out at his apartment. Whenever Aaron was home, he liked to spend as much free time with his son as possible, which you completely understood. So between spending time with Jack and Aaron being away on cases, you lived for these small moments of alone time and domesticity. 

  “You might regret letting me pick the movie, my love,” you called to him jokingly as you sat down in front of his TV, looking for where the remote was hiding. “I am very loyal to my early 2000’s chick flicks.”

  The sound of Aaron’s laughter floating through his apartment made your heart swell. He had never been the tough, FBI unit chief around you, but he was also rarely so carefree and light. There was always a shield around him, especially with the way he would carefully choose his words so as to not give away too much of himself. He was always so guarded and unwavering.

  Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen, hair falling in his eyes. “In the interest of honesty, I’m fully planning on moving this to the bedroom before we even get halfway through the movie,” he admitted, his voice carrying even over the sound of popcorn in the microwave.

You giggled again and shook your head fondly, unable to stop the smile spread across your face at his words. Seeing him be so playful was like a gift — always a surprise, but never unwelcome. You lived for those small glimpses of the man you knew he was.

  Aaron went back to choosing the perfect movie night wine and you settled on the couch, turning on the TV and ready to pick out the goofiest, most feel-good movie you could find. Before you could pull Netflix up, however, the DVD that was already in the television began playing.

  The film was grainy and the camera work was shaky at best, so you weren’t sure exactly what you were watching at first. There was a church in the background and men dressed in nice suits. Kids dressed in their Sunday best ran around in the grass. The camera panned over to a couple who were clearly getting married, going by the big white dress the woman was wearing.

  The camera zoomed in on the couple and your heart dropped to your stomach, because there, right in the center of the screen was Aaron. It was a much younger version of him, of course, probably law school, but it was definitely him. 

  Oh god, this was his wedding video. Which meant that the beautiful, blushing bride wrapped in his arms and making him throw his head back in laughter was Haley.

  Aaron had told you about Haley and everything that had happened between the two of them right up to her murder pretty early on in your relationship with him, but then it was never really mentioned again. But you had heard the whispers on nights out with his team, listened to them all gossip amongst themselves about how “I never thought Hotch was ever going to move on?” .

  Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to change the film before Aaron came back into the living room, you couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination. The Aaron on the screen was so different from the man you had come to love.

  You watched as the film Aaron spun Haley in circles and peppered her entire face in kisses. The entire time, they never once stopped touching each other, even if it was something as simple as holding each other’s hands. Aaron kept glancing over at Haley with the biggest heart eyes you had ever seen, and it was nothing like the way Aaron had ever looked at you. Even when the couple was supposed to be paying attention to the people giving speeches around them, Haley and Aaron kept sneaking glances at each other, mouthing “I love you” like it was the only thing they could think to say.

  Aaron looked so happy and so free and it was so unlike the man in the other room. In the year and a half you had been dating him, you had never seen Aaron with a smile so big. He never gave you PDA so freely, and it wasn’t something you realized you even wanted until you saw him do it with somebody else. Suddenly, you wanted to feel young and reckless and dizzy in love the way he looked back in the film.

  It was unfair to ask him to live every day with you feeling like it was his wedding day, and you knew it. Still, something stirred inside of you that made you crave for Aaron to look at you like that, even just once.

  What you had with Aaron now was safe and a certifiable “adult” relationship. Not to say it wasn’t nice, and there was plenty of passion and fun in it. All of your friends constantly expressed how envious they were that you had found somebody who was so stable yet still unpredictable and could sweep you off your feet with romantic dates under the stars. Being with Aaron felt like home for you, and you had always thought that he felt the same, although now you weren’t sure. It had never occurred to you that Aaron may not have ever really gotten over his first love.

  The microwave beeped, signaling that the popcorn was done and that Aaron would be back in the living room at any second, and you quickly switched the TV to Netflix, clicking whatever movie popped up first, not even bothering to look at the title. 

  Just in time, too, because not long after, Aaron made his way over to the couch, precariously carrying a bowl of popcorn, two wine glasses, and a bottle of a sweet red wine that had become a go-to for you both. He generally preferred red wine, but you hated the dryness of it and basically only drank sweet, dessert wines, so when the two of you found this one, it had seemed like fate. Most of your relationship with him felt like fate, honestly.

  You forced yourself not to think about the fact that Aaron was happily drinking white wine in the wedding video.

  “Either the definition of ‘chick flick’ has changed drastically,” Aaron started, plopping down next to you. “Or Mad Max is very different from what I remember.”

  “I decided to change it up, put on a movie neither of us will be invested in,” you lied, desperately fighting to keep your voice even. “That way we can move right into the bedroom portion of the night.”

  “I like the way you think, sweetheart,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. His thigh was pressed against yours, but even then, he felt a million miles away from you.

  It was unfair to get so worked up over this whole wedding video thing, and you knew that. His time with Haley had ended long before he had even met you, and logically, you knew that people could fall in love multiple times. Still, that didn’t quell the anxiety that was bubbling in your stomach, making you queasy.

  Why was he even watching that video, anyway? Did he often sit right there on the very couch you were cuddling with him on and rewatch the happiest day of his life? After a date with you, did he ever come home conflicted about his own emotions and feeling guilty for moving on, and go down memory lane to remind himself who his real true love was? 

  You kept thinking about how giddy he had looked in that video, and how easy it had seemed for him to be with her. And Haley… God, how could you compete?

  She was stunning, no doubt about it, with her blonde hair and bright eyes that shined, even through shitty 90’s video camera quality. The pink on her soft-looking lips only seemed to make Aaron want to kiss them more and more, maybe to see if he could smudge her lipstick. It never once budged, though, because of course it didn’t. She seemed too perfect to have faded lipstick on her wedding day. She had floated across the makeshift dance floor, like a fucking Disney princess leaving a trail of fairy dust and sunshine everywhere she went. Everything about her seemed soft and kind and good, all things you had never once associated with yourself.

  It was no surprise that Aaron had decided he was going to marry her from the first time he saw her, as he had said in his vows. She was everything you could have ever wanted to be, and clearly, she was everything Aaron had ever wanted.

  Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your rapid descent into crippling insecurity. “I can hear you thinking from here, honey.”

  You took a long sip of your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m just concentrating on the movie,” you lied.

  “The movie you picked specifically so that we didn’t have to pay attention?” he retorted, eyebrows raised. Really, you should have known better than to try and give him such a blatant lie. Aaron reached over you to grab the remote and paused the movie, placing his hand lightly on your knee. “What’s going on?”

  How could you even explain what you were feeling? It definitely wasn’t jealousy, although you almost wished it was. At least with jealousy, you could push it to the side as an awful, gross feeling that comes from years of internalized misogyny and being told that other women are inherently competition for the attention of men. You could deal with that feeling.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Despite Aaron’s obvious devotion to her, you found it hard (and a little twisted, if you were being completely honest) to be jealous of a woman who was violently murdered in her own home in front of her young child. Besides, jealousy would imply that you and Haley were on somewhat equal ground, which you so clearly weren’t. 

  Haley was his high school sweetheart, the love of his life, the woman he had chosen to have children with, and you…

  Well, at one point you thought you could have been that, too, but now you were faced with the fear that you were nothing more than a person to fill the hole in his heart that Haley had left. Even worse, however, was the sinking feeling that you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be enough to fill it completely. 

  “It’s stupid,” you stuttered out, avoiding Aaron’s eyes, which were so full of concern. That was the worst part. It would be one thing if Aaron didn’t love you, but he did love you. Just not in the way he loved her. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

  “I—” You cut yourself off with a sigh and shifted on the couch so that you were facing him. “Am I enough for you?”

  Aaron looked about as taken aback by your question as you felt. You hadn’t meant to burst through the gate with that particular insecurity.

  “Are you enough for me?” he repeated slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like the question didn’t make any sense. In all honesty, it probably didn’t. “If you mean ‘am I happy with you’, then yes. Incredibly. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  That should have made you feel better, but it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on your sweater. “I saw your wedding video,” you admitted shamefully. It felt like you were a little kid getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “And, I don’t know… You looked so happy and so… alive with her. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime love, Aaron. I’m never going to be able to be that for you.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, and for a moment you were worried that he was going to get angry at you for watching the video. Maybe you had tainted that one happy memory for him. But the lines on his face softened just a bit and he covered your hand with both of his.

  “Have you always felt like this?” he asked cautiously, attempting to keep all emotion off his face. “Like you’re not… enough?”

  You shrugged. “Sometimes. If I think about it too much. Especially when we first started dating. But never this intense. I guess since I had only heard stories of her, it was almost like she didn’t exist? But now that I’ve seen her and how you looked at her… I love you so much and I want you to be happy, but I’m scared I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line, but this has been eating me up from the inside for a while now and I—”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Aaron cut you off mid-ramble, and you took a shuddering breath. Guilt was written all over him, which made you want to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again. “Have I done anything to make you think I’m unhappy?”

  “No, of course not! You’ve been nothing but wonderful. But I’m not Haley. I can’t make you as happy as she made you. And maybe this is selfish of me, but it hurts to know that you don’t love me the way you loved her.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, but he still held on tightly to your hand. “I didn’t think you would want me to,” he said, and now it was your turn to be confused.

  You could practically see the gears turning in Aaron’s mind as he tried to find the right words to verbalize the floodgate of emotions that had just opened. Being vulnerable and open about his feelings wasn’t something he was very comfortable with, and it definitely didn't come easy for him. The fact that he was trying and willing gave you some comfort.

  “What I mean to say is…” he backtracked. “You’re right. You’re not Haley and the way I loved her is different from the way I love you. I love you differently because you’re different. And I’m different now, too. But different doesn’t mean less, and it never has. I would never want you to think that you’re just some consolation prize.”

  He was looking at you with such intensity and sincerity that you could have cried. “It’s just that when I realized you had been rewatching your wedding, I kept thinking that maybe she was your one love,” you explained nervously. “I don’t know what that leaves me.”

  Aaron took your hand that he was holding and moved it so that it rested on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. “My love isn’t finite. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

  You melted into his touch, and it was like the sun came peeking through the storm clouds. He didn’t have the exact same expression that 25-year-old him did on the wedding video, but it was something close. Maybe even something more. It was warm and inviting and felt like coming home after a long day. 

  “You’ve been nothing but the picture-perfect boyfriend,” you assured. “This is all me and my own insecurities. I saw that you had been watching the video and I just… spiraled, I guess.”

  Aaron mindlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hand. “I should probably explain why I was watching it, then.”

  “God, no, you don’t owe me any explanations for what you—”

  “I was showing Jack,” Aaron interrupted, his voice soft. “He doesn’t remember her that much, and he definitely doesn’t remember when we were married. Most of his memories are of fighting or divorced parents. I wanted to show him that his parents loved each other.”

  Your face went hot as embarrassment spread through you. “Wow, that makes perfect sense and I feel like an idiot,” you breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he stood up from the couch. “You’re not an idiot, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “Come on, let’s get changed into something a little nicer.”

  You looked down in confusion as your movie night outfit. “Why?”

  A mischievous glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes as he bent down and gave you another kiss, one much less chaste than the one before. “Because,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m going to take you on a date and show you just how much I love you.”

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.4k 

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg​, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week. 

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent.  He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you.  Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.  

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

[writergirl3]

4 Town Ask Game!

I originally reblogged this from @whumptimebaby but thought creating a separate post would make it show up better on y’all’s feeds.

Here’s the link to the original post! 🧡

💗Current Favourite Member?

Aaron Z!

💛First Favourite Member?

Aaron T🧡

🎵Favourite 4*Town Song?

U Know What’s Up

😁Favourite Relationship? (Platonic or Romantic)

Jesse and Z (JessZ) platonically

🌹Share a Robaire headcanon

Super niche but okay; they did a production of Hairspray at Ro and Z’s high school and when Robaire got the role of Seaweed, Z was pissed as hell because he had a crush on the girl playing Penny😂

💭What is your favourite memory related to 4*Town?

When I first fell into this fandom; after a really shitty few months of personal struggles, I found so much comfort in 4 Town, I can’t even explain. My mind was suddenly filled with them and not the other difficult stuff I’d been dealing with 🧡

🛍If you could have any 4*Town merch, real or fake, what would you want?

All of their CDs with all of the music!

🎨Share a Jesse headcanon

He’s Jewish and found out through taking one of those cool DNA tests. It means a lot to him because he doesn’t know his biological parents, but found out this fact about his heritage and is determined to honour it 💙

✍️Do you create art? What kind? (Plug it!)

Nooo, unless writing counts? My masterlist is here…

👀 Do you have any unpopular opinions? What are they?

That the T/Z dynamic is…kinda overrated…

*runs and hides*

🕊Share a Tae headcanon

He’s an only child! Joining 4 Town was a big deal and he had to get used to the idea of being close to a group of people, but 4 Town are his brothers and nothing will change that 💕

💅If you were in charge of making a Turning Red spinoff about 4*Town, what would you do?

Behind the scenes about them with individual interviews! Plus some footage of them meeting fans (Mei and co.) BECAUSE IT’S WHAT WE DESERVE. Like a bonus scene where they asked for help with the ritual…

🎧What are some songs that remind you of 4*Town?

Baby One More Time reminds me so much of Z it’s ridiculous.

🧢Share an Aaron T headcanon

He’s half Brazilian, half Sicilian! It explains a lot about his personality honestly😂

🤠Which member do you think you'd get along with the best?

Probably…Jesse? As a friend! But Z romantically *coughs*

🧜‍♀️If 4*Town were to release another album, what concept would you want it to be?

Self love/body positivity!

🏀Share an Aaron Z headcanon

He’s a twin! He has a twin sister named Arielle and she’s very vibrant and extroverted. Although he loves her, living in her shadow has made him as shy as he is.

😐Which member is your nemisis (affectionate)?

T, in the best possible way! I’m such a neat freak and I know that all that would go out the window after 5 mins with him…

🩰What is something you love about the 4*Townie community?

Our passion for 4 Town! It’s pretty special 🥰

[themonsterunderthebed]

19, 20, 38 :)

19. what is your favorite album art from one of your favorite artists?

oooh i LIKE this one. shit okay this is not my real answer this is an honorable mention because i used transcendental youth by the mountain goats in my answer to an anon already but that album art is SOLID. tmg honestly often has good fuckin album art (see: dark in here)

okay here's the first thing that popped to mind after transcendental youth

from the album voyage by hms revenge. band has not existed for a Long Time and it turns out one of the guys from it is a shitty shitty dude but i remember being given that CD and being IN LOVE with the album art. honestly blown up on my screen here it looks less impressive than it is in my memory but i was SO into it. the color, the shading, the melancholy whimsy i somehow get from it. i could just stare at the cd case for like five minutes. also i gotta say even a decade later despite everything i still listen to this ep sometimes, it is good music

20. SHOW ME A PICTURE OF ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE ARTISTS. RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO SEE THEM.

OKAY i am SO torn on this question bc i wanna keep it Fresh and Exciting but i also am a simple girl who just really loves hozier and the mountain goats. u know i used my Fresh and Exciting credit in the last answer of this question so here's john darnielle for you i'm going to a tmg concert soon and i am beyond excited

why can this middle-aged nerd look directly into my soul

38. did one of your favorite bands/artists do a cover???? tell me about it!!!

YES okay we're veering into musicals territory bc musicals were my first love and i love them still. i listened to hadestown on a loop for like three weeks recently and eva noblezada is. my queen. my love. i am in love with this woman and she will never know i exist and i swear to god it is a terrible tragedy. anyway she sang "huddled masses" by shaina taub and i swear to god my heart broke and was healed simultaneously. i just put it on right now and had to stop because i couldn't type and listen to it at the same time because it demands full attention. god i'm obsessed. sidenote she also did a cover of take me to church that MURDERS me

okay i know the question is just for one cover but just REAL quick i gotta throw aaron tveit's cover of creep in here too because even in the shitty quality recording i am so obsessed with everything about it. his voice control. his acting the song (the eyes! he makes his eyes dead and resigned and tragic and then brings them to life? i can't deal). the way he DEVASTATES half a verse with his full vocal capacity and then brings it RIGHT back down to dead without any warning. it's just too goddamn good okay

thank you so much for the opportunity to ramble at length about random albums and artists, i honestly had SO much fun doing this!!!

the ask game, for the curious: https://themonsterunderthebed.tumblr.com/post/696915985297457152