#I wonder if my answers changed. I think they did

[cognitiveoverload]

Rejection (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Being Hotch’s favorite is hard, but when he suddenly asks you out, you don’t really know if you’d like to make things harder for yourself.

tags: fem!tech analyst!reader

note: There will be more parts, not necessarily in chronological order. What do you think, what situations will they find themselves in? Send an ask with your idea, and let’s see what will happen.

At first, it was just a casual and genuinely innocent observation from Spencer. “Have you noticed that Hotch calls only you if he needs something?” he asked one day as he sat between you and Penelope in your little den.

But then this comment spread through the BAU like wildfire, making everyone think back of all the times their boss needed information, and look at that, they all remembered the same detail–it’s not just the fact he was always calling you, it was the fact he always called you by your first name.

And that’s how the constant teasing began. Derek, Emily, JJ and Penelope tormented you, with Spencer occasionally joining to spit out some facts about the both of you, while Rossi targeted Hotch as far as you knew. It was mortifying, really, but you got used to it.

What you still can't get used to is the change in your boss’ behavior. Recently he’s been different, although you can’t quite put a finger on what it is that changed. Sure, maybe he shows up a little more often in your office, strictly when Penelope isn’t around, and he brings you coffee when you’re working late or arrive a little too early as he does.

“How are you holding up?”

You turn your swivel chair around to look at Hotch, who’s standing in the door with an almost worried expression on his face. He sent Penelope home a few hours ago when a case affected her too much, and now apparently it was time for another wellness check in your little office. It’s hard to miss the way he’s flexing his fingers, a clear sign that he’s nervous, although you’re not a profiler, so you remain silent before you say something stupid.

Thinking about his question, you realize one thing. “It didn’t really affect me. Does this mean something’s wrong with me?” you ask him.

His lips part as he takes a shallow breath and thinks about what you just said. For a moment you think he’ll not give you an answer, but then he sits on the edge of your desk and watches you with a small smile. “It only means you’re tough. Look, you said, ‘It didn’t really affect me,’ which tells me it did affect you, just not as intensely as it did Garcia for example,” he explains kindly.

Nodding, you look down at your hands in your lap, but your gaze rises when he bumps his leg into your thigh. You expect him to say something, but Hotch remains silent, and he even acts like he didn’t do anything at all. There is one little thing that’s different, though. That barely visible smirk, the one you’ve all seen before.

Times like this it’s hard to comprehend the extremes in his behavior. He can act like this, so kind and supportive, but he can play rough too, especially when he loses control. And times like that, like a few days ago when he yelled at an agent who tried to take a case from him, you can’t help but think about how he could yell at you any time with you even thanking him.

Because, as pathetic as it might sound, an angry Hotch is simply irresistible. You probably have some issues that should be analyzed, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

“I often wonder how you all can do this every single day. Penelope told me to brace myself when I arrived, but… It’s hard sometimes,” you admit quietly. “Yet, there are cases that don’t really make me feel anything. I can’t really wrap my head around that.”

His brown eyes soften in sync with his expression, and then his lips curl into a smile. “You’re a good person, never forget that. Not feeling anything might be your brain’s way of protecting you. Either way, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he tells you as he stands up.

You nod, then return to your computer once he’s heading to the door. But then the sound of footsteps suddenly dies, and when you turn around to see if he has just disappeared into thin air, you find him watching you with a thoughtful look. Your brows furrow in confusion, but you don’t say anything, you just wait for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks casually.

It seems like an innocent, regular question between co-workers. The members of the BAU often team up in pairs or bigger groups to grab something, even Hotch joins them for a drink in a bar or dinner in some restaurant nearby. But he has never, ever gone out to eat with someone alone. Maybe with Rossi, but that doesn’t count.

So, it’s no wonder you have to think about the offer. You would be on thin ice, the team already has a little too much fun with the fact Hotch is playing favorites with you. If you have dinner with him alone, they might think you’ve been in some secret relationship all along.

In the end, the rational–or maybe rather paranoid–side of your brain makes the final decision. “Thanks, but I’d rather go home after I finish this,” you say, pointing at your computer.

He nods, and you begin to think he’s about to leave, but then he gulps and takes a deep breath, as if he’s gathering the strength or courage to say whatever’s on his mind. “I have paperwork that can’t wait, but I can give you a ride home after I’m done,” he offers, and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify.

“No need, I’ll be fine, but thanks anyway,” you tell him with a forced smile.

The last thing you need and want is Hotch taking you home. He means well, you know that, but you can’t risk being seen by someone who could easily start a rumor. The problem is, he’s almost as old as your dad, so people would talk about your nonexistent daddy issues, and he’s your boss, which would only make things worse.

So far the whole joke about being his favorite is something that stayed within the team, but if it gets out and reaches HR, you’re both done. You don’t want that, but not because of yourself. Hotch is ambitious, he’s insanely good at office politics, and if he wants to be promoted, he can’t be involved in such scandals.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sigh that leaves his lips. He looks almost disappointed, which is something you don’t really understand, because you can’t remember anything that could be even remotely rude. What is his problem? Or is there something he wants to talk about, something he wants to get off his chest?

Before you know it, he closes the door and walks back to you. “I’ve been making offers, and you turn down each and every one of them without hesitation. Why?” You can’t help but give him a confused look, because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Well, you know, but why does it bother him? “Is it because we would be alone?”

“It’s just… Wouldn’t it be weird?” you ask.

He inhales and exhales slowly before he suddenly crouches in front of you. “Look, there is a chance it will be weird, yes, but why don’t we give it a shot to see, huh? Come on, just you and me. If you’re afraid someone we both know will see us, we can go somewhere away from the usual crowd.”

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, observing the look in his eyes, the small smile that makes your heart melt, and you simply can’t get yourself to say no to him. “Why?” you ask, although you know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you,” he says with a boyish smile.

Gulping, you nod. A date. Aaron Hotchner wants to go on a date with you. But he’s your boss, if you started a relationship, there would be the danger of the aftermath of a breakup. Would you really like to risk it? You love this job, you love this team, you love Penelope, losing them wouldn’t be worth it.

You lick your lips as you push your chair back to build some distance. “I really have to get back to work now, and I’m sure Jack would be happy if you got home before bedtime,” you say, even though it hurts to turn down the invitation.

Hotch lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up. “If you change your mind… you know. Good night.”

“Good night.”

[hrrtshape]

congrats on your shift emmaaaa!!!!! you spent 15 days!! in your dr!!and only over an hour passed by here?!?!?!! how weird does it feel like to come back to find out that time in here didn't seemed to move but you spent literal days!!! in another life!! time is indeed an illusion but still the fact that in this cr 'an hour passed' I just wanna know if did it affect you in any way????

hi omg !!! just to clarify: when i shifted, i think it was about 1 in the morning in my cr and i woke up back in my dr at 12 am !! so technically i was out for 12 hours !!!

and to answer your question. . . will you be the same after shifting?

so i've been back for about two days as of right now, and....even though that amount of time may be insignificant, i can already tell you a confident hypothesis. the short answer: no. the long answer: also no, but with more syllables and a rapidly dissolving sense of self.

so !! i was gone for 15 days. two weeks and a spare. a neat little holiday from here, where time drags its feet like an exhausted child. and then, i came back. i came back, and everything was waiting for me exactly as i left it, except i wasn’t quite the same girl who left.

it's like stepping off a plane after a long-haul flight. your body is technically in the same time zone as your passport, but your soul is somewhere over the atlantic, clutching a complimentary orange juice and debating the morality of artificial lighting. you walk through the arrivals gate and expect the air to smell different. you expect your bed to swallow you whole the way it used to. but nothing accommodates the fact that you have changed.

you’re not just slipping between worlds; you’re shedding skins, trading selves. you spend days, minutes, hours, seconds, whatever being someone who fits perfectly into another life, someone whose name rolls off other people's tongues like a prayer or a curse, someone whose laughter is recognised in rooms that have never existed here. and then you blink. you’re back. but that other you, the one who thrived elsewhere... they doesn’t slot back into this reality so easily. they lingers.

maybe you come back expecting the world to have noticed your absence. maybe you expect your room to exhale, relieved at your return. but the walls are indifferent. your reflection blinks at you, unimpressed. and that realisation slithers in, slow and nevertheless the truth: everything is the same except for me.

you try to re-inhabit your old routines, but they fit strangely now, like a coat that shrunk in the wash. the coffee tastes different. the music grates. you catch yourself reaching for things that don’t exist here. names that no one knows. habits that belong to someone else. you were gone for this significant amount of time, but some part of you stayed behind. or worse. some part of there came back with you.

and the worst part?? you start to wonder if you should shift back just to feel real again.

you are real. both of you. all of you. every version of you that has ever existed, whether here or there, whether draped in silks or school uniforms or bloodied war paint. you are not less for having left. and you are not wrong for feeling dislocated now.

will you be the same after shifting back? no. but maybe that’s the point. maybe the girl who came back is supposed to be different. maybe she’s meant to carve a new shape, one that includes everything she’s seen, everything she’s felt, everything she refuses to forget.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s how you learn to exist here again. not as the person you were, but as the person who knows there is more.

is this a vent? yes.

[energ00n]

Omg the post about Sentinel, I am now dying to know his story and how he plays a part in all this!

Although, gonna go on another nerd rant here. I can't help but wonder what happened to Sentinel? Sure, he's an egotistical asshat but like, something probably went wrong, probably Zeta did something or Sentinel was his own downfall.

Like, one thing I noticed, including the older post of Sentinel, is how he looks at Zeta. Like, in his younger days, he seemed bright, eager, happy, and probably took pride in being an Apprentice of Zeta.

Yet, seeing him as a Prime and noticing how he looks at Zeta with no interest & with a hint of disdain, almost like he resents him in a way, makes me think about the possibilities of what went wrong? Did Zeta do something? Did Sentinel just felt the need to be on top of the Food Chain? Did others or someone in particular hurt Sentinel? What if Zeta did what D-16 did by finding Sentinel "Insignificant", or maybe it's the other way around with Sentinel finding Zeta "Insignificant"?

Who knows, but either way, it's quite a very interesting side story that needs to be told more...right after we get MegOp out of the way with their soon to be divorce.

(Sorry if you answered this stuff already though)

Oh never apologize I LOVE reading analysis on my work, makes me feel super appreciated ❤️

I won’t reveal too much details but yes, Sentinel used to be very earnest and quite pure, the environment changed him, zeta changed him and he changed himself. Even now as a Prime, he’s still being molded and it’s an uncomfortable spot for him. There was no “Insignificant” moment that happened, Zeta doesn’t struggle with his affection for Sentinel, not externally

[hiyukikagari]

i am still losing my mind thinking about the seitei war lore drop.

@seventyeight-moose clocked earlier that the timeline of events we got this chapter is likely abridged from a more propagandistic version of the story, and i’m inclined to agree. it seems all too morally convenient that japan’s enemy was an invading force from a magic island, where its inhabitants were intrinsically magical, resilient, and malicious. i’m willing to believe there was an invasion, but less so that it happened unprovoked. i can’t help but wonder if there was some inspiration drawn from japan’s colonial history with the ainu people.

with that in mind, it is FASCINATING that their downfall, the datenseki which created the enchanted blades, came from their own island. is this the origin of sorcery in japan? maybe not from the war itself, but sometime prior? what was kunishige doing to the datenseki that made it bypass the shokoku immunity? how did they retrieve the datenseki in the first place? why is it native only to that island?

hopefully we get some answers sooner rather than later, but who can think about all that when iori is breaking our hearts!!!

i’m kinda glad she passed out when she did because that girl needs to decompress. can you imagine having a blind spot in your memory for 3/4 of your life, conscious of something in your own mind denying you that memory, and then it’s THAT?

hokazono’s paneling really shines around iori this chapter. in particular, the callbacks to both times iori cast judgment towards chihiro (a killer for better or worse), juxtaposed with the dawning realization that she’d be walking in the shadow of her father’s body count for the rest of her life.

it really drives home how all of this, the seitei war, enchanted blades, hishaku, etc. ripples through the lives of the people around them. people like char, or tenri, fuck even sojo suffered because of their proximity to the datenseki and enchanted blades. nobody comes out unscathed, which makes me want so SO desperately to see iori beat those odds somehow.

but of course, that probably won’t happen, and she’ll end up face to face with seiichi and one way or another will change her life irrevocably for a second time.

i miss hakuri. i think he’d be a nice presence for iori right now.

[messrsrarchives]

Hi Robyn. I appreciate you taking the time to always articulate your thoughts on Rowling and topics like that. I was wondering if you have thoughts on this or an answer to this question:

In a recent post you said things like "there's no ethical way to engage" and that you're trying to do "the least amount of harm possible." A few years ago, I believed these things very literally and believed it was completely immoral to engage in HP at all or engage in the fandom at all, and therefore I did not. Now obviously my beliefs have changed and I no longer believe it's so immoral I can't interact with it, and obviously neither do you or any of the rest of us. Are you able to articulate why? If there's no ethical way to engage, how do you justify being in the fandom? If you're trying to do the least amount of harm possible, do you believe you're still doing harm by being in the fandom and how do you justify that? If this is all inherently unethical and harmful, why are we doing it? How is it morally justifiable to be in the HP fandom at all, to post about it and therefore "promote" it? How do you justify to yourself being in the fandom?

I don't know the answer to that, and since you're someone who often has thoughts on this sort of subject I hope you are able to articulate this in some way that makes sense. I know it's a big question that may not even really have an answer, but I would like to know your thoughts or feelings about it if you'd like to answer.

Secondly, have you ever written up one single list along the lines of "things I believe we should not do"? Like listing it all out in one post: don't watch the hbo show even if you have a subscription, don't post about the show, don't comment on fancasts' posts, don't spend money on merch, don't post merch even if you didn't pay for it, and so on.

Thank you so much <3

HIII !!! always here to yap about these things <33 this is going to be so long i'm sorry !

i think one of my pinned videos on tiktok talks about guilt. there's so much guilt for engaging here and i know that i'm not the only one who, not only feels that, but feels as though it's a lot heavier recently. regardless of how you're engaging, we're promoting her universe and we are complicit, and there's so much guilt that comes with that.

but i think sometimes guilt is useful. i think there's a certain amount of guilt in this scenario that,,, i don't know? makes you better?? i think if you feel a bit guilty for being here, then you're aware and you're more likely to be conscious about your engagement. i think if you're not feeling at least the slightest bit guilty for being here, chances are you're unaware about the effects (whether direct or not) and you're too comfortable. we see a lot of people say "well i'm queer she hates me anyway" or "well i read stories she would hate" or "this fandom is everything she hates" etc etc as if our mere existence here is,,, an act of protest? but i don't see it as that. i don't see me engaging here as an act of protest, i see everything else as one.

and i guess that's why i came back to these spaces. i was told about ATYD by a friend and i already knew the basics about JKR, so my first action was to reread the books for the first time in years and try to see if anything read differently - a lot more stood out because i was more aware, and i spent a solid two weeks just doing research and thinking "okay, if i go into this, what do i need to do?"

at that point, all i thought i had to do was boycott and not put the same ideals into fanfiction, but it's a lot more intense than that. there's the risk of promoting a fic of someone who doesn't stand with us, or of commenting on something in a promoting way, or of showing off old merch and not specifying etc etc - there's a lottt of hidden ways we promote her without realising. that's also why i don't tend to talk About the books unless i'm recalling canon information for a plotline. or the movies unless i'm doing the same.

i think where you say "how do you justify being in the fandom" the most important word there for me is You.

there's the basics, of course: don't profit her, don't post things that profit her, don't perpetuate her ideals, don't promote harry potter in random comment sections, don't talk about the reboot even if you aren't watching it etc etc.

and then everything else is You. once you've got the basics of ethical (as much as possible) engagement, the justification part comes down to you personally. what do you need to do? what will make it feel safer for you? what will make you feel more comfortable? what balances it out for You?

for me, that's talking about it. and it comes off very lecture-like and like i'm scolding people and on one hand,, yes. it's a lecture, it's education, it's demonstrating what to do. but on the other, it's for me? it's for Me. and for Me to justify being in this space, it's to be loud and vocal. i've always said not everyone needs to be loud about it! i think forced activism is harmful but for Me personally? it's the talking about it that justifies it. for every negative comment that i get, i get 10 people that didn't realise the impact. for every person that says "this is such a non-issue" i get a DM from someone else asking more questions or thanking me for talking about it.

for every person in the fandom that doesn't value trans lives and lets me know that, i get 10 trans people who thank me for being loud about it.

and i think that's it for me. formulating a safe bubble for me and everyone else that has been harmed feels like justification. i won't ever be able to change her views or make a mass change, i'm just one guy without much to offer, but i can get one dm from a trans person who is glad to have found a space and,,, yeah. i can make A difference. i'm glad.

and then that all comes together when it comes to me posting. posting even fics is promoting her but i like to think (maybe potentially ignorantly, i'm not sure) that if someone new(er) to the fandom fics a video i've made on the fyp and they want to know more, they'd swipe across to my account, hypothetically. and then they'd find the jkr playlist, they'd find the pinned videos, they'd find the yap playlist and the jkr powerpoint etc etc, and i - definitely ignorantly - like to think that it balances out somewhere. maybe. hopefully. it definitely does more than just posting about the fandom/studios/merch on something like tiktok with an incrediblyyyy loose algorithm and not mentioning anything at all.

it's a hard balance. it's a hard balance of wanting to educate but not wanting to come off kind of,,, like superior? dictorial? placing myself above everyone? but also not wanting to sit back. and i don't think i've found that balance yet, but that's okay! it's all a curve.

for someone else it could be that they add the disclaimers to their fics and don't talk about it publicly often. like here on tumblr is very different to over on tiktok, and i'm sure justification works different on a systemic level here than there. or for someone else it could be that they simply read someone else's talks about it and try to adapt. it could be anything really, it's so individual!

you can justify it however you need to, as long as you have the basics down and you're not causing harm. as long as your justification isn't rooted in assauging your guilt (by that i mean for example, "im queer and jkr hates me anyway so i'll go the studios in protest" because that causes harm)

but at the end of the day i think it comes down to not letting TERFs win. at the end of the day i think we all justify it by not letting them take away another thing we love, even if it's something as silly as a magical universe. it means a lot to us, we aren't going to give it up for someone like her.

so we make a change. we don't separate art from artist, that causes harm. we don't call it reclaiming, you can't reclaim IP of someone still living and profiting.

but we can claim a bubble within it, and we can surround ourselves with people that get it and some of us will step out of the bubble and try to get more people to join us, others will be happy just staying in there and enjoying their time, and we all just get to Breathe.

i don't know. this is long and rambly and i don't think i'll ever justify it fully. i think i'll always feel guilty and i'll always talk about it and i think i'll always have moments where i wonder if maybe i am doing more harm, or times where i feel like i'm screaming myself hoarse and people don't seem to get it but,,, i also have 20,000 people that i didn't have before. and lifelong friends. and communication skills i didn't have, and a rekindled love for something that dominated my childhood.

and i feel good, i think. about the way i've gone about it. i think the version of me that bought crusty and dusty falling to pieces books off of etsy and sat there highlighting things would be proud that this is the way we take it, and i think the 15 year old version of me that realised he was trans and threw everything away would be proud too.

and i think that's how i justify it.

am i making myself proud with this? am i proud of how i went about this, and will i be proud when everything unfolds and we see the harm reach it's peak? will i be proud of what i did to Try?

and i think that's the big question to be asking ourselves.

(and in terms of one post, i have a PDF powerpoint here that explains a Bit, but - not to just promote myself lmao but who's reading all of this actually - i will be releasing three episodes of my podcast this week ALLL about jkr! (1) things in the books (2) twitter, political action, robert galbraith books and (3) fandom responsibility - and that third one will contain everything. for now at least. it's constantly changing but for now, it will include everything we need to do to keep this space safe and comfortable and as ethical as possible)

[sylusonychinus]

I absolutely adore It’s Okay If You Forget Me. I was wondering if you could write a similar concept with Caleb where the reader isn’t the MC.

Loosing my head

Pairings: Caleb x Reader

warning: Angst Good luck readers

What did I say? What did I do? I can feel it in my chest—the weight of it all pressing down on me. My thoughts are tangled up in knots, every word we’ve said, every look exchanged, echoing in my mind. This isn't how it was supposed to be. It never was.

I watch you from across the room, your back to me. The silence between us is suffocating, a thick fog I can’t break through. There was a time when this room, this space, felt like our own world. When I could look into your eyes and feel the fire that burned between us—when nothing else mattered.

Just yesterday, you said, your smile a light in the dark. We were laughing, sharing quiet moments, everything so effortless. I remember how your hand brushed mine, and for a moment, everything felt... perfect.

I wasn’t always good at this. Relationships were never something I was taught to navigate. But with you, it felt different. You made me feel like I could be someone better. Like, maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t a lost cause. The way you cared for me—it was something I never thought I deserved. And I let myself fall for you. Completely.

But now? Now, all I feel is distance. And it’s killing me.

I close my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they're relentless.

I remember that night. The first time I saw you after everything started changing. We were sitting at that café, the sun setting just right, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.

“I’m not sure about this anymore, Caleb.” Your voice was so small, so unsure, that it sent a chill straight through me. It was like the world had shifted beneath us, and neither of us had noticed until it was too late.

“What do you mean?” I’d asked, panic rising in my chest. I didn’t know what I was afraid of—the possibility of losing you or the reality of it all hitting me.

You didn’t answer right away, and when you finally did, it was with a softness that made my stomach drop. “I think... I think we’re not moving in the same direction anymore.”

Those words—they still echo. Not because of what you said, but because I couldn't hear it. I didn’t want to hear it.

“We can fix this,” I’d pleaded, desperate, my voice rising a little louder than I intended. “We just need to talk. We can work through it.”

But you shook your head, eyes filled with something I couldn’t touch anymore. “I don’t know, Caleb. I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Now, all I can feel is the aftermath. The way we’ve been spinning in circles, trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through our fingers. You take me so high, only for us to fall, again and again. And each time, it feels like we’re getting farther apart.

I take a shaky breath. Every day feels like we’re just falling. Falling from some kind of high that I can’t even remember anymore. What happened to the love we used to have? The kind of love that made everything else fade away. I want that back. I need that back.

But I don’t know how to stop this free-fall. How do we fix something that's been broken for so long, when every word we say seems to push us further into the dark?

You’re still standing there, distant, and the ache in my chest grows. I could reach for you, but what if it’s already too late? What if everything we’ve fought for is already gone? What if I lost you the moment I stopped listening, the moment I thought things would just magically fall into place?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though I don’t know if I’m apologizing to you or to myself. The words feel too small for everything we’ve gone through. But I don’t know what else to say.

You don’t answer, but I feel the weight of your silence settle over me like a heavy blanket. And I’m left standing here, in the cold, holding on to nothing but the memory of the way we used to be.

a/n: i tried to make it really angsty :33 also some of this may come from personal experience

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The Bodyguard part 2

WC: 2.5k

TW: age gap; angst; mentions of weapons; FLUFF; more angst; unrequited feelings; mentions of virginity

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*1 week later*

I sleep past Pilates, waking up feeling down on my 25th birthday. When I walk into the kitchen, Jake is at the breakfast table with a chess board sitting in front of him. “What’s this?” Jake’s green eyes pierce mine, “Happy birthday, Ms. Y/l/n.” My eyes water and I turn to make my coffee, “You play?” “No ma’am, you’ll have to teach me.” “Only if you never call me ma’am again. Already feeling old today.” He smirks, “Noted.” I sit down across from him, explaining the rules. Each game he gets better. By the 6th game, he actually beats me. There’s a knock at the door and Jake runs over, looking through the peephole. His body stiffens, he opens the door and carries in huge vase filled with roses. He sets it down and I read the card.

Happy birthday, darling.

I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate with you.

Thinking about you.

xx,

Glen

I smile and set the card down. Yet I notice that there is no warmth spreading through me. Not like how it does when Jake is near me. Jake rolls his eyes, “Seems a bit excessive.” I sigh, “Yeah. It’s what my Dad does too. Did you see what he sent me?” He shakes his head and I walk over to the kitchen. Pulling out a large Tiffany’s box, I show him the diamond necklace and earrings. The necklace is a round, solitaire diamond on a dainty chain and the earrings match. Jake’s eyebrows raise, “Wow.” I close up the box and set it next to the roses, “I should be happy, right?” He stands beside me, staring at the gifts, “Are you?” Tears fill my eyes, “No. Neither of them called… or even sent a text.” In a completely out of character moment, Jake’s hand rests in my shoulder. A comfortable silence surrounds us as a fluttering feeling touches my heart. Butterflies? Butterflies from Jake? Butterflies that I have never felt before? The warmth pools in my stomach again and a tear falls down my cheek. He brushes it away with his thumb, “Ms. Y/l/n, I have another surprise for you.” Jake grabs my hand and leads me into the living room. There’s candy, popcorn, and a copy of the Sound of Music on the coffee table. The fluttering feeling touches my heart again as I sit beside him on the couch, “You did this?” He nods and pops the DVD in. I chuckle, “Your age is showing. You could’ve just rented it on my Amazon Prime.” “Ms. Y/l/n, you can’t talk about my age like that anymore. You’re getting up there now, too.” I playfully gasp, “How could you?” He smiles, a real smile, and I take a moment to appreciate it. He nudges me, “Pay attention, the movie is starting.”

.

Right around 16 going on 17 I doze off. While I am half asleep, I swear Jake is playing with my hair. The credits wake me up and Jake smiles, “You missed it, they escaped in the nick of time.” My voice is groggy, “I’m sorry, l didn’t mean to…” He cuts me off, “It’s okay. I’m gonna start making dinner.” The feeling threatens to touch my heart again, “You’re making dinner?” He nods and heads to the kitchen. I sit at the counter, watching him cook. Jake moves swiftly, with extreme precision. He sets a plate in front of me, steak, broccoli, and mashed potatoes. “Thank you, Mr. Seresin. You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” He shrugs, “I couldn’t have you being sad on your birthday.” I smile and take a bite of the steak, “I’m happy now. This steak is amazing, by the way.” Jake smiles again and it takes my breath away. I wonder if he knows how handsome he is. How when he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle in the most adorable way. Once we finish, I head up to change into my pjs. This time a silk set that is black. When I come down, I turn on some trashy reality tv show. He sits beside me, leaving more room than he did before. My phone rings and it is Glen. Jake’s jaw twitches as I answer. “Hi! … No, don’t worry. … Yes I did! Thank you. … It was a really nice day actually. … Oh, okay. … Have fun. See you soon.” Jake’s body is tense, “How is pretty boy?” “He’s good. Going to some after party.” His eyebrow raises, “How do you feel about that?” I shrug, “We technically aren’t … anything. So even if I was jealous, I wouldn’t have any right to be.” Jake smirks, “Okay, sure.” I roll my eyes, “Let me guess, you’re the jealous type?” His eyes meet mine, “I do not share what is mine.” The heat spreads from my stomach all the way to my cheeks, “Does your girlfriend mind that?” He notices my blush and chuckles, “She doesn’t exist. Not a big dating guy.” I look down at my hands, “Me either. Glen is the first guy who has ever really shown interest in me.” His eyebrows raise, “I highly doubt that.” “No one really wants the trouble of dating the President’s daughter.” I head into the kitchen to make tea.

.

While drinking my tea in my room, I scroll Instagram. Glen is tagged in a million photos of an after party. Models and actresses all around him. He isn’t dancing with them or kissing them, but for some reason it still hurts. I’m just… me. Maybe that’s why it’s never gone further between us, he just knows that I won’t know what I am doing. Sobs escape my mouth, the loneliness of this life hitting me especially hard. There’s a knock on the door, “Ms. Y/l/n, are you okay?” I don’t respond, hoping he’ll leave. Instead, he walks right in. “What’s wrong?” Jake glances at my phone, seeing the photos. He sighs, “Hey, it’s probably nothing.” I shake my head, “You don’t get it. You don’t understand how isolated I have been my whole life! I’m not like those girls and he knows it. That’s probably why he won’t even kiss me!” “Ms. Y/l/n, you are more beautiful than those women. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” I stare at my phone and sigh, “It’s not that. I’ve never been with a man before… in that way. So a guy like him will never want me.” I see something in his eyes that I wasn’t expecting after that admission, understanding. His large hand rubs my back, “If he doesn’t want you then he is an absolute idiot.” We stay like this for a moment, him comforting me until I calm down. I look up at him, “Wait, I thought we weren’t friends.” He sighs, “Okay, I was wrong. You’re not nearly as insufferable as I thought you would be.” “Thank you. You are difficult, but you can also be very kind.”

.

.

*1 week later*

There’s a knock on the door and Jake walks over. He sighs, opening it up. “Hey! Is Y/n home?” I walk over, “Glen! You’re back!” He wraps me in a hug, “I missed you so much.” I lead him into the kitchen for coffee, “Really?” He smiles, “Of course, darling. I was thinking about you the whole time.” A smile spreads across my face as I take a sip of coffee. My brain wanders, thinking about while Glen was gone. I thought about him some, but Jake took up way more space in my mind. Guilt washes over me. “Earth to Y/n? You there?” “Sorry. Got lost in my head.” Glen brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “The book?” I nod, noticing that there isn’t any fluttering or heat. Then, cursing myself for not feeling it. He checks his watch, “Darling, I have a meeting in half an hour. Can we schedule dinner sometime soon?” “Yeah, that would be great.” His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips. Glen leans in, kissing me gently. It is soft. Sweet. And completely underwhelming. There was no spark. Or excitement. When he pulls back I smile, “See you soon, Glen.” His grin spreads wide, “See ya, darling.” Jake walks him out.

.

I write the rest of the day and Jake has completely avoided me. I sit across from him while we eat dinner. “Why are you not looking at me?” He looks up from his plate, “I don’t know what you mean.” “Well lately we’ve been friendly, but it seems a cold front has come through.” Jake rolls his eyes. I huff, “Really? Just tell me what’s going on.” He raises an eyebrow, “You don’t seem very giddy for a girl that just got kissed by a movie star.” I shuffle food around on my plate, “Shut up.” He chuckles, “Oh so now you don’t want to talk. What, is he a bad kisser?” I stare at my plate, “It just wasn’t what I was expecting.” “And what was it you were expecting?” My eyes meet his, “A spark. Butterflies. Anything.” “So, none of the above?” I shake my head and he laughs. “Don’t laugh at me!” He stops and his face looks serious, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because pretty boy walked out of here like a lovestruck little girl.” Guilt washes over me. He shrugs, “Don’t feel bad. He doesn’t deserve you anyways.” I cover my face with my hands, “I am going to die alone.” Jake sets his dishes in the sink and pats my back, “Come on. Let’s watch one of your shitty shows.” We sit down on the couch and I turn on the tv. Part way in to an episode, my phone rings. It’s Glen. I let it go to voicemail. Jake clears his throat, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “A few months ago, you were head over heels for this guy. What changed it? Because it has to be more than just the kiss.” I think for a minute. “I started to notice things. His attention always being somewhere else. Gifts instead of quality time. And I never felt heat when I was around him.” He raises an eyebrow, “Have you felt ‘heat’ with anyone before?” Looking down at my hands, I blush, “Yes.” Jake’s jaw twitches, “Then why haven’t you gone out with that guy?” “I can’t.” “Why not?” “He doesn’t feel the same way.” He furrows his brow, “Have you asked him if he does?” “No but I can tell, okay? I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight Mr. Seresin.” He mutters goodnight as I walk up the stairs. I lay awake in my bed, thinking about Jake.

.

.

*1 month later*

I wake up covered in sweat. The nightmares have been happening for years, but this one really spooked me. I can’t fall back asleep, so I head downstairs to make tea. Jake runs downstairs in his pajama pants and no shirt, gun by his side. My jaw almost drops to the floor. “Calm down G.I. Joe, it’s just me.” “It’s 2 am! Are you okay?” I take my tea over to the couch, “Yeah, just a bad dream.” He frowns, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need anything?” I sigh, “No, just couldn’t fall back asleep.” He joins me on the couch, “Want to talk about it?” I shake my head. We sit in silence and my phone rings. Glen. Probably out drinking with friends. “What are you gonna do about pretty boy?” I rub my forehead, “I don’t know.” “What are you going to do about mystery man?” “I don’t know, okay!” He throws his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m just kidding. I’m sorry.” “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just frustrated.” Jake shrugs, “Then just tell the guy. The worst thing that could happen is he says no.” I bury my face in my hands and he rubs my back. I stiffen, “Please don’t touch me right now.” Jake pulls his hand back, looking hurt. Then the realization hits him. “Oh, Ms. Y/l/n are you talking about..” I don’t hear the rest because I run upstairs, shutting myself in my room. Jake follows me upstairs, knocking on my door. “Go away!” “Not until you talk to me.” I wipe my eyes and walk over to the door, opening it a crack. Jake’s face falls when he sees the streaks of tears. He pushes the door open, bringing my head to his chest. I breathe in his cologne. The heat of his body radiates into mine. His heart is beating fast, the complete opposite of that night in the alley. “Ms. Y/l/n, you are amazing. I mean that. But…” “But you don’t feel the same.” His green eyes meet mine with a look of seriousness, “But you’re my client. My job is to protect you. Any distraction puts you at risk and I can’t have that happen.” I step away, “I understand. Goodnight, Mr. Seresin.” He starts to speak but stops himself, walking out of the room. I stare at the ceiling, wishing I could disappear.

.

.

*1 week later*

I have been avoiding Jake at all costs. Keeping our conversations short and only about security. I can see that it hurts him, which kills me. When Dad calls, he keeps asking what’s wrong but I don’t know what to say. Oh sorry Dad, I have the hots for my bodyguard? He was annoying at first but he’s actually kind and sweet and strong and looks so damn good shirtless. Yeah, can’t say that. Glen calls, inviting me over for a movie. I head downstairs, “Mr. Seresin? We are leaving in an hour.” He comes out of the office, “Where are we going?” “Glen’s house. He’s invited me over for a movie night.” That jaw muscle twitches like always and he mumbles, “But you don’t even like him.” “What?” Jake moves closer, clearing the distance between us in seconds. With his face inches from mine he repeats himself, “You don’t like him, so why are we going there.” I look at my shoes, avoiding his eyes, “Just be ready in an hour. You’ll be dropping me off. He has security at his home.” I turn and Jake’s hand closes around my wrist, “Like hell I will.” I whip around, “I’m your client, remember?” The familiar heat starts to spread through my stomach. Jake’s eyes stare into me, dark and stormy. His voice is low, “You are not going over there because he does not deserve you. If you want to watch a movie, rent one on your Amazon Prime.” “You’re ridiculous! You don’t want me, unless you suddenly forgot about the other night. So, I am going to spend the night with Glen.” Jake leans in and a flutter flies across my chest. He notices my blush and smirks, “Oh, I want you. I’ve wanted you since the day we met. But once I have you, I won’t be able to let go.”

[marzipanandminutiae]

Dear Giles,

It's good to hear from you again, as always. But how many times will you ask me before you accept that I can't give you an answer?

Did that really happen? It's a matter of public record. I've told you that before. The marriage, the death, the murders. You could look up the newspaper articles, if you went to Buffalo or New York City. It may have even been in the Baltimore papers; I've never checked.

But the rest of it- the ghosts? Was that real? I don't know. My mother thought they were, but my mother thought a lot of things. As I've told you before, she was- changed, in many ways, by her ordeal.

She thought the ghosts were real. She also looked at me sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, like I might be one.

I wonder if you can fathom what it's like, to be the bomb your own mother fears might explode?

Sometimes it all seems so ridiculous. She was born for a different world, my mother, a glittering citadel where everything somehow meant so much more and yet seems ridiculous to think of now. Sometimes it seems remarkable that she didn't die sooner, that she could have ever coexisted with supermarkets and Alka-Seltzer commercials, with Sputnik and Levittown. Some part of that world lived on in her, I think, even as the whole thing foundered and fell on the killing-fields of France and the skies above Germany. And it taught her how to relate to me.

Her daughter. His daughter, too, and that was the problem.

She loved me; I know she did. She tried not to fear me. But when all your life is a Gothic novel, what are you think about the seed of a murdering Byronic villain? I half-suspect that, if analysts had been as popular then as now, she would have had me on the couch every week from the time I could talk. As it was, she handled me a little gingerly, a little too much concern in her eyes, and I never knew why until I was old enough to read her book. To learn what I had sprung from.

You ask me if the ghosts were real, every letter, for years now. I don't know how many more we have left, so I don't want to waste time repeating myself.

I don't know. But her ghosts were real, and they haunted her until she passed them along to me and left me to walk with them alone.

Best,

Enola [scribbled-out word] Cushing.

if I spoke about it (ficlet)

“…it humbles my heart, for you are everywhere.”

The buzz and snap of fluorescent lights rushed in to fill the silence that followed his words. Humming quietly, two washers in front of them whirled fabric into colorful cyclones.

Two washers, side by side. Two people, ditto, watched them.

The woman’s lips twisted slightly. She pushed a gray-brown curl back from her face.

“That sounds like my mother.”

“It’s Rumi,” the man hastily supplied. “A great poet. Just great. Nobody wrote like him, before or since. Such beautiful words…”

“My mother was a writer, too.” She didn’t look at him, seemingly transfixed by the spinning suds. “She used to say that love drove us all. I don’t think she meant that as a good thing.”

“It’s good for some of us.”

The woman pressed on as if he hadn’t spoken. “She was unlucky in love. My father died before she even knew she was expecting. They weren’t married six months. My aunt, too. And my grandparents had both passed away, so she had no-one in the world.”

At last, the man glanced at her. “Were they very happy, though? For those six months?”

She looked at the floor for a long moment. “They loved each other.”

“My friend…” He seemed to briefly lose his words. At last, shaking his head, “…she was very happy. Incandescently happy- and that’s a word I use advisedly, incandescent. She was practically glowing.”

“It sounds like her lover certainly was.”

“Bioluminescent, I believe they call it. There’s algae like that, too.”

Rain pattered against the enormous front window. Outside, a truck sped through a puddle, splashing a young man who shouted curses after it. One of the washers spun to a halt and buzzed loudly. The woman stepped forward, loafers quiet against the linoleum, and began pulling out damp clothes.

When she finally looked at him, a wry smile didn’t quite reach her blue eyes. “Well, she found happiness, as you say. Love didn’t steer her wrong.”

As she opened a dryer and dropped in one garment after another, the man shrugged. Scratched his head. Squinted at her behind his glasses.

“I don’t think I caught your name.”

“That’s alright; I didn’t give it.” She straightened up, extending a hand in his direction. “Enola. Enola Cushing.”

He shook her hand. “Giles Douglas. That’s a beautiful name, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Enola’s smile, this time, was genuine. It deepened the lines around her eyes and mouth, the ones that seemed to be waiting for it even when her face was blank. “Thank you. I’m named for a friend of my mother’s.”

Nothing more passed between them, in the half-hour Enola’s dryer took to bake  the water from her clothes. But, once she’d loaded up a drawstring bag and slung it over her shoulder, she paused, turning back to him.

“Here.” She held out the book that had carried her through the last thirty minutes, reading silently in a wobbly-legged plastic chair. Its jade green cover was cracked and threadbare, but the crimson crest and title stood out vividly all the same. “My tale for yours.”

Giles took it, leafed through a few pages, and frowned at her. “What’s this?”

Something flickered behind her eyes, a flash of uncertainty. At last, she wetted her lips with her tongue and replied, “A story with love in it.”

[rainbowcoloredpalmtrees]

This or That

tagged by: @epiphanytear 💛

used book or new? read with coffee or tea? collect books or pass them on? read outside or inside? classics or new releases? e-book or audiobook? historical fiction or dystopian? the smell of a book or the feel of worn pages? short chapters or long? Earth or invented world? read alone or book club? poetry or short stories? movie or tv show adaptation? read on a sunny day or rainy day?

hardcover or paperback? bookstore or library? bookmark or receipt? stand alone or series? nonfiction or fiction? thriller or fantasy? under 300 pages or over 300 pages? children's or ya? friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? read in bed or read on the couch? read at night or read in the morning? keep pristine or markup? cracked spine or dog ear?

barbie or oppenheimer // ketchup or mustard // crinkled fries or curly fries // robots or dinosaurs // silly hats or silly socks // spring or autumn // vacation or staycation // day or night // board games or video games // books or movies // money or love // milkshake or iced coffee // waffles or pancakes // chocolate or candy // beach or pool // laundry or dishes // take-out or dine-out // fantasy or sci-fi // lays or pringles

tagging: @longlegsnamjoon420 @saraminia @ramonaflow 🫶

[plusultraetc]

do you see what I mean 😭

[alpinelogy]

.

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

New day, new glasses pics

[elegyofthemoon]

ok but do i want to actually sit and read through all the clockie animation stuff so i have better foundation for what i want to say? i guess

[birdmenmanga]

the recent kaihen chapter was so cunty but I won't even be able to talk about it until like. next week because I'm so behind on my con prep LMAOOO

[cosmoknightchaos]

(coughs conspicuously). um. 🌹. for Sky. This is for science purposes. ahem.

🌹(Rose): What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

Purely for science, ey?

Okay first of all before I actually answer this question. Sky's stance on romance as a concept is something I've been trying to figure out since her creation. I don't know how this part of her brain works. It is truly a mystery (<-Aroace who doesn't understand romance in the slightest)

From a platonic standpoint, Sky's looking for people who are similar to her. She likes having friends who see the world the same way she does. For as kind and understanding as she is, Sky's a low-empathy person. She struggles to see things from anything but her perspective- a perspective based more in facts and logic than emotions- and so she automatically likes people who agree with her more. I also believe, because of that, Sky likes folks who are less emotionally conflicted. Which isn't to say she can't handle emotional situations I say as I nervously glance at Act 5 but they're not her favourite thing. She's a reasonable person and she likes reasonable people.

From a romantic standpoint, I cannot stress enough how the stars fucking aligned with Skaide.

Sky is, first of all, really weird when it comes to her romantic orientation. She's probably asexual/demiromantic/panromantic, but I don't know for sure. I know that she experiences both infatuation and romantic interest, very easily confuses the two, and doesn't know the difference between a romantic and a platonic relationship. Sky's in love with the idea of romance more than she is in love, and it makes for incredibly doomed yuri potential.

On the rare occasion she does catch genuine romantic feelings, her type is similar to her platonic type, with a few key differences. Since Sky has a fairly big "stage presence", she leans more towards less-noticeable people. Folks who don't make as grand of an entrance or don't speak quite as loud. Sky has a strong personality and having a more mellow partner evens it out a bit.

All of the words I know of to describe this next bit have negative connotations and that sucks because it's not what I want but I don't know what else to use. Sky likes folks who are opinionated and stubborn. Not in a loud way, but people who have their minds set. Who know what they want. Who aren't very conflicted. Or, who don't seem to be very conflicted. Folks who appear to have their issues under control. Even if said opinions don't fully align with Sky's, as long as they're not in direct opposition, she's willing to adapt her view to match which is a side effect of infatuation, where you want to change yourself to seem more appealing to your person of interest.

I'm going to be honest. I had a whole paragraph written here about how Sky's low-empathy view effects relationships that tied into the Skaide Breakup Arc and why Sky and Jaide are a doomed relationship and I reread it several times and you know what? It was very much out of character. Sky is, despite the low-empathy, very much capable of handling emotional situations and we see that on full display in Act 5. Sure, it's not her best skill, but she is willing to face that issue head-on and try her best to help. So I can confidently say that a lot of Sky's previous romantic experiences, especially the Skaide RP, were just a side effect of me not knowing how to characterize her yet.

But on that note, I still stand by my original comment from months ago that Skaide is a doomed yuri relationship. And I think that all boils down to the fact that, with Sky's low-empathy and experience in emotional conflict, she is a thousand times better at handling platonic experiences than romantic. She is good with having friends and dealing with those issues, but when it comes to romance, she has no fucking clue what to do. It is an unexplored part of her life, and in an attempt to make sense of it, she will always default to treating it like another friendship, regardless of how much she loves the other person. Skaide was doomed from the start because Sky has such a different view on what a romantic relationship is than Jaide does and those views probably aren't going to align. Ever. Skaide is always going to end in them remaining friends because that's the type of relationship Sky is comfortable having.

Now, is there a chance that, somewhere down the line, Sky realizes she loves Jaide enough to try and change that view? Hell yeah. But that's going to come after a lot of conflict and struggle and uncomfortableness. Because, in order for them to become a romantic relationship, Sky has to do the one thing she cannot stand and ignore her logic, ignore the reasoning she always fell back on, and use her emotions to change as a person. And then maybe there's a chance things will work out.

I'd like to finish this off by saying Sky is still in the development stage as a character. I have no idea if any of this will still be true in a couple months' time- Act 5 is Sky's act and I fully believe she's not going to escape development hell until it is finished. But I do know that this is where her character stands right now, and I have a good feeling that it won't change too much over the next few months.

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night