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[hungriestheidi]

to the great argentinian people, salute!

[hoe4hotchner]

You left me behind, and now I see you everywhere | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 11.6k  | CW: MDNI, 18+, emotional distress, heartbreak, angst, unresolved feelings, grief, heated argument, anger, smut, piv, wrap it before you tap it, it's office sex, heated kiss, dirty talk, kind of rough sex, general case talk, mention of mr. Scratch (if that's even a warning, maybe some of y'all have trauma ;))

Summary:  After years apart, following Hotch’s departure into witness protection and his decision to run for Congress, you're forced to confront unresolved feelings when you meet again. Tension builds as you navigate your emotional fallout, leading to a passionate confrontation and a second chance at love.

A/N: Worldwide by Big time rush started playing from my playlist as I reached the last scene to edit…. I had to stop myself from crying cause that song fits so well for some reason.

Peter Lewis was dead. Mr. Scratch was finally gone. With him out of the picture, Aaron could come back. That had been your one glimmer of hope through all the sleepless nights and endless waiting — knowing that once Lewis was no longer a threat, the man you loved would return. No more running, no more hiding. Hotch and Jack would finally be safe.

You clung to that thought like a lifeline, repeating it to yourself over and over again: He can come back now. He’ll come back to me. He'll come home.

The rumors had reached your ears days before Rossi called the meeting. Hotch was out of witness protection. Finally free to do what he wanted, to reach out again. Your heart soared at the news, desperate for it to be true. You had tried to keep your emotions in check, to remind yourself that things weren’t that simple, that there were procedures he had to go through before he could come home. But still, the idea of him walking through those doors — or knocking on your door — returning to his place at the BAU, and — most importantly — returning to you, was the only thing that kept you from breaking completely during his absence. It was the only reason why you had been able to keep your composure.

Now, as you stood in the conference room, your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The relief of knowing Peter Lewis was gone should have been enough. It should have been enough.

They'll be safe.

Rossi took his place at the front, his demeanor was serious, a subtle weight to his usually warm expression that you'd come to love over the years. You could see the effort it took for him to meet your eyes, his gaze softening as though he knew the words that would follow would shatter you. Rossi had become a rock to you over the past year, always there to have a heartfelt chat about your feelings, how you were doing, and the progress you'd made trying to move on. But in reality, you hadn't.

“I’ve spoken to Aaron,” Rossi said, his voice calm but laced with gravity. “He and Jack are safe. They’ve left witness protection.”

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and joy rushing through you. He’s safe. After everything, he was safe. That meant he would come back. He had to.

But then Rossi continued, his eyes flicking over the team, hesitant in a way that made your stomach twist. “Hotch won't be returning to the BAU.”

The world around you froze. His words echoed in your ears, but your mind rejected them, refusing to accept the truth they carried. He’s not coming back? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t make sense of it.

"What do you mean he’s not coming back?"

The tears welled up before you could stop them. Your throat tightened, and you felt your heart shatter inside your chest. He wasn’t coming back. The man you loved — the man you had held onto, even when he left you behind — was choosing not to return, was choosing to stay away. The hope you had so carefully nurtured and held onto was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a cold, gnawing sense of abandonment. You felt the pit in your stomach, and you couldn't tell if you were going to throw up at the revelation.

It felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared blankly ahead, your body betraying you as the sobs threatened to spill out. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. How could he?

You had waited. You had been patient. You had loved him through all of it — through the secrecy in the beginning, through the ups and the downs, and now through the distance. You had held onto the belief that once the threat was over, he would come back to you. That you two could be whole again. That your soul finally would be reunited with its missing piece. But now, it seemed like everything you had hoped for, everything you had believed in, was gone.

Your hands shook as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, but they just kept coming. He’s not coming back. The realization pierced through your chest, sharp and unforgiving. It was like reliving the moment he left, only this time, there was no promise of a future. No promise of us.

You felt like a fool. You had been his, entirely, even when he hadn’t been yours. You had given him everything — your love, your trust, your loyalty. And now? Now he had left you with nothing but the weight of that betrayal.

Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The room around you faded into the background as your world crumbled at Rossi’s words.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t coming back. Not to the team. Not to you.

The silence in the room after Rossi’s announcement was deafening. You stood there, tears streaming down your face, completely oblivious to the concerned glances being exchanged around you. The tension in your chest was unbearable, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Emily was the first to notice, her brow furrowing as she took a step toward you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head with compassion. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were stuck in your throat, buried under the crushing weight of your emotions. You shook your head, your lips trembling as you tried — and failed — to stop the tears. Truth be told, they weren't surprised by your reaction.

“Hey, come here,” JJ said gently, moving closer, her hand hovering just above your shoulder, wanting to pull you in for a hug. Her touch was warm and comforting, but it felt like too much. The kindness, the sympathy — it overwhelmed you, only reminded you of how deeply you’d been hurt.

You pulled away, a sudden, jerky movement that made JJ’s hand drop back to her side. The rejection was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you wanted was to be left alone, to scream and cry.

“I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though the crack in your voice betrayed you. You turned away from them, wiping furiously at your face, even though the tears wouldn’t stop.

I can’t break down here. Not in front of them.

Morgan stepped forward, his expression softening as he watched you struggle. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. We know how much he meant to you. We’re here for you,” he said, his voice low, it was sincere, but you weren't ready for that, weren't ready to admit that this was your new reality.

But that was the problem. They were all there, and you were unraveling in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. You didn’t want their comfort. You didn’t want their pity. What you wanted was Aaron. You wanted answers. You wanted an explanation for why he had chosen to leave you behind, why he wasn’t coming back. For why he never called.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought. You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the weight of their eyes on you, all of them waiting, ready to offer support. But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

They weren't him.

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time. “I just—” Your voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying on your tongue. “I need to go.”

Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with understanding, but there was nothing he could say that would make this easier, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make you hate him. “Take the day if you need to,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that usually offered comfort, though it barely registered through the numbness settling into your bones.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You nodded stiffly, walking into the bullpen to grab your things. Your hands shook, desperate to escape before you completely fell apart in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Emily called out, stepping out of the conference room, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face them — not now, maybe not ever. You pushed through the door, your footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as you fled the room, the concerned voices of your teammates fading behind you.

Your heart raced as you moved down the familiar corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. The walls closed in, the pressure mounting in your chest until it became unbearable. By the time you reached the front doors, you could barely see through the tears, your vision blurred, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. Grey clouds loomed over your head, threatening to spill the same tears that you so desperately tried to hold back.

You stopped as you reached the end of the parking lot, finally letting the sobs you had been holding back tear through you, the grief, the betrayal, all of it crashing over you in waves.

He’s not coming back.

The words repeated in your mind, over and over again, each time cutting deeper than the last.

You had never felt so abandoned, so completely lost. And the worst part was, you had no idea what to do next, no idea who to turn to. Because the only person you truly wanted to turn to was gone from your life.

The walk back to your apartment felt like a blur, the city passing by in a haze of noise and light. You barely registered the world around you — your mind was somewhere else entirely, trapped in the ache of Rossi’s words and the sharp sting of Hotch’s decision. He wasn’t coming back. The words haunted you.

That thought pulsed through your veins, making each step feel heavier than the last. By the time you reached your door, your hands were still trembling as you fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside and just breathe.

But the second you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

You paused just inside the doorway, your body instinctively tensing as a strange feeling washed over you. The air felt… different. Still. You took a cautious step forward, your eyes scanning the familiar space, searching for something — anything — that looked out of the ordinary, that might explain the knot forming in your stomach.

Then you saw it.

Sitting neatly on the dining table, in plain view, were your spare keys. Next to them was an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in a handwriting only a left-handed person could've written. You recognized it immediately.

Aaron’s.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in time. Fear and confusion mixed with a sick sense of dread as you stared at the letter, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. How did he get in?

And how had he gotten out? The door had after all been locked.

Your heart pounded from your heart to your ears as you walked toward the table, the floor feeling unsteady beneath your feet. You hesitated for a long moment before picking up the envelope, the paper felt cold and rough between your fingers. The sight of his handwriting was almost too much to bear.

He had been here.

With shaking hands, you slid your finger through the envelope, carefully opening it and removing the letter as if it was the most delicate thing you had ever seen. Your eyes scanned the words, every stroke of the pen, every curve and twist was a painful reminder of the man who had once been yours.

The letter read:

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. ���𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙸 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ���𝙰𝚄. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 — 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 — 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎.

𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

— 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗

The letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor as your legs gave out beneath you. The sobs came violently, tearing through you as you collapsed onto the floor of your living room.

This was it. This was the moment where everything you had been holding inside — every ounce of grief, every bit of hope that had clung to your heart over the past year — finally broke free. The pain you had shoved down for so long, the hurt you had tried so hard to hide, came rushing out all at once, too powerful to contain.

You pressed your hands to your face, the tears spilling uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. He had been here. He had come back to your space, to your life, only to leave you with words that felt like daggers in your heart.

He could've waited for you to come home.

He had made his choice. He was leaving you behind. And he had done it with the same precision he used for everything — careful, calculated and always thinking ahead. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Jack. You would've done the same if you had been in his shoes. But you could hate the way he had left you, hate him for making you feel discarded, like something in his life that could be put away, neatly, and forgotten about without a second thought.

You curled into yourself on the floor, hugging your legs, your body trembling as wave after wave of sorrow washed over you. This wasn’t just about him leaving the BAU. This was about him leaving you. About him cutting you out of his life completely, like you had never mattered at all.

The sobs racked through you, they were raw and unrelenting, as you lay there on the cold floor of your apartment, clutching at the emptiness inside you. You had been holding onto him for so long, for too long, and now he was gone — really gone. And you were left with nothing more than the bitter taste in your mouth and the sound of your own shattered heart echoing in the silence.

Six years had passed since Hotch had walked out of your life.

In that time, you had grown, changed — hardened, perhaps. You’d thrown yourself into your work, climbing the ranks within the BAU. The weight of your experience now rested comfortably on your shoulders. You were no longer the agent who had cried in Rossi’s office all those late nights, the agent who had stood frozen in the conference room all those years ago, devastated by the news of Hotch’s permanent departure.

Now, you were Emily's right hand, trusted to run the team when needed, especially when bureaucracy. Rossi had decided to stop back a bit, taking on fewer cases and focusing more on his writing as he attempted weaning himself away from the team, hoping that this time he truly would be able to retire.

Leading the team had come naturally to you, though some days, when the office was quiet and your mind wandered, you still felt the ache of his absence.

You sighed softly, rubbing the back of your neck as you closed your office door behind you. It was time for the next briefing, and you’d promised Emily you’d call everyone in. The case was urgent — a missing child, time was not on your side — but as you walked toward the conference room, your attention was pulled to the large TV mounted on the wall in the bullpen.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years rang out through the room, smooth and familiar, the same low timbre that had once soothed your heart. The voice that still echoed in your dreams on nights when sleep was particularly elusive.

Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes snapping to the television screen, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as his face filled the screen. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety or love perhaps, that raced through your veins, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling something. Something you hadn't felt in years.

There he was, standing at a podium, flanked by the American flag, a calm and authoritative presence as he spoke to a crowd. The caption running along the bottom read: Former FBI unit chief Aaron Hotchner Announces Candidacy for a spot in Congress.

Your breath hitched. He looked older. The lines on his face were more defined, his hair tinged with a little more gray, his face was shaven, somethings never change you thought — though you could sense the salt and pepper streaks that had started appearing within it. The years had marked him, but there was still an undeniable strength in his presence. A steady, unshakable resolve that had always been a part of who he was.

And yet, even now, after all this time, he still looked as good as the day you last saw him. Perhaps even more so, with that air of confidence that seemed to come so naturally to him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he commanded a room — it was all still there, just as you remembered — even through a TV screen.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“…It is with great honor that I announce my candidacy for Congress,” Hotch’s voice continued, steady and firm. “My years of service in the FBI have prepared me to take on the challenges we face as a nation, and I believe it’s time to bring the values of justice and integrity to the forefront of our government. I believe it's time for a change.”

The camera zoomed in on his face, his expression was stoic yet passionate, every word calculated and purposeful. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories — late nights in the office, quiet moments where you’d lean on each other after a case, the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you, away from the chaos, the comfort of his hugs, the soft and tender feeling of his lips — everything came back.

But those memories were ghosts now. Echoes of a time you had buried deep, right along with the pain of losing him.

A lump formed in your throat as you stood there, rooted in place, watching a man who had once been everything to you stand on that stage, now completely out of reach — yet so close by. He wasn’t the same man you knew all those years ago, you were sure of that. He wasn’t your Hotch anymore. He was something else entirely — a public figure, a leader stepping into the political arena, ready to take on a whole new world — perhaps he never really was yours to begin with.

Your fingers tightened around the folder in your hands, your knuckles turning white with sheer force, the weight of it grounding you as you forced yourself to breathe. You didn’t know what to feel. Shock, maybe. Sadness. Perhaps even a bit of pride, seeing him like this, doing something for the greater good. But mostly, there was a gnawing ache deep in your chest, a familiar one, reminding you of what could have been.

You blinked rapidly, tearing your gaze away from the screen as the room started to blur around you. Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. Not here. Not now.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, walking past you, his eyes flicking to the TV screen before landing back on you, concern etched on his face. He didn't know much about your relationship with Hotch, only the rumors that had flown between the desks in the bullpen as you'd drowned yourself in work trying to suffocate the pain.

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice tight. “I’ll be right there. Just… finishing something up.”

Luke gave you a nod, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he headed toward the conference room, leaving you standing there, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the space around you.

You turned back to the screen, just in time to catch the last shot of Hotch stepping down from the podium, the applause from the crowd ringing out as the camera panned away.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he had ever thought about you during these last six years. If he had thought of calling you. If, somewhere in that busy mind of his, you had crossed his thoughts as he prepared to step into this new chapter of his life.

But it didn’t matter now. He had made his choice, and so had you.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and turned away from the screen, pushing down the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. There was a case to solve. There always was. And that was the only thing that mattered now.

“Alright, team,” you called out, walking towards the conference room, your voice steady once again. “Let’s get to work.”

You walked into the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effects of seeing Hotch on the TV. The rest of the team was already seated as you made it inside, files in hand, waiting for you to start the briefing. Emily glanced at you, her eyes narrowing slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press. She trusted you to compartmentalize when it mattered.

You inhaled deeply and projected the case details on the large screen at the front of the room. The image of a young boy's smiling face filled the space, the innocence in his eyes starkly contrasted by the grim reality of his disappearance and the details listed in the case files of similar incidents in the area.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Our missing person is Ethan Marshall, age 7. He was last seen outside of his school two days ago in a quiet suburb of Portland, Oregon. His parents reported him missing when he didn’t come home after his play date that same day with his best friend from class. There’s been no contact from a potential abductor. No ransom demands. The local authorities are stuck, and they’ve requested our help.”

JJ immediately sat forward, flipping through the case file. “Two days with no leads and no communication? We’re looking at someone who doesn’t need the attention. This could be personal, or we’re dealing with someone who’s done this before and knows what they're doing.”

Tara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Ethan’s photo. “The fact that there’s been no contact suggests they’re not after money. This might be about control, power, or even something darker, like revenge or even fantasy or sexually-driven motives.” You closed your eyes for a brief moment at the thought of what the unsub might put the young boy through. You had to find him, quickly.

You clicked through to the next slide — images of Ethan’s parents, Tim and Julia Marshall. “Ethan’s parents are a stable middle-class family with no criminal records. His mother works as a nurse, and his father is a local contractor. No major incidents or enemies we or they know of. However, Tim Marshall's company was sued about a year ago over a construction job that went south. It’s possible there could be a grudge tied to that.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But to target a child? It’s a big escalation. If this is about the father’s job, we’d need to look into that lawsuit, but we also need to consider the possibility that the kid was the primary target from the start.”

Emily chimed in, her eyes sharp with focus. “Agreed. We should explore all angles — someone with a grudge against the family, a potential predator, or maybe even someone close to the family. It’s often someone they know.”

Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through his notes, spoke up. “The average age for a child abductor is in their mid-thirties to mid-forties, typically male, though that’s not always the case. Most of them have a history of deviant behavior or crimes against minors. If this is someone who’s taken Ethan to satisfy a fantasy, we might be looking at someone who has done this several times before and is getting better at hiding their tracks.”

Your gaze swept over the team, the weight of the case settling in the room. “We’ve got a few potential leads we need to investigate. JJ, I want you to work on the media angle — see if you can coordinate with local news to get a controlled message out, prepare the Marshalls for a conference. Luke, you and Tara will dig deeper into Tim Marshall’s lawsuit. See if there’s anything there we can work with. Spencer, I want you to start profiling any possible suspects within a fifty-mile radius who fit the age and behavioral profile of past offenders.”

The team nodded, already mentally gearing up for the work ahead. You could see the gears turning in their minds as they absorbed the information and pieced together possible profiles of the unsub.

Finally, you cleared your throat, pushing away the personal turmoil still brewing inside you. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a missing boy out there, and time is against us. We’ll get more information as we land.”

You snapped the case file shut and looked up at your team, your voice firm. “Wheels up in 30.”

The team dispersed quickly, heading off to gather their gear and finalize last-minute preparations. You lingered behind for a moment, watching the case photos flicker on the screen. Your heart was still heavy from earlier, but you had a job to do. No distractions. No room for the past.

Focus, keep moving, you told yourself, even though the image of Hotch’s face still lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't afford to spare him another thought.

The case had been wrapped up with surprising speed, and the flight back to Quantico was a welcome relief. You settled into your seat, the hum of the plane a calming reminder of the good you and the team had done today. You felt the exhaustion seep into your bones as the plane roared into the sky. The hum of the engines and the rhythmic sound of the wings provided a backdrop, but you couldn't shake the tumult of emotions swirling within you.

As you glanced around the cabin, you noticed that everyone else was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the long days evident on their faces. Emily’s head rested against JJ’s shoulder, and Spencer was curled up in his seat with a book laid open in his lap, the pages fluttering slightly with the plane’s movement. Luke, too, was snoring softly on the couch, a slight smile on his lips as he pulled the blanket tighter around him. They all looked so peaceful.

But your mind was far from peaceful.

You leaned back in your seat, your thoughts racing back to Hotch’s announcement. You had tried to compartmentalize your feelings during the case, focusing solely on finding Ethan. But now, with the rush of adrenaline faded and the quiet of the plane surrounding you, the weight of it all crashed back in.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, pulling you from your thoughts. Rossi had moved to sit across from you, concern etched into his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

Before you could filter your thoughts, the words slipped out. “Did you know?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Yes, he called me last week to let me know.”

Your heart raced at the revelation. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your words came out as a hushed hiss. Rossi knew you hadn't meant it like that, but your frustration of how everything had panned out had never really gone away. He understood why you were feeling like you did.

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took in your features. “I didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. I thought you’d hear about it when he officially announced it. I thought maybe he'd even reach out himself” Rossi knew Hotch wouldn't reach out to you, even if his life depended on it. He was a proud man, and even if he had been willing to admit his wrongs, he was too scared to face you and realize just how big of a mistake this truly had been.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But why, Rossi? Why would he do this? He had a life with us — his life in the BAU, with Jack, with me. And now he’s just… gone.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he replied softly. “But running for Congress might be a way for him to contribute on a larger scale. He wants to help people, to make a difference, just like he did with us. This was a chance for him to step into a role where he could have an even bigger impact than what he had in the bureau. Who knows, maybe we'll see him around someday.”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “But he didn’t even talk to me about it. It’s like he just vanished. I thought we had something, and then he just left. I felt so abandoned.”

Rossi’s expression turned serious. “You know how Hotch is. He’s always been someone who puts others before himself, even at the cost of his own happiness. I think he truly believes this is what’s best for Jack and for himself. It doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you. In fact, I know he cared deeply about you. It just means he’s trying to figure things out in his own way.”

“But what about me?” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I was left behind, and now I’m still here, trying to navigate everything without him.”

Rossi said your name, leaning forward, his eyes softening. It wasn't as much a reprimand, as it was him trying to stop your spiraling thoughts. You both knew it did you no good. Especially not if the rumors were true and Emily was in line for the open position of Section Chief. Both of you knew what that would mean for you. “He made a choice, yes, but it doesn’t erase what you two had. If anything, it highlights how much he valued that relationship. He wouldn’t have just walked away without thinking it through, even if it seems that way.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your footing amidst the emotional turmoil. “I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. It feels so final, so absolute. I thought I was ready to move on, but seeing him on TV...”

Rossi reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be confused. But remember, you’re still part of this team, and we’re here for you, no matter what. You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

You nodded slowly, his words providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos in your heart. “Thanks, Rossi. I appreciate it. I just wish things were different.”

He gave you an understanding smile. “So do I. But whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. And if you need to talk about Hotch, I’m here to listen. Just know that he still cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.” You knew he was right.

As you both fell into a comfortable silence, you felt a little weight lift from your chest. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but you had the support of your team. And that was a start.

Weeks drifted by like the clouds hanging in the sky, each day seemingly blending into the next. Hotch’s face became a fixture on the television, the cadence of his voice echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. News reports came almost daily, showcasing him speaking passionately about his vision for change, the values he held dear, and the policies he aimed to implement if elected. The topics ranged from community safety to education reform, and while many praised his ideals, you found yourself seething each time his image flickered across the screen.

He still hadn't contacted you yet.

At first, you tried to engage with the reports, focusing on the substance of his speeches, realizing that despite everything he's policies aligned with your values too, but as each new broadcast emerged, anger simmered beneath the surface. It was infuriating to watch the man you loved stand there, poised and confident — visiting schools, nursery homes, community centers, and everything in between — while you were left with nothing but fragments of the life you had once envisioned together. He seemed so distant, a stranger now, embodying everything you once admired but now felt betrayed by.

Each time you heard his voice, the way he articulated his beliefs with the conviction that had once made your heart race, you locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day, drowning out the world with your frustration and sorrow. Your colleagues exchanged worried glances as you retreated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. They didn’t know the depth of your pain, the feeling of abandonment that clawed at your insides. And you weren't ready for them to know.

On one particularly long evening, the office was silent, the usual buzz of activity having died down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across your workspace. You sat alone at your desk, the glow of your computer screen the only light illuminating the room. Your heart felt heavy, the emotional burden weighing on you like a thick blanket.

As the clock ticked away, you absentmindedly pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photos. You found it — the last picture you had taken with Hotch and Jack. You hadn't meant to look for it, but something within you had drawn your mind to that particular folder with pictures you never quite had the strength to transfer out of your phone. In the picture, the three of you stood in the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, laughter frozen in time. Hotch’s arm was around you, a protective and loving gesture, while Jack beamed in front of you, holding his soccer ball in his hands, all youthful energy and innocence.

You stared at the image, the way Hotch’s eyes crinkled at the edges with genuine joy, contrasting sharply with the turmoil roiling in your chest. A single tear slid down your cheek, carving a path through the haze of anger and hurt.

“Jack,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the office. He must be close to 18 now. The thought struck you like a lightning bolt. Time had slipped by so swiftly, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of young man he had become. Had Hotch been there for him? Had he taken the time to show his son what love was? Did they share the same laughter you once did, or had the weight of their decisions overshadowed those moments?

You closed your eyes, allowing your mind to drift back to memories of Jack — the way his laughter filled the room, his playful spirit that lit up the darkest days. The action figures scattered all over your apartment. You remembered the way he would come running into your arms when you stayed over for the weekend, his small frame clinging to you like you were the safest place in the world. You had cherished those moments, and now they felt like distant echoes, fading into the background of your life.

The thought of him growing up without you, of Hotch and Jack creating a new life that you weren’t a part of, twisted in your gut. The anger that had bubbled beneath the surface surged forth again, but this time, it mingled with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. You felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives, watching from afar as they moved on, while you were trapped in a limbo of unresolved feelings.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the tear from your cheek and opened your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this. You couldn’t let him keep affecting you from a distance, even if it meant facing the truth of your feelings. You needed to regain control, to reclaim your narrative, whatever that might look like.

As you set the phone down, determination coursed through you. You would find a way to confront the anger and pain, to redefine your path without him. But the journey would be a challenge — one you weren’t entirely ready to take, yet knew you had to face.

With a heavy sigh, you stood, ready to leave the remnants of that day behind. You took one last look at the photo on your phone, whispering softly, “I hope you’re happy, Hotch. I really do.”

And with that, you stepped out of the office, leaving for the night, leaving the memories behind, but carrying them with you as you prepared for whatever came next.

A couple of days passed since that late night in your office, the echo of memories lingering like a haunting refrain. You had spent the time focusing on work, throwing yourself into cases, and helping your team. It was a temporary distraction, but every time you caught sight of a news segment featuring Hotch, you felt that familiar ache in your chest. Each broadcast, showcasing his polished demeanor and political aspirations, only stoked the embers of frustration and longing buried deep within you.

Then, one afternoon, as you sat at your desk, your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. Your heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as you opened the text:

“Hey! It’s Jack..... I don't know if you remember me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I’d love to see you. We're back in Virginia again. I miss you and wanted to ask if you’d meet with me. Sorry if this is weird, but I hope you’re okay.”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was Jack. After all these years, he was reaching out. The memories of his laughter and bright smile flooded back, bringing with them a rush of warmth and bittersweet nostalgia. Without a second thought, you quickly typed out your response.

“Hi, Jack! It’s great to hear from you. I’d love to meet. How about we catch up at the café near the Academy?”

You hit send and felt a wave of nervous excitement wash over you, followed closely by a rush of trepidation. What would he look like? Would he be the same boy you remembered, or had he transformed into someone else entirely different? The thought churned in your stomach as you anxiously awaited his reply.

The day of the meeting arrived, and as you approached the café, your heart raced with anticipation. The small establishment was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. You stepped inside, scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.

Jack sat at a table in the corner, his back to you, and you felt a jolt of recognition. He had grown into a young man, tall and confident, with his hair still matching Haley's, his eyes brighter than ever. But it was the way he carried himself that struck you most — he exuded a maturity that seemed to echo Hotch’s stoic demeanor, yet there was a warmth about him that was uniquely his own. Jack was much more like his mother than he would ever realize.

As he turned to look at you, a broad smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled at the sight. He stood, and for a moment, it felt like time had collapsed, erasing the years that had separated you. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him, and he embraced you tightly, a mix of nostalgia and warmth flooding over you both.

“Jack,” you whispered, stepping back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you turn eighteen,” he replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. You were surprised by how deep his voice had gotten, still recalling the sweet sounds of the 11-year-old boy who had gone into witness protection.

You both settled into your seats, and the initial rush of excitement settled into a comfortable rhythm as you sipped your coffees. “How have you been?” you asked, genuine curiosity etched in your voice.

Jack hesitated, his expression growing serious. “It’s been tough since… since everything that happened. After we left witness protection, it was just Dad and me. We moved a lot at first but eventually settled down in Chicago. Dad tried his best, but it wasn’t easy.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I can only imagine. How is he doing?”

Jack shrugged, glancing down at his cup. “He’s okay, I guess." He mumbled. "He doesn’t talk about you much, I don't think he can bring himself to let the memories resurface. But I can tell he misses you a lot. He still has all the pictures of us together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at them when he thinks I’m not paying attention.” His voice was thick with emotion, and you felt your heartache further.

Had Hotch been as miserable as you?

“I missed you both too,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I don't know if I can bring myself to keep holding on to the past. Not as long as Hotch hasn’t reached out to me, I’m probably not going to contact him. At least not for my own well-being.” You sighed, knowing it was the right decision, but still beating yourself up for listening to your sensibility.

Jack’s gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I just wanted to see you after all this time. You were like a mother to me after Mom…” His voice trailed off, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. You wondered if Hotch had ever talked about Haley, talked about what had happened to his mother, if Jack had ever gotten any answers?

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I could have been there for you both. I loved you both so much.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And that’s why I wanted to meet. I just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “I needed to know if you were okay. It’s been a long time, and you were always there for me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mixture of sorrow and relief washing over you. “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You were such a bright light in my life, Jack. It’s been hard without you both.”

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with shared memories and the weight of unspoken emotions. You listened as Jack talked about his life since Hotch had stepped into the world of politics — his own struggles, school, feeling like his friends didn't know the real him, the challenges of growing up without a mother, and the bond he still cherished with his father. It felt like they never left.

“I think Dad thought he was protecting me by not talking about you. But I needed to know about you, how you were doing. I needed to know you were okay.” He confessed, his eyes earnest. “He was always so focused on keeping me safe that he didn’t realize how much I missed you. How much he missed you.”

The warmth of Jack’s words wrapped around you, reassuring you that your bond hadn’t faded, even in the years apart. You shared stories, laughing softly at the memories of days long gone. The sun filtered through the café windows, casting a golden glow over the two of you, illuminating the path of healing you both needed.

As the café buzzed around you, it felt like a sanctuary, a safe space where the past and present intertwined, reminding you of the love that had once filled your life. This was a step forward, a chance to heal the wounds that had lingered for too long.

In that moment, sitting across from Jack, you realized that while the scars of the past might never fully fade, the possibility of rebuilding a future was within reach. Maybe not with Hotch, but potentially regain contact and a relationship with Jack.

“Let’s not let this much time pass before we see each other again,” you suggested, your heart lifting at the idea of keeping this connection alive.

“Definitely. You can count on it,” Jack promised, and as you both exchanged a smile, the weight of your shared history felt a little lighter, the hope for what was to come a little brighter.

The sun streamed through the windows of your office, casting a gentle glow on the stacks of case files and the photographs of the BAU team adorning your walls. You leaned back in your chair, still buzzing from your meeting with Jack, your heart lighter after the emotional reunion. The warmth of yesterday's trip to the café lingered in your mind, a comfort amidst the chaotic world of profiling and criminal behavior.

Just as you began to focus on the case at hand, there was a soft knock on your door. You looked up to see Emily stepping in, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey,” she said, her tone catching your attention. “I just got off the phone with the Director. He wants the BAU to assist with a case involving a politician in Congress.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Congress, knowing potentially what that could mean, and you held your breath, bracing for the inevitable connection. “Do they have any details yet?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching yours. “Not much. It seems there’s been some suspicious activity surrounding him, but the Director wanted us to prioritize this. I thought I should let you know, especially given the possibility of running into Hotch.”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of his name, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “So, we’re not profiling Hotch, then?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady with a joke, masking the swirl of emotions rising within you.

“No, he’s not involved at all with this case actually,” Emily clarified, crossing her arms. “But with him being in the spotlight, there’s a chance we might see him around, especially if the investigation takes us to other parts of D.C. or if he’s involved in any press events while we're at Congress.”

You nodded, absorbing the information. “Right. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility.” Your heart raced at the thought, the image of him on the television still fresh in your mind. The last few weeks of seeing him on the news had stirred up a mix of longing and unresolved feelings, and now the idea of encountering him face-to-face was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Are you okay with this?” Emily asked, her gaze softening with concern. “I know seeing him might bring up some stuff.”

You took a deep breath, weighing your emotions. “I’ll be fine. I have to be. We have a job to do, and I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.” You tried to sound confident, but uncertainty crept in.

Emily smiled, a mix of support and understanding shining in her eyes. “I know you’re strong. Just remember, we’re in this together. And if it gets overwhelming, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, Em. I appreciate that.” You felt a swell of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Let’s get the team together and see what we can dig up on this case.”

Emily nodded, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’ll gather everyone for a briefing. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

As she left your office, you couldn’t shake the feeling of impending change in the air. The thought of the case intertwined with the possibility of seeing Hotch again sent your mind racing. There was a part of you that yearned to see him, to hear his voice again, but another part was afraid of what it might mean for the rehabilitation of your heart shattered.

After a few moments, you collected yourself and headed to the conference room, determined to focus on the task ahead. You were a profiler, after all, and you wouldn’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment. But as you stepped into the room and looked at your team, the looming presence of Hotch hung over you like a shadow.

The bustling atmosphere of Congress was overwhelming, the echo of voices mingling with the rustle of papers and the faint sounds of distant conversations, as crowds of people moved past you every single second. Somehow you hadn't thought the building would be this busy.

You moved through the maze of hallways, the weight of the case hanging over you like a heavy cloud. After an intense briefing with the team and several hours of sifting through documents, you decided a quick coffee break was necessary. It was a small reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts before diving back into the investigation.

As you stepped into the crowded café, the rich aroma of coffee filled your senses, providing a brief comfort. As you waited for your order you glanced around, noting the throngs of aides and politicians, some deep in conversation, others lost in their phones. After what felt like an eternity, you finally received your drink, you ordered a cappuccino, absently stirring the foam as you made your way back toward the senator’s office.

Navigating the marble corridors was not easy, you focused, trying to remember the way you had come from. The noise of the café faded behind you as you moved further away, and the hum of energy around you began to fade as you thought about the case details you had just discussed with your team. But as you rounded a corner, lost in thought, everything changed in an instant.

There, just a few feet away, stood Aaron Hotchner. Your Aaron.

Time seemed to freeze. The world around you faded into a blur, and all you could see was him. He looked older nothing like he had looked on the TV, more refined, better even, yet he still carried that familiar intensity in his dark eyes. It was as if the years had melted away, and you were right back to those last moments before he disappeared from your life. Your heart raced, the mix of emotions overwhelming as you locked eyes with him.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved, caught in an electric silence that stretched between you. The familiar ache of longing hit you hard in the chest, twisting your stomach into knots. Memories rushed back — laughter, warmth, the comfort of his presence — but so did the pain of his absence and the betrayal you felt when he left.

In your shock, you didn’t realize your hand had loosened its grip on the coffee cup until it slipped from your fingers. The porcelain collided with the polished floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The hot liquid spilled out, soaking into the pristine marble and staining the floor with brown patches.

“Oh God,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You stepped back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Hotch said your name, his voice low and steady, yet laced with an emotion that mirrored your own shock. He took a cautious step toward you, as if afraid you might disappear again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” you managed, your voice trembling as you fought to regain your composure. But the words felt inadequate, too mundane for the weight of the moment. A wave of emotion crashed over you, and the dam holding back your feelings began to crumble. “Do you even realize what you put me through, Aaron? Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive? How many times I replayed those last moments in my mind, wishing I could have changed things?”

Hotch’s expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for Jack!”

“Best for Jack?” you repeated incredulously, your voice rising with each word. “What about me? What about my feelings? You just left! You abandoned me without so much as a goodbye! I had to rebuild my life without you, and all you can say is you were trying to protect him. It doesn’t make any sense!”

He took a step forward, frustration mingling with sadness in his eyes. “I had no choice! I had to keep you both safe! Do you really think I wanted to leave you behind? You think it was easy for me? It wasn’t! I’ve thought about you every single day!”

The sincerity in his voice pierced through your anger, but you couldn’t let it go. “It’s too little, too late, Aaron! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after six years and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice!”

“I never stopped loving you!” he shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. The admission hung between you, heavy and charged, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his, fueled by a mix of anger and disbelief. “How can you say that? You left me! You made a choice, and you chose to protect your son over me. I had to learn to live with that — learn to live without you!”

“And it killed me! I had to protect my family, and in doing so, I destroyed my own happiness. But you have to know, you were always in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you!” His voice softened slightly, the intensity shifting to desperation. “I thought you’d move on, that you’d find someone better who could give you what you deserve.”

“Better?” you scoffed, your anger giving way to an ache in your chest. “You think I wanted anyone else? No one could ever compare to you, Aaron. I spent years waiting for you, hoping you’d come back, that we could fix this.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Then why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“Because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!” You shot back, tears of frustration burning your eyes. “I had to respect your choice, but I thought you’d at least have the decency to contact me after everything we went through together!”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger! I thought it was for the best!” His voice rose again, echoing through the hallway, but there was a desperate plea beneath his anger.

“Best for who, Aaron?” you demanded, your emotions spilling over. “You think running for Congress is going to fix everything? You think I want to see you on TV every day, talking about policies and values when all I want is to talk to you about us?”

Before you could finish your thought, he closed the gap between you in an instant, grasping your arms gently but firmly. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and then he kissed you. It was a collision of pent-up emotions, a heated, desperate kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. Your lips pressed against his, teeth grazing against teeth, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

You lost yourself in the kiss, a whirlwind of anger, longing, and the familiar warmth that had always existed between you. It felt like no time had passed at all, yet every moment you had spent apart surged back, filling the space with an urgency you hadn’t felt in years.

Without breaking the kiss, you found yourselves moving, bodies instinctively drawn toward his office down the hall, Hotch leading the way. The door stood ajar, but you barely registered it as you stumbled inside, Hotch pulling you in after him. He nudged the door shut with his foot, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silence as he pressed you against it.

You barely noticed the cluttered desk or the framed photographs lining the walls. All that mattered was the heat radiating from him, the way his hands cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. He kissed you again, deeper this time, a fierce claim that made your heart race.

With each touch, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating rush of being so close again. You could feel the weight of his desperation, the years of longing that had built up between you, igniting a fire within you that had never truly gone out.

Finally, as you both breathed heavily against each other, he stepped back slightly, just enough to turn the lock behind him. The finality of the action made your heart pound even harder, the implications of this moment crashing down around you.

Before you knew it, Hotch crashed his lips into yours once again.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered into your neck, as he moved his hand under your skirt, you could feel his smirk against your skin. He was kissing you again, his fingers sliding up your body until they reached your breasts. You arched back into him with a soft sigh of pleasure, your hips rolling against his growing erection. You could feel how much he wanted you and it made you even more desperate for him.

You broke away from the kiss, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck me,” you said your voice sounded rough, still thick with lust from the kiss. You could see the flicker of pleasure that danced across his face, the fire burning in his eyes when he heard your words.

He didn’t speak though, he just pushed you back against his desk and as your ass met the wooden edge he lifted you up onto it by your things. The movement made your skirt ride up further, you tried to pull it back down out of instinct, but Hotch stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist. You gasped when his hands moved to grab the edge of your panties as he ripped them off. That had always been his favorite thing to do. Nothing had changed.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he had two fingers buried deep inside your cunt. “Fuck,” you hissed against his lips. He added a third finger and you gasped, your nails clawing into his back as you braced yourself, pleasure radiating through your body. You were already close to coming, desperate from the lack of a man's touch, he’d only been fingering you for a few seconds, but it was a much-needed release that you hadn't realized you had needed. He was determined to make you cum, was going to make you cum in his office, on his desk. You truly hoped that his door was locked.

Hotch leaned in and kissed you again, sucking at your bottom lip and then moving down to your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you moaned in response. Your legs spread around him and he groaned as you rocked your hips against his hand, trying so desperately to chase your release.

“Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he muttered against your skin. "I need to feel that pussy again. My pussy." He growled.

You felt a shiver run through your body at his words. “Please,” you begged, “now.”

You didn’t know if you unbuttoned his pants or he did, but somehow they were already around his ankles and he was pushing into you. His cock pulsed as he bottomed out, clouding your vision with the pure bliss from finally feeling him again. You let out a breathless moan as he stretched you out. It had been way too long since you'd felt the touch of a man you thought. His touch. Your hands slid down his back trying to pull him closer in an attempt to push him deeper inside of you. He groaned as he started to thrust into you. You felt every ridge of his cock as he moved.

The rhythm was hard and fast, your skin slapping together in loud claps. Your pussy was dripping, slick with wetness, your muscles clenching around him with every thrust as if you were trying to lock him in place inside your heat. You cried out when he pushed you down flat on his desk, his arms wrapped around your body as he started fucking you with the raw essence of an animal. The pleasure ran through your head and you nearly came right there.

Hotch grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. “You’re going to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed, trying to move your hips under him. Your teeth gritted, eyes rolling back into your head as your breathing sped up, almost hyperventilating from the immense pleasure.

“You like being fucked on my desk, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He slammed into you and then stilled. You whined in frustration as he held still inside of you. “Tell me. Use your words!”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, hoping it would get him to start moving again. It worked like a charm and he quickly slammed into you once more before fucking you into oblivion again. Hotch hit your G-spot with every thrust, you could feel your orgasm building up inside, the knot tightening, dangerously close to snapping in half. You felt him swell inside of you, his cock pushing into you harder and faster than before, as his thighs started vibration, you knew he was close too.

He leaned down over you and kissed you as you came. He swallowed down your cries as his hips stuttered. His cock felt like it was going to split you in half, but it felt so good as it sent you into a new level of pleasure. He came hard, hot liquid filling you up, you clung to his shoulders and cried out again as he groaned into your mouth.

Hotch pulled away slowly, his breath ragged as he held you close for a moment longer. The heat of the moment lingered in the air, but as he took a step back, you felt the loss of his warmth immediately. He gently helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of his desk, his hands steadying you as you settled.

He moved to stand between your legs, the space filled with unspoken words and the weight of years apart. His eyes searched yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart flutter. Hotch cupped your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture, so simple yet so profound, stirred something deep within you. It felt as though he had never left, as if no time had passed at all since that fateful day in his office so many years ago where he had just been... gone.

He pressed tender kisses to your lips, each one a promise, a reassurance that this moment was real. You leaned into him, surrendering to the familiar comfort of his presence as you wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. You let the tears that had been building up finally spill over. They rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the heat that still pulsed between you.

“I… I met up with Jack,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. The moment hung heavy in the air. You could see the flicker of surprise in Hotch’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “He’s grown up so much. He’s… he's an adult now.”

Hotch’s expression softened, a mix of pride and sadness flickering across his features. “He’s always been a remarkable kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you two were able to reconnect.”

“I missed you both so much,” you confessed, the weight of your words crashing over you like a wave. The years of longing, the nights spent wondering about him and Jack, came rushing back. “It’s been so hard, Aaron. Watching you on TV, hearing you talk about your values and the future... all I wanted was to be a part of that future again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I didn’t know if I was worth it to you. I thought you’d moved on. Didn't want to disrupt your life.”

You shook your head, a mix of determination and vulnerability surging within you. “I never moved on. I just learned to live without you. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Hotch stepped closer again, his hands still cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Then let’s try again,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice melting the last remnants of doubt lingering in your heart. “Let’s see if we can make this work, for us and for Jack.”

You swallowed hard, hope igniting within you like a flame. “I want that,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your tears. “I really want that.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours once more, the kiss gentle but filled with an undercurrent of promise. It was a reaffirmation of everything you both had lost and everything you hoped to regain. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the world outside, you felt a sense of peace and belonging you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”

With your heart full and tears still glistening in your eyes, you nodded. For the first time in years, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. The future ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time, it was a future you were excited to face — together.

@vikingstoner69

[draconic-desire]

your yan!neuvi series got me on a chokehold !! I feel so bad for darling but it got me thinking, would neuvillette ever allow them to i dont know, go visit mondt to look at their parents’ grave (?).

Neuvillette meets his (dead) in-laws edition 😂

Ok this idea is simultaneously kinda funny but also makes me cry a bit because I totally think Neuvillette would have ensured your family’s wellbeing in your absence. Despite his flaws, he still maintains his overwhelming sense of duty and justice.

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

(A Dance with the Dragon Interlude)

Talking about your life four centuries ago has become a bit of a taboo in the household you share with Neuvillette.

Mostly, it only serves to incite an argument, one you are always predestined to lose. The other times, it only reminds you of painful memories. So, you’ve learned to bite your tongue, to keep your past held tightly to your heart. Neuvillette doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, you believe he might prefer if your history were to be wiped from your mind completely, leaving a blank slate for him to carve his essence into.

Which is why you’re so shocked when, on a particularly storming evening, the Chief Justice himself requests, “Tell me about what your parents were like.”

Jolting, you nearly drop the book in your hands. He’s not looking at you—usually, having his gaze on you translates to irritation, concern, or lust. When he’s looking away from you, as he is now, irises trained on the waves battering the cliffs below your home, you know that means he is instead thinking, pondering.

But thinking about what? Your eyes narrow, and your heart accelerates. What is he getting at?

A hand clenches around your heart when you try to picture your mother and father in your head—and fail. Four hundred years without a visit or simple image…of course their features have faded over time. But you’ll never forget the warmth, the knowledge that they loved you until the end and supported your lifelong wish of pursuing marine biology, even when it took you away from them.

You only shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about that, Neuvillette.”

He turns to you, now, eyes filled with calculation. A judge presiding over his court. “I had no parents. I simply…came to exist. Born of the water, the waves, the sea foam, and bestowed with this primordial power.” He glances down at his gloved hand, palm squeezing into a fist. “So the idea of parents is…foreign to me. Though I have a sense of the kind of ceaseless, unconditional love that defines a family.” You know he’s talking about his feelings for you, and your tattoo burns. “Experiencing a loss of that magnitude would be incomprehensible.”

For the life of you, you cannot figure out his endgame here. Why acknowledge your loss? Why equate his adoration and obsession with you for parental love? Your eyes burn, your breath quickens, you feel the tattoo pulse with energy as you—

“Do you ever wonder about how they lived the rest of their lives?”

Yes. No. Everyday. Somehow, you find your voice, a quiet thing filled with warning. Your skin feels so hot, like your veins are laced with lightning. “And how would you know anything about that?”

Neuvillette’s sharp eyes cut to your frame. “I…made sure that they were fully provided for. They lived happy lives, believing you to be living out your dreams in Fontaine. They are now buried together, in the cathedral cemetery overlooking the Brightcrown Mountains.”

Your breath hitches, and that power in your blood begins to settle. Their favorite place. The Brightcrown Mountains, where your father proposed to your mother. The Favonius Cathedral, where they were married. And the cemetery behind the church, where your grandparents had been entombed, too.

Something falls onto your lap. It’s only when you touch your hands to your face that you realize you’re crying. Neuvillette watches you with concern, one hand raised and poised to reach out to you, but he keeps his distance as he lets you process.

You release a shaky sigh. Was it true? Did they pass with no fear for your safety, in ignorant bliss of your extended life? The thought, although morbid in some ways, actually brings you a sense of peace. Your parents never had to endure the loss of you in the same way you had for them.

You swallow thickly, your voice hoarse with emotion. “Can we…visit them?”

That sets Neuvillette’s back ramrod straight as he blinks. You’ve only been out of the house a handful of times, and he was the one to bring this topic to light, but to venture out of Fontaine entirely? His protective and possessive instincts flare immediately, screaming at him to shut this idea down, to grab you and sink his teeth into your neck, dominant, claiming. But as his silver eyes flick across your face, taking in your tears, the tremble in your hands, the pit of mixed despair and relief in your eyes, he relents.

Slowly, he blinks, taking in a deep breath. You’re expecting an excuse, a verbal slap on this wrist disguised as concern for your safety. Which is why, for the second time tonight, you’re stunned when Neuvillette, rising to his feet, extends his hand. “I’ll take you there.”

~*~

The trip is easy, thanks to the Hydro Dragon’s teleportation abilities. The two of you arrive at the large square in front of the cathedral, the statue of Barbados towering above you. Briefly, you wonder what the Archon of Freedom thinks about your situation, or if he even deigns to care.

Not much has changed about Mondstadt in four hundred years. The streets still possess an older feel, cobblestone streets and stone walls surrounding the city. After seeing the drastic change in Fontaine, the fact envelopes you in a sense of comfort, knowing that at least one aspect of the world has aged alongside you, long-lived but unchanged.

It’s long grown dark, and the heavy downpour persists. Neither of you brought an umbrella as you ascend the stairs and wrap around to the cemetery behind the church. The rain, however, seems to dissolve into your skin rather than chilling you or soaking your clothes, no doubt another consequence of Neuvillette’s magic coursing through your veins.

The Hydro Dragon leads you to a small plot towards the back. Two tombstones are erected side by side, and you fall to your knees as you read: (Mother’s name) and (Father’s name) (L/n). Lives entwined to their last breath, they soar high above the clouds.

You hear a rustle of fabric, and soon Neuvillette has joined you, kneeling by your side. He raises his arm, and tendrils of blue light pool from his palm, forming the shape of beautiful flowers. They surround the graves, a sea of blues to celebrate your loved ones.

The two of you sit there for what could have been minutes or hours. All you know is that this is the most at peace you’ve felt in four hundred years.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Never Say Never| Pt1

Warnings: Cursing

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

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You and Hyunjin had always been a passionate couple, with emotions running high in both good and bad times. It was something that you had yearned for- being in a relationship as passionate as a gasoline fueled flame; but in time you had realized what you had was both a blessing and a curse.

The day had started out like any other, but a simmering tension had been building up for weeks, ready to boil over.

Simple things had been irritating you both, yet you were too afraid to communicate those things in fear of causing issues.

You had just returned home from running some errands when you noticed the look on Hyunjin's face as he stared intently at something on the screen of his phone.

"Hey, I'm back," you called out, placing your bag on the kitchen counter. You had left the dorms earlier to run out and pick up a few things you intended to use to cook the guys dinner, running to a few other places as well throughout the late morning until early evening.

Hyunjin didn't respond right away, his side turned to you as he scrolled through his phone. You sensed something was off but decided to ignore it for now, too anxious of a person to start confrontations.

"How was your day?" you asked, trying to keep the mood light.

He turned around, a frown creasing his forehead. "Did you see this?" he asked, showing you an article from Dispatch.

You glanced at the screen and sighed. "Yeah, I saw it. They're always making up rumors and releasing things. You know that." The headline read:

STRAY KIDS HYUNJIN DATING FOREIGN NON-IDOL?

Hyunjin's frustration was palpable. "It's not just rumors this time, Y/N. They have photos of us together, and they're saying you're a distraction to my career." He rushed a hand through his hair. "And this isn't the first time its happened. Remember when you took my Instagram pictures but forget to edit your reflection out of the mirror? Thankfully it was just your shoulder, but you've put us in multiple situations because of stupid mistakes you make. Like the photo in the article-" He shows his phone to you. "Everyone knew I was doing an isolated photoshoot. None of the other members were there and I said you could come but to be careful when leaving so you aren't seen at the shooting scene. But rather you aren't careful and they have a picture of you in my varsity jacket."

You sigh in frustration. "Hyunjin, they don't even know what my face looks like! I always wear a hat and glasses and a mask and clothes that cover me up. I don't see the big deal in people speculating you being in a relationship! Just ignore it and it'll die down." You turn to go put some of the groceries away but Hyunjin spoke.

"I wasn't finished Y/N. You seem to think its that easy. I'm supposed to look desirable - attainable Y/N. I have to live the life of a bachelor even if it isn't the case."

You turn at the sound of his voice. You don't know if it was the flippant tone he used while saying something so dismissive or if it was because of how fed up you were of hiding but you scoffed.

You felt a mix of anger and hurt. "So, what? Am I not supposed to be around you because you need to feed into people's delusions? Are you expecting me to sit at home and pretend like we're nothing more than just two people who have mutual feelings but can't act on them because of fanservice? All because of a tabloid article?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly agitated. "It's not that simple. My career is on the line here. The fans, the company—they all have expectations."

Your temper flared. "And what about my expectations, Hyunjin? Does that not matter?"

Hyunjin's eyes flashed with frustration. "Of course it matters, but we have to be realistic. You- this could ruin everything I've worked for."

You laughed humorlessly at Hyunjin's slip up. "So...me loving you is ruining your career?" You licked your lips and then puckered them in thought. "Makes sense. considering I was the one who said yes to your advances." Your voice has a biting sarcasm to it.

"Y/N don't start. You knew what you were getting into- I warned you about dating an idol."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "This wouldn't even be an issue if you just disclosed our relationship! How many times have we had to sneak around and hide like we're doing something wrong? And you didn't warn me about this. Matter of fact you warned me about how people would act knowing you were in a relationship. They don't know shit Hyunjin, because you have yet to tell anyone other than the members about us. And they wouldn't have found out so quickly if it wasn't for Jisung being nosy and following you."

He scoffed. "Its common sense. You've lived here long enough to know not all relationships are disclosed right away. "

"You gave me the impression that you were going to inform people! It's been a year, Hyunjin! A fucking year."

"You know it's not that simple. Disclosing our relationship could have serious repercussions. I could lose everything I've worked for."

Your voice rose in frustration. "And what about me? Do you know how it feels to be kept a secret? To constantly worry about getting caught, about being labeled as a distraction or worse? Getting doxxed? At least if you told people they could be warned of legal reprecussions! Or maybe they would feel inclined to love someone their idol loves just out of decency. Not labeling us as a couple to the public is making things worse. Its making it hard for me-"

Hyunjin took a step closer, his frustration evident. "Do you think this is easy for me? I have to think about my career, my future. It's not just about us!" His voice was sharp and there was a hint of something underlying you weren't sure you had ever heard before.

You felt tears of anger and hurt welling up. "So, what? Am I just supposed to sit here and accept that I'll always come second to your career?"

He shook his head, his voice rising. "That's not what I'm saying. But you have to understand, this is my life. This is what I've worked so hard for. I can't just throw it all away."

"But you don't realize doing all of that is just slowly throwing me away?"

The argument escalated quickly, with both of you hurling accusations and past grievances at each other. Each word was a dagger, cutting deeper and deeper. And if emotions were blood you would have been dead by now.

"You never appreciate what I sacrifice for us," you shouted, tears streaming down your face. Your throat hurt from the past few minutes of the screaming match you and Hyunjin had been in. "I'm constantly worrying, constantly hiding! And for what?!"

Hyunjin's voice was equally loud, the frustration palpable. "And you think I don't make sacrifices?! Playing damage control all the fucking time! I'm getting tired!"

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken hurts and unresolved issues. The argument had spiraled out of control, touching every sore spot in your relationship.

"You know what, Hyunjin?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Maybe we need some time apart."

His face fell, shock replacing the anger. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," you replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and heartbreak. "I can't do this anymore. I don't want to fight with you-"

Hyunjin's expression hardened. "I should have never asked you out in the first place. I guess I'm finally free from that mistake."

That sentence hung in the air, a cruel echo of his frustration and regret. The final blow to an already fragile situation.

You had intended for this to spark a moment of calm, so you could both take sometime to gather your thoughts and talk things out civilly rather than pierce each other.

You hadn't expected it go anything farther than that. Not a breakup.

You felt your heart shatter, and without another word, you turned and left the apartment. Tears streamed down your face as you walked away, leaving behind the life you had built together.

The immediate aftermath was a blur. You found yourself at your best friend's place, seeking solace and trying to make sense of what had just happened. The pain was overwhelming, and every memory of Hyunjin felt like a knife to your heart. Your friend welcomed you with open arms, offering a shoulder to cry on and a place to stay, since they doubted that you'd want to be where Hyunjin knew you'd be.

They made you a cup of tea and sat with you on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You shook your head, the words stuck in your throat. "Not right now."

Your best friend nodded understandingly. "Take your time. I'm here for you. Whether you want to cry or be angry. Punch things, break things. Whatever makes you feel better. But for right now I'm gonna take this." They gently took your phone from your hands, entering your password and blocking the sultry eyed boy; already sensing that this turn of events wasn't a kind one.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was left alone in dorms, staring at the space where you had stood before. Regret and anger battled within him, and he found himself replaying the argument over and over in his mind. He sat on the couch, head in his hands, wondering how things had gone so wrong. The words he had said echoed in his mind, each repetition amplifying his regret. "I should have never asked you out."

He knew he didn't mean it, but the damage was done. The love of his life had walked out the door, and he was left to face the consequences of his words.

He sat there ruminating on it, feeling his anger slowly melt away and turn into immense guilt and then a deep sadness that spurred an onslaught of tears when he heard the members arrive and Jeongin's voice ring out asking what you had made them for dinner.

Days turned into weeks and the void you left in his life grew more apparent with each passing day. He missed your laugh, your presence, the way you made everything feel better. But he also knew that the words he had said couldn't be taken back.

You, too, were struggling. The pain of the breakup was a constant companion, and you found it hard to focus on anything else. Your friends tried to comfort you, but nothing seemed to fill the emptiness you felt inside.

One evening, as you sat in your best friend's living room, staring at the boxes of the last few belongings you had yet to unpack in your new shared home. You couldn't help but think back to all the good times you and Hyunjin had shared. The way he used to make you breakfast in bed when you'd spend the night at the dorms, the late-night talks,. when you were and the spontaneous adventures you took- specifically the ones that were far from the public gaze where you didn't have to worry about hiding. It all seemed so distant now, yet so vivid.

BSF/N noticed your pensive mood and sat down beside you. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I miss him. I don't want to but I do. Its been months shouldn't I be over him?"

"You need to move on love. There are plenty of people who can love you better than he ever did." Your best friend stated with the conviction only that of an angry bestie could hold. "He may have been good but you can find better than that coward." You nodded along, grateful for your friend's unwavering support, but still fostering that seed of pain.

Hyunjin was grappling with his own feelings of regret and longing. He often found himself staring at his phone, contemplating whether to call you or text you. Even if he knew you had more than likely blocked him. He didn't dare text, because he didn't want to see the tangible answer to his biggest worry.

So instead threw himself into his work, using his busy schedule to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness. Rehearsals, recording sessions, and performances became his refuge. Yet, every time he stepped off stage or left the studio, the loneliness crept back in causing an ineffable ache throughout his entire being.

His friends and groupmates noticed the change in him. He was more withdrawn, quieter, his usual spark dimmed.

"Hey, you okay?" Felix asked one evening as they wrapped up practice. "You've been pretty out of it lately."

Hyunjin forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired."

Felix didn't look convinced but nodded anyway. "If you ever want to talk, you know I'm here, right? You never...really told us what happened...we want to be here to support you, you know?"

"Thanks," Hyunjin muttered, his thoughts already drifting back to you.

Nights were the hardest for the both of you. Alone in the quiet darkness, memories of Hyunjin haunted you. You didn't have his voice to fall asleep to, neither did he have your soft snores. You would often wake up, reaching out for you, to see if he was still on the line. Only to find a dark screen, only occasionally lit up with the random spam notification you got throughout the night. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, and more than once, you found yourself sobbing into your pillow, wishing things had turned out differently.

Hyunjin wasn't faring any better. He would lie awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying every argument, every mistake. The guilt and regret weighed heavily on him, making sleep elusive. He missed the sound of your voice, the feel of your hand in his, the comfort of your presence.

One night, unable to bear it any longer, Hyunjin found himself walking through the city streets, lost in thought. The bustling noise of the city was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. He found himself standing outside your favorite café, staring through the window at the place where you'd shared so many happy moments. The happiest one being the moment he had first saw you, smiling at the register happily as a new hire taking his order- only to see the cutest face of disgust he had ever seen at the mention of the word Americano.

It was a stupid way to fall, but wasn't love stupid?

The days dragged on, and the pain didn't lessen. It became a constant, dull ache that colored everything you did. Friends and family tried to pull you out of your shell, but nothing seemed to help. The weight of Hyunjin's words lingered, a reminder of how things had fallen apart.

One particularly rough day, you received a message from your workplace. Your performance had been slipping, and they were concerned. It was a harsh wake-up call, a reminder that life was still moving forward even if you felt stuck in place.

You tried to throw yourself into work, hoping it would distract you from the pain. But every little thing reminded you of Hyunjin. The music playing in the background, a passing comment from a colleague, even the smell of coffee—all of it brought memories of him rushing back.

Hyunjin, too, was struggling to keep up appearances. He would smile for the cameras, perform with his usual energy, but behind the scenes, he was a mess. His bandmates grew increasingly worried, their attempts to cheer him up falling flat.

The breaking point came one night after a particularly grueling performance. Hyunjin had given it his all on stage, but as soon as the lights went down, the emptiness hit him like a tidal wave. He retreated to his dressing room, shutting the door behind him.

He sank to the floor, head in his hands, and let the tears fall. The loneliness, the regret, the pain—it all came crashing down. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to make things right.

Your breaking point was the night you sat alone in your apartment - BSF/N on a business trip -staring at your phone. Watching the birthday live you would have never been allowed to watch if your roommate was home. The ache was too unbearable, and sparked your motivation to finally let go so you could be free from it.

Once you had hit 3 months without Hyunjin, the pain began to change. It didn't lessen, but it became a part of you, a background noise that you learned to live with. You went through the motions of daily life, but the joy and spark you once had were dulled. But as 3 months turned to 6 months which then turned to 9 months, it was almost a distant memory. And you were able to laugh again, the hollowness of your cheeks disappearing and becoming flushed with youth and your noticeable dimples once more.

Hyunjin's friends and bandmates continued to support him, but they could see the toll it was taking. He was a shadow of his former self, his passion dulled by the heartbreak. It was unnoticeable to the public - to them he seemed fine, they just minimized his dull eyes to exhaustion rather than depression. But to his best friends, it was as clear as day how hard he worked to push through every day.

"Hyunjin," Chan said one evening, pulling him aside. "You can't keep going like this. You need to start living again."

Hyunjin shook his head. "I can't move on...what if they come back- what if - what if they take me back?"

"You're never going to know unless you try talking to them," Chan urged. "You owe it to yourself, to both of you, to at least try. Seungmin has seen Y/N around. They've talked and he says it seems like Y/N is struggling as well. Even if you don't get back together, if you become friends again first..." Chan sighed. "Seungmin asked Y/N to unblock you. So I'd try reaching out."

But Hyunjin couldn't bring himself to reach out. The fear of making things worse, of hearing that you had moved on, was too much to bear. So, he continued to suffer in silence, the weight of his regret a constant burden.

For you, moving on felt impossible at first.

One evening an old friend was hosting a small get-together and wanted you to come. It was a chance to get out, to try and find some semblance of normalcy.

You had reluctantly agreed. The evening was a blur of faces and conversations, none of which seemed to penetrate the fog of your indifference until and old crush had sparked conversation with you...

Back in his apartment, Hyunjin stared at his phone, fingers hovering over your contact. He wanted to reach out, to apologize, to try and make things right. But the fear of rejection, of causing you more pain, held him back.

He set the phone down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. The silence of the apartment was deafening, each minute feeling like an hour. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

But in a spur of confidence he sent you a message. Simply apologizing as asking if it would be okay to meet up as friends.

Because he needed you in his life in some manner. He knew he couldn't live without you. And he would be content with loving you quietly, unknowingly, putting on a mask of platonic affection if it meant you'd stay around.

Which seemed to be what he would have to do, after recieving your response.

He didn't know whether to cry tears or joy or pain.

Because while you had agreed to meet him again, to spark a new relationship with him - he immediately regretted ever harboring a hope of you loving him again.

Especially after seeing your profile in his feed for the first time in a long time, causing him to wish he hadn't reached out, wish you hadn't unblocked him- wish you weren't so kind and loving to agree to be his friend again.

Because no amount of time with you, no amount of your presence could ever be enough to even cover a fraction of the pain he felt seeing a new face in your feed.

A face that mimicked the exact face he had in your company.

Eyes that mirrored the exact sentiment and display of love he felt.

The face of one who knew the one they loved was the moon in a world full of stars.

And he knew from experience just how easy it would be for you to fall for someone who gave you that-

Considering he had been that person for you once...

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @dreammix88

[luv-unknwn]

Serene

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary - ♡ you and daryl go on a run and things dont go entirely as planned....but in a good way

SMUT SMUT SMUT

a/n - ♡ ik this isnt that good i haven't slept and its almost 6 am so i aint editing it anywaysss, im watching the show for the first time rn and i just could NOT resist writing smth for daryl so enjoy!! 🤭

(changed the name cause i realized i forgot to change it so it didn't make sense pls)

"no- god damn it girl gon get us killed out here if you keep lookin round so much" daryl grabbed your wrist to pull you along the muddy trail, nearly falling on your ass from his fast pace. "keep up, quit draggin your feet"

"fuck off man its nice to get out of that damn prison sometimes and see the world even if it is filled with walkers and assholes like you" you snort, pushing forward so you're walking ahead of him. "besides, the slower i walk, the more time we spend together, and i know that you love hanging out with me so much, dont you, D?”

going on runs had become a favorite activity of yours, somehow even with daryl being such a grumpy gus, it was serene. walking through completely empty towns; the opposite of the now packed prison you were living in.

“oh come on, don’t pretend you don't love me” you giggle at daryl's annoyed look. you'd grown somewhat of a crush for daryl in the last months, as much as you wish you hadn't, it's been nice having something to focus on rather than the overwhelmingly loud but silent nights in the prison.

it was the simple head nods as you pass each other, and him asking specifically to take you on runs, always staying in front of you when something goes wrong. those were the things that really fueled this crush, which carol had pointed out to you. you'd honestly always thought there was something going on with those two but when she asked you about how close you and daryl had gotten she assured you they were only best friends.

“ain't got time for your wanderin today girl, lets go-” a twig snaps to your left. ��get behind me”

the walker stumbles out from the trees grunting, growling, and drooling toward daryl before he shoots an arrow right into his left eye. not so aware of your surroundings a walker comes out of the trees behind you grabbing onto you, you fight against its hold. just as you get a hand free to reach for your knife, daryl shoots the walker and it falls loudly to the ground.

“-shit” you gasp in big breaths of air. you reach for daryl's arm grabbing hold for stability, “thanks, D.”

“‘course, won't let nothin’ bad happen to you” you practically melt at his words and the vulnerable look in his eyes when he says it, like he's telling you an important secret he's never told anyone else.

you're so close you can feel the heat coming off his body as your eyes move from his to his mouth. never wanting something so bad in your entire life.

he's pulling away before you can even think to move toward him.

“best keep goin ‘fore it gets dark” his words are dismissive, completely ignoring the clear sparks flying between the two of you just seconds ago.

“right, you're right” clearing your throat a bit awkwardly, you speed up so you're walking ahead of him, trying to focus as hard as you can just on the task at hand.

the first few houses you search were pretty much empty save for a can of beans. the next one however had an entire cabinet filled with things you could take back to the prison, but not before you and daryl have a few snacks to refuel for the trip back.

“maybe we should stay the night here? we can hit a few houses on the way back in the morning, it's getting late and i dont wanna be walkin’ back in the dark” you suggest to daryl from the living room of the house.

“‘kay, lets find some blankets n stuff we'll camp out in here” daryl's voice is right behind you when he speaks, startling you from looking at broken picture frames of the family who used to be here.

you managed a makeshift bed on the floor with the few blankets and pillows you found in the bedrooms. you and daryl now laying there staring quietly up at the ceiling.

“were-” daryl starts to say something but stops before he can even get the first word out.

“what is it, D?” you whisper, turning your body so you're laying on your side facing him.

“were you gonna kiss me earlier?” daryl's uncharacteristically hesitant voice whispers into the quiet room.

the air in the room is suddenly thicker than before and the closeness of you and daryl seems almost too close.

“was i- was i gonna kiss you? i mean i don't know you were so close and just you know it's not like i meant t-” you're cut off by daryl suddenly pressing his lips against yours gently, staying unmoving for a few seconds until your brain catches up with you enough for you to kiss back.

the kiss deepens when you reach your hands around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, his own hands sliding down from your cheeks to your shoulders to your hips.

“daryl i- i need you,” you whisper against his lips when you pull away a bit for air.

he pulls back farther to look into your eyes.

“you sure ‘bout this?” his voice is genuine, even as his hands are already under your shirt going farther up until he reaches your bra, stilling there while he waits for your answer.

“yes, please daryl” you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this many times. daryle above you while you're begging for him.

the moment the words left your mouth he was sitting you up to pull your shirt over your head, quickly reconnecting your lips with a moan so low it could have been a growl.

daryl pulled away to reach around you and unhook your bra, letting it fall between you.

“fuck,” he sighed, letting his head fall to your shoulder at the sight of how perfectly your boobs fell naturally.

seconds later you were pushing his vest off and pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room and leaning down to kiss over his muscular shoulders. daryl's hands fell to your boobs while you left reddish-purple spots all over his throat and shoulders.

“lemme get these off baby” he was already unbuttoning your jeans when you rose to your knees to help him pull them down off your ass, sitting back on the floor so he could pull them and your shoes completely off. he was feeling up and down your soft legs, the way he was squeezing your thighs making your core tighten around nothing. “so pretty f'me.”

daryl's hands trailed up your legs to the soft cotton of your panties, he groaned when his rough fingertips grazed the wet spot leaking through them.

“lift ya pretty legs honey” he grunts out, when you listen he pulls your panties down your legs. the cool air of the room hitting your wetness makes you whimper quietly. “s'even prettier than i imagined,”

daryl pushes your knees farther apart to get a better look at you before he bring a finger up to graze your wet entrance, sliding it up to press gentle circles against your clit, making you gasp from the stimulation.

“god that feels good, please don't stop” you're whining when he finally pushes two fingers into you, starting a steady pace while keeping his thumb on your clit moving quicker each second. you're an absolute moaning mess below him, your back arching against him.

“y'like that sweetheart? like how m'fingers feel inside you, yea? y’gonna cum f’me baby?” his words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your legs shaking around his hand.

“fuck- shit you're g-” you cut yourself off with a louder moan when he quickens the pace of his fingers, “s’good at this”

“c'mon baby, cum f'me, all over my fingers. thats right, good girl.” his words are what push you over the edge, the filthy words mixed in with his gentle praise has you shaking as you ride the intense waves of your orgasm. “such a good girl f'me”

when your breathing starts to slow back to a normal pace you feel daryl pull his fingers out of you and being them up to his lips, sucking your juices off his own fingers.

“that was- wow” you saw still trying to catch your breath, legs not fully stopped shaking either. before daryl can say anything else you're reaching for his belt to undo it.

“no, s'alright. wanted to make you feel good, go to sleep” he says grabbing your t-shirt and pulling it over your head.

“but-”

“nah if ya really feelin’ up for it, in the mornin’ you can, but we gotta get some sleep tonight” daryl leans over and kisses your forehead and pulls you down to lay on his chest.

and that's exactly how you woke up in the morning, cuddled up on the floor, clothes thrown around the room, hickies everywhere.

[velvetcloxds]

Sitting on charlie swan's lap trying to get his attention/distracting him or just talking about yor day.

PATIENCE | C.S.

word count: 0.6k

warnings: age gap, talk about getting married, quickly proofread, hoping tumblr doesn't screw up my ending again

"I want to marry you," you hummed from Charlie's lap, fingers digging through his beard as you cupped his face lightly in your hands. If the man hadn't been caught by surprise by you settling right on his lap without a single word, that little statement certainly did it. He lost all interest in the game he'd been watching, abandoning his beer on the table next to him, hand instead moving to your back to support you.

"You do now?" his tone was curious giving away just how intrigued you had him with such a simple sentence, bringing it up just as easily as you'd remind him to stop for milk before coming home from the station.

"I do," you nodded and sighed, in thought as if you were picturing it, tuning out the details, and then you smiled, holding onto him a little tighter and he didn't mind, simply adoring the sight of you dreaming wide awake. "Nothing fancy, just us two and Bella, maybe Edward, definitely Billy and Jacob," you were moving, shifting so you were almost straddling him, truly the only comfortable one but he was willing to wait it out. "We can go down to city hall and I can wear a pretty white dress with big poofy sleeves and we can go to the diner afterward to have pie instead of cake, we could have our first dance as husband and wife right in this living room."

"You don't think you deserve more than that?" his hand was brushing up and down your back, soothing you, telling you that you had all of his attention, telling you to keep going.

"More than you?" you shook your head, unimpressed by the foolishness of the question, how could he think a future with him wasn't more than you'd ever deserved to begin with, let alone that you'd need more. "Got any ideas for our song?" you quipped and he shrugged, fighting a smile when you moved your hands to his head, threading through his hair as you gave your own question some thought.

"Something from the sixties," he beat you to it and the smile that dipped into your lips proved that he was on the right track. "Though I don't think it matters, I'll step on your toes no matter what," you giggled, he was very right but you didn't think you'd mind if he did.

"We'd be barefoot," you informed him, happy to edit your little dream to make it perfect. "So it wouldn't hurt as much," you added and he smiled, he didn't dare hide it, happy to see you happy, knowing that after the week you'd had, seeing you like this meant the stress was fading.

"Sweetheart," he almost purred and the softness of his voice made you shiver, leaning into him, elbows on his shoulders as you nodded to make him continue. "Is this a proposal?" he pressed and you bit your lip, considering it, and that was where your perfect plan reached a plot hole, you never decided on that part.

"Maybe," you shrugged and then shook your head. "No, it's not," you decided and you weren't all that happy to hear a car pull up in the driveway, Bella coming home from a night out with Edward. "Don't think we're ready yet, but I know we'll be ready one day," you explained and it was ridiculous, the way you wanted to melt into his arms even more, feeling silly for how sure you sounded of yourself but it made him fall in love with you even more, as simple as it was, as silly as it was, as clear as you could see your little wedding day, the future he saw with you was just as clear, now more than ever.

"And what if I'm ready now?" you bit your lip, wishing there was a way to make time stop for just a few more minutes so you could appreciate this moment with him as you tried to figure out what exactly you'd done to get so very lucky.

"Then you'll just have to be patient, Chief Swan," the kiss you gave him wasn't at all long enough for his liking and he wasn't at all impressed when the front door swung open and robbed him of you, your hand lingering in his hair for barely a second before you were skipping to the kitchen. "Hi, Bells," you sang as the teenager came into the house, met by the sight of you holding a plate full of brownies you'd baked earlier, something sweet that you needed after a long week and you were sure she needed them too. "You hungry?" you were already pulling out a little plate from the cupboard so there wasn't really a choice in the matter as she nodded.

Bella squeezed her father's shoulder as she passed him on her way to you, earning a mumbled greeting as he tried to focus on the game he was so entirely captivated by just a few minutes before but it was harder than he thought it would be. You jumped onto the counter listening to every word of Bella explaining her date in a whisper while nibbling at the chocolate treat but you were more than ready to lock eyes with Charlie as he turned around to meet your gaze.

"Marry me," he mouthed with a lovesick look, one you'd only gotten the chance to see on very rare occasions and you had to bite back a giggle as you shook your head with a slight shrug and a daring smile.

"Soon," you mouthed in reply and when he turned back to the television with a soft sigh his attention was further from football than ever before because if this was what his future would look like then he wasn't sure just how patient he could be.

[9toji]

‧₊˚✩彡 ASS, TITS OR THIGHS? — with blue lock boys! (kaiser edition) part I

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT / 18+ only

character ; michael kaiser x fem! reader

warnings ; suffocation, kaiser insists on being suffocated, face-sitting, endearments (he calls you liebling), spanking

rina's comments ; this will be a series HEEHEEEHEE ( > w < ) its kinda fluffy / crack smut

kaiser is a simple man, he thinks. not the type to watch adult films, or to indulge himself in magazines filled with women in bikinis and whatnot, but he is the type, however, to put his face in between your ass.

the man loves it, “this is the greatest thing next to soccer..” he groans, diving his face between the fat cheeks. his hands dig in to it at times, slapping it when he feels the need to. it's quite an experience, especially since you live with him, everyday he discovers something new within him.

kaiser developed a preference, gym shorts. but he also likes seeing you in jean shorts, not minding your complaints that it's itchy, as long as he could see your ass spilling from against the fabric, he is a-okay. kaiser had developed a habit of tapping (read: slapping) your ass whenever you passed by; even accompanied by a low whistle and an undiscernible hunger in his eyes.

it's the first thing kaiser grabs when he bends you over the bed. cussing and groaning as he spanks you, his hand leaving a very obvious print onto your skin. “fuck.. only the best f'me, huuh?” your boyfriend groans, biting his lip and pushing his hair back as he thrusts into you.

his knees go weak whenever your slaps against his skin, it's enough to make the man shiver. his tattoo ridden arm wraps around your torso as he takes you from behind, “don't you look nice.. bended over for me? fuck, you're such a fucking whore.” you could only moan when he grips on to you tighter, feeling his cock twitch fervently inside you.

leaning back to take a good look, and sometimes a little picture he keeps in his hidden gallery so he can indulge later. hands shaking slightly as kaiser tries to film, his hand firmly gripping to spread your ass, cooing. “look nice for the camera liebling, fuck meee... you're sucking me in so good baby.”

but kaiser doesn't just specialize in plowing you till you both pass out. oh no no no, he could have his head buried between your ass for hours. kaiser insists that it helps with his training, however you're not exactly sure how burying his face into your ass for a few hours will be enough help.

“sit on my face properly, liebling.” he orders, his hands gripping on to your waist to properly move you to the perfect spot, where he wants it to be. sometimes when he's lazy, he doesn't do much but ask you to sit on his face; but today he laps at your cunt hungrily. referring to it as his meal, served for only himself.

his hands pull your cheeks apart, to properly bury himself inside. you could feel the tickle of his blonde hair brush against your ass, while his tongue worked magic on your sopping hole. kaiser groans, thanking you for the meal and letting you collapse on to his face, making you sit there for a good while.

until he decides to lap you up again, or to bend you over how he likes.

[theflyindutchwoman]

You make that your home screen, you're gonna be running the Academy training course in a bomb disposal suit. I would never do that. It is now my lock screen. Listen, I wouldn't have gotten this stupid plaque if you didn't have my back today. So, you know, thanks. For what? Doing my job?

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 2.08 - Clean Cut

Going back to these early moments is always fascinating… To see how far they've come… How Tim was already struggling so much with keeping his wall, pretending to be annoyed with Lucy's antics, but failing miserably. Like when she takes advantage of the situation by taking so many pictures of him, using Rachel as an excuse to get away with it. He may try to use threats as a deterrent but his tone is much softer than usual. Even his grumpiness is quickly replaced by amusement. Especially once Lucy pulls one over him, by making him her lock screen instead of her home screen, finding a loophole. A simple way of showing how comfortable she is around him at this point. His jaw clench… His little smile, so bashful… How he's trying to hide it by lowering his head - not that he's fooling anyone. And this is a good way to get back at him for making those TShirts after he caught her sleeping during their night shift. And he knows it… Most importantly, he absolutely loves that she can give as good as she gets. That she isn't afraid of him and sees right through him. He may not be able to verbalise it but it is important to him. Just like it means a lot to him that she made sure he would get his award.

Or 'this stupid plaque' as he says… And that's truly a Tim Bradford thing, to downplay his own achievements. But this is someone who takes pride in his job, who actually probably found comfort in it when his personal life was falling apart. So for all his protests, deep down, it's clear that he is touched to receive it. Just like he is touched that Lucy fought so hard to clear his name and had his back the whole time. Again. Just like he had hers during her Plain Clothes Day for instance. And this leads us to this sweet moment between them, with Lucy repeating his own words from Redwood back to him… 'For what? Doing my job?'… This was really the moment where Tim showed her his softer side. Where he helped ground her. That was a turning point in their relationship, which makes her choice of words so meaningful. She is a quick learner. The way her eyes twinkles when she says them… Her smug smile… She is absolutely enjoying herself. But here's the thing : she did more than just her job. Again. She didn't hesitate to go toe to toe with a superior officer (again!), regardless of the consequences for her. As a rookie, her position is precarious but that has never stopped her. She has had Tim's back from the very beginning, looking out for him. This goes far beyond than merely doing her job.

Then again, those are the same idiots who practice kissing for 'work'… And who apparently have no understanding of the concept of personal space… In front of their colleagues. Like I said, going back to these early moments is always fascinating… To see how far they've come… And to see how some things haven't changed at all. How they've always used 'work' as a way to express their feelings without realising it.

[luciawithoutj]

Hey hi hello!

I have some things to say about new merch and jo merch in general so this is gonna be a litrle longer post and actually I think I should cange my semiotics theme (which is already about jo) about how bad their merch design is.

First of all little disclaimer: this is all my humble opionion based on what I learned in my one year of being graphic design student and an artist and designer on the internet for last 4-5 years. Before going to uni I learned most of about art and graphic design stuff by reading books and watching tons of yt videos. Second of all this critic is just coming from place of love for this band because I see so mucb potential and they could do some amazing merch designs if they give it a chance and I am fully aware how expensive the touring is and why they had to cut the quality of merch products.

So far my favorite jo band merch designs are cds (that probably required some designer to make), condoms (because they are really funny, genius, nicely designed and unique merch that fit the vibe of the band and matches their songs as well) and the new tshirt from last merch drop (which design is made by one slovenian fanartist : link.

Main reason that made me want to speak up is seeing that this merch drop will only have 100 products (my friend said that could mean 20-ish shirts per size) which how big this fandom has gotten in last year is pretty really dam limited. For a limited product I am really disappointed and I hoped for more. For such a limited product that design is the most default design they could have gone for and I am so sorry for Damon because his work is goregous, amazing, breathtaking and I could talk about it for ages and how inspiring it is but this shirt design isn't serving.

If they wanted to do bare minimum of design with those 5 images here is some of my ideas (unfortunately I don't have time to visually show them to yall on a mock ups because of finals that I should be studying for instead of writing this so try to imagine what I am trying to say and demonstrate). First is just simple instead of white choose black shirt or even better a thisrt. If you want it to go a stepp further is using their name logo font (font name is Avaline btw if anyone wants to download and use it for their designs :))) and either put it how they did when they promoted the everybody's waiting or to write idk therapy sessions or anything related to the band or it can even be some inside joke.

Something like this would make design just a bit more intersting but still bare minimum but amazing for regular merch. If they want to go a step further but want to keep the long sleeves (this idea was suggested by few people I talked too) they could put pictures vertically on the sleeves. I would find it a bit cooler if it is on the right sleeve out-side and then they put their band logo (the heart one) on the left side of the shirt where people's hearts normally are.

After exams I would definitely like to try to make some designs and just limit myself with this 5 pictures and play with typography and photoshoop to make something interesting.

Another I want to mentioned is how in my humble opinion if you are gonna sell limited edition either make it really pretty or good quality or really cursed and funny with inside jokes.

I think people (and me first) would eat tshirts (but also other merch designs) with some cursed designs or just texts that say "sparklative" or "slay pose" or "I feel SloveNACE" (this 3 were suggested by amazing people in tumblr discord server) or even let Jan photoshoop their faces on most random picture. This 5 guys with their gen z humour could make and do some hilarious merch like how amazing idea the condoms are.

Last thing I want to say is how many amazingly talented fans are. I mean even Damon was so shocked and moved by amount of talent and art made in this community. Furthermore I know (some of them as online friends and mutuals, others as just artists from same fandom) who are also either graphic design students or they work in art/graphic design/entertainment fields and some of them (including myself) would be so happy to even make few merch designs or art for them for freee or for a ticket for their show. Personally I would die from happiness if I get a chance to work with my favorite band that inspires me so much everyday to the point people at my uni think I am from Slovenia and know slovenian because of how much I include them in my uni work and how much fanart and designs I made because of them in last 6 months.

I just think there is so much potential guys might not be aware of (Idk honestly because who knows what is going on backstage in their lives). But yeah they could have even asked Damon to help them with composition of the pictures on that shirt or even hire Racik to make some pretty art or any fanartist honestly. Here is just few links of my favorite fanartists who also do a lot of graphic design related stuff (and also some of them sell their products on their own websites/redbubble/etsy/inprint/etc) :

Tia <3

Roxanne

Vic

jo.kam_ (previously mentioned her design)

Lemon

yelecx

Racik (ofc)

There is probably more but my brain for hell of it won't remember any names so feel free to add in the comments or tags more artists <3

I could probably go more in depth and give more ideas how to improve merch designs the cheapest and best way as possible but still trying to keep the quality good as it needs to be. I know there is still gonna be people fighting for this shirts and people are still gonna buy their merch but just it hurts my art/designer soul seeing this bad designs when there is so much potential and they have amazing fans and amazing crew and they work with so many talnted people and they themselves are so talented and their music inspired so many and so much.

Thanks everyone for coming to my TedTalk. <3

Actually now I am thinking and from just talking about jo work from design and semiotics perspective for that semiotics seminar I could just focus on their merch design and go more in detail about it and if yall want when it is done and I translate it in english I could share it here for people who want to read about it. Let me know I guess.

Also if someone is interested my art and design insta is lucia.without.j and my redbubble is lucia-without-j and my dms are always open if someone wants to chat or complain about anything art, design, joker out or any other fandom I am in related.

P. S. I am so sorry for any spelling mistakes and if what I said doesn't make sense. English isn't my first language.

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Sweet Notes Edition)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request here! Sorry for dropping the ball guys, these last few weeks have been really shitty. No cipher today, I’m just really tired.)

- This way of showing your love when you aren’t necessarily there is very touching and personal— Something that a person like him wouldn’t be able to parse at first, even as he’s actively reading it.

- I think it takes you consistently doing this for him to truly take it to heart, at first he thinks it’s just simple flattery, much like what those NPCs in his game were programmed to do.

- He’s so used to artificial love that when he gets something more serious and complex, even as small as love letters it’s almost cerebral in a way.

- In a way, I believe that Turbo feels as if he’s more… Real than other people— He thinks his emotions are more complex than other people like Fix-It Felix could understand, some game characters back then were more 2D, serving very minuscule purposes in their games… So… Why give them a complex set of emotions?

- I mean it took Fix-It Felix 30 goddamn years to realize Ralph had it rough as the villain of his game during and after hours, content to stay in his game where he's put on a pedestal.

- That’s telling that there is a possibility that the earlier (and possibly later) game characters can be more human through experience but it takes certain things like getting out of their comfort zones to realize things.

- I think Turbo is much of the same, but he’s more prone to getting the negativity of said experience more than the positives, that paranoid nature making it hard for him to see things more optimistically like Ralph.

- Turbo and he are cut from the same cloth, I mean the creators of Wreck-It Ralph confirmed that Turbo was meant to be the worst version of Ralph, a person like Ralph that had the potential to love and care for others, and that’s how you come into the equation.

- He comes to love you as you love him, gaining a more positive perspective on love and friendship maybe, but I think that guarded the personality of his inhibits him from extending that to anyone else besides you… His image is too important to him.

- He actively sabotages himself and others around him, even you, trying to keep you to himself, with your sweet little journal helping alleviate some of those negative tendencies.

- But it’s not enough, cause he’s that same negative guy even with your relationship, his pessimism leading him more than anything else.

- I believe these notes help him see a bit beyond it, but in all honesty, they aren’t enough.

- He loves you, and maybe even eventually reciprocates this with his own note journal, probably something he never shows you of course, neatly hidden away in some corner or some secret hidden pocket in his race suit (I mean we know he follows cartoon logic so this isn’t much of a stretch).

- I believe he’d try to convince himself this was minuscule, not enough, but he does eventually conclude that they mean something emotionally. The effort into doing this and compiling it for him to mull over when he misses you.

- Though your presence is more valuable to him than the journal, especially post-RoadBlasters when he couldn’t exactly come to you considering everyone in the arcade thought he was a game-hopping feral dog of a dead man.

- That journal becomes well-worn over the years of him mulling over it, even when some of the words rub off from him running his fingers over it he knows the words by heart.

- I think he maybe learned those persuasive speaking skills from this journal, those honeyed words giving him a little guide on how to sweet talk others, using the emotion from those words to make his lies more convincing—

- Much like how actors use the emotions from certain memories to get the perfect shot, for him it’s to win over Sugar Rush later on.

- As “stupid” as he may claim it to be it’s one of his most cherished possessions, his little lucky charm that he keeps close always.

- For him, it does count as something even if he doesn’t exactly admit it or it isn’t as obvious as the more physical way of showing love.

[vioartemis]

Mine (part 2)

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: Your girlfriend's stalker seems to know a lot about your breakup with Enid... Part 1 || Part 2 Warnings: none a/n: I struggle writing lately, but I'll try to motivate myself more because I have so many ideas 😭 (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

A few months after you started dating Wednesday, you discovered your girlfriend had a stalker. Neither of you had an idea of who it could be, but one thing was clear: this person was up to no good.

The raven had already been threatened multiple times by her stalker but didn't pay any attention to it, thinking it was just a prank. It was only when her stalker started threatening to hurt you that she started to be worried.

You were her whole life, her reason to live. She couldn't lose you; she wouldn't know what to do without you. Now that she had you, she was ready to do everything in her power to make sure you would remain hers. Forever.

Her only problem was she didn't know who the stalker was. Usually, she would have just investigated to figure it out, but she couldn't bring you with her, knowing it might be dangerous. She also couldn't let you alone while she was away, that would give the stalker a good opportunity to hurt you.

In this moment, she almost regretted you had no friends anymore. Almost. She still believed she was all you needed.

When she had to leave you, even for a short amount of time, she would ask Thing to stay and keep an eye on you, to make sure you were safe.

What she didn't know was that the stalker -whoever it was- had no intention to harm you. Not physically at least. Of course not. Even if you were to die, the pain caused to Wednesday wouldn't be enough. She had to suffer. And they had found the perfect way to do so.

One day when Weems had called Wednesday in her office, you received a text from an unknown number.

'Your girlfriend is a toxic, manipulative liar. Here are the 'proofs' of Enid cheating on you. It's Wednesday who edited the pictures and sent them to you.'

You couldn't believe your eyes. Even with the screenshots sent by the stalker -because it was obviously them- you couldn't believe it. You didn't want to.

You decided to wait until your girlfriend got back from Weems' office and confront her.

"I'm back my love, did something happen while I was gone?" she asked right away, as per usual, the second she stepped into the room

"Actually... yes, something happened. I uh... I received a text, probably from the stalker"

Wednesday snapped her head at you the moment she heard the 'yes', blinking.

"What? Show me."

You purposefully held the phone away from her.

"Answer me first; were you the one who sent me the pictures of Enid 'cheating on me'?" you asked as calmly as you could

She certainly was taken aback by your sudden question, and it was clear she was thinking of the best answer to give you.

She could lie to you, tell you she didn’t do anything. But if you had real evidence, you would hate her if she lied. More than you would hate her if you knew what she’d done.

She was going to have to tell you the truth, it was the best thing to do to make sure she wouldn’t lose you.

"Yes. It was me."

You felt your heart sink at her words. You would've never thought she would do something like that.

"... Why?"

"It was for your own good, Y/n, I-"

"For my own good? You hurt me for my own good?" you cut her off, your anger building up "You ruined a perfectly good and healthy relationship that made me happy!"

"She wouldn't have made you happy a long time. You were not meant to be. I know I am the one for you. Aren't you more happy with me, cara mia?"

She spoke calmy and took your hand in hers softly. This simple touch was almost enough to calm you down.

"I am. But this... this is not healthy. Everything is based on a lie..."

"I did it for you. For us."

"No. No. You did it for you."

The anger was back, and made you snatch your hand away from hers before continuing.

"It was never about me. You just couldn't bear to see me with someone else. You had to have me all for yourself, didn't you? No matter how that would hurt me."

"No, that is not-"

"It is. It's exactly what it is. You're just selfish, Wednesday. Did you ever even considered the fact that I might not develop feelings for you? That you might have ruined my life?"

She did not consider it, not even once. She was sure you would love her because you were meant to be, weren't you? She could feel it. She couldn't explain it, but she knew you were made for her and vice versa.

She believed you were her soulmate, but she never realized she might not be yours. That would be cruel. And not how she liked it.

"Y/n-"

"No." you raised your hand and grabbed your bag "I'm going to my dorm. Don't follow me."

You didn't let her say anything else and stormed out of her room. You were angry and felt betrayed. You just wanted to be alone.

Wednesday watched you leave, her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She wanted to follow you, to call you back, to do anything to make sure she wasn't losing you. But you told her not to, and it would upset you more if she did.

She couldn't lose you. Not now, not after everything she'd done. You loved her, she knew it. Yet, she couldn't help but feel nervous. What if you went to Enid? What if she still loved you and tried to get you back?

She didn't have news of you for the next two days. You were doing your best to avoid her, and she didn't like it. It was torture -and not the good kind.

It was torture for you too, as much as you hated to admit it. You missed her so much. It was almost concerning how fast she got you addicted to her. You wanted to come back to her, hug her, kiss her... But you were mad she lied to you. And you wanted her to understand that.

But again, you missed her. So so much. You had trouble sleeping at night without her, and during the day you just missed her sarcastic remarks, the feeling of her hand in yours, the way she looks at you like you're the eighth wonder of the world.

You just couldn't stay away from her any longer.

You barged in her dorm after classes that day and grabbed her face to kiss her, not even letting her the time to understand what was happening.

She was taken aback by your sudden arrival after three days without even looking at her, but that meant you weren't leaving her, and that was the most important to her.

She held you close, hands on your waist, while she kissed you back. She'd missed that as much as you did.

After a moment, you pulled away.

"I'm still mad at you. But I just can't seem to be without you..."

"Cara mia-"

"No, let me talk, please"

Your girlfriend looked at you and nodded, a bit nervous about what you were about to say next.

"No more lies, and no more things like that, okay?"

"Of course, mi amor. I promise you I will be fully transparent now."

You smile at her words.

"Okay, I believe you. I love you Wednesday"

She nodded at your answer. She was relieved that you believed her, that you still loved her.

If she was determined to discover who her stalker was before, now she was ready to do everything in her power to figure it out. Whoever it was, they tried to take you away from her. And that she would not forgive.

[Previous part]

[iwaoiness]

Oikawa sees the Miya's doing that damn trend twin, where've you been and, of course, he has to do it too. Not having a twin, he settles for the closest thing, which turns out to be Iwaizumi, whom Tooru manages to convince with a simple I didn't know I'll marry a coward. Later, while Hajime regrets for having fallen so easily into the game, he also manages to convince Suna (come on, Rin-chan, I know you too want to see Tsumu-chan's face when we get over his likes!) and Sakusa (we're going to screw Tsumu-chan, you're on?) to help them with the recording and editing.

It takes them eight tries in the main gymnasium of the Japanese volleyball team (Kuroo, after mentally calculating the publicity gains from the video, manages to clear the place out of the players and promises Iwaizumi to keep a close eye on them while filming). On the first attempt, Oikawa trips over the untied shoelace of his sneakers as he steps out from behind the poster and almost falls to the ground were it not for Iwaizumi acting fast and catching him while Suna snorts in amusement and Sakusa complains because who the hell ties his shoes with a simple knot, are you nine years old?

On the second try, a nervous Hyakuzawa interrupts the recording looking for Iwa-san because Hoshiumi-san challenged Hinata to find out who had the smaller head and the two somehow managed to get their head into one of the holes in the net, but now neither can get their head out and Kuroo-san tried to help, but somehow ended up getting his head stuck too.

On the third, fourth and fifth attempts, Oikawa and Iwaizumi interrupt the recording in different takes because they get the giggles.

On the sixth try, it's Sakusa's fault because he sneezes so hard that Oikawa squeals and jumps out of fright just as Suna records it in close-up (if he has saved that clip and secretly sent it to Hajime to add to his compilation video of thirty reasons and one more why I am marry Oikawa Tooru that he wants to prepare for their wedding, well, Tooru doesn't have to know about it).

On the seventh attempt, Iwaizumi forgets his lines and has to go over his part two more times with Sakusa.

On the eighth and final try, the recording is interrupted because Atsumu keeps calling Suna to mess up the video (by the fourth call, Rintaro sends him a picture of himself pulling out his middle finger and then blocks him).

But finally, after more than half an hour of suffering, several extra minutes of editing by Suna and Kiyoomi, the TikTok with the caption "when you finally meet your best friend since ever, future husband and the starting setter of the Argentina men's volleyball team Oikawa Tooru (30) on the all star match" is done.

It starts with Oikawa stepping out from behind the poster (this time without stumbling), singing twin, where've you been? Then, there's a quick jolt as a transition to show Iwaizumi walking towards the camera gesturing with his hands while singing nobody knows me like you do it. Another transition shows Oikawa dramatically rubbing his back against the net during the line nobody gon' love me quite like you. The camera switches back to Iwaizumi, who closes his eyes, raises his face upwards and holds his hand to his chest at can't even deny it; and back to Oikawa who slaps his left wrist with the index finger of his right hand (making a good show of his engagement ring) as he sings every time I try it.

In the final fragment, during the line one look in my eyes, they appear back to back. Then, they turn around, pointing the other and end by singing you know I'm lying, lying to each other.

The video is posted on the official JVA account and, in less than 72 hours, gets 100k more likes than the Miya's video. This brings Sakusa satisfaction and Suna amusement at Atsumu's absolute indignation. Kageyama comments on the video, asking if they can finally use the gym for training, and Osamu reposts it from the official Onigiri Miya account as well Matsukawa from the funeral home account.

...

oh to be an artist to stop this torture called describing dances

u can find me on my ao3 🌻

🍉

[and-claudia]

His Heir pt. 41 (Darth Maul x pregnant! reader)

Hey long time no see. Life is a shit show for me, but here's the next part of His Heir. It's not super edited, die like men, IG.

Wordcount: 3334

Taglist sign up

gif not mine

The next morning was a whirlwind of chaos. I got dressed in my everyday clothes after I got up and ate the breakfast that was brought to our room for us before heading out to attend to the list Totin had given me. He was busy with last-minute stuff and had me to check that everything and everyone was prepared for the dress rehearsal that evening. It wasn’t too long of a list and was definitely manageable, even being as pregnant as I was. 

First on the list was to make sure that the ceremony space was set up correctly. I loved Totin to death, but he was very particular about things that he has envisioned in his head. This would be no exception, and if a single thing was out of place it would upset him and that was the last thing I wanted to do. 

“This one, it’s missing a flower.” I said, pointing out one of the displays placed at the end of one of the rows. 

“Yes, we know, that’s why we placed it further back, so it was less noticeable.” One of the decorators that was with me explained. 

“No, it needs to be fixed. Nothing can be out of place or missing.” I said, continuing to look around, trying to see if anything else was wrong. 

Everything else seemed to be okay, so I sent the servant droids to round up everyone who would be in attendance for the rehearsal dinner to give them the information they would need. We were meeting in the great hall. Since the palace was so huge it took nearly half an hour to get everyone rounded up and to the meeting location. Once everyone was there and was sitting, I rose from my seat and cleared my throat to get everyone’s attention. 

“Okay, thank you, everyone, for meeting me here. I am just going to give you a rundown of how everything is going to happen for today and tomorrow. Today, after lunch, if you are in the wedding party, meet in the pre-disclosed getting-ready area for hair and or makeup for tonight.

As we all know, Totin and Dasar do not do anything small or simple and everything must be photographed and or recorded. So, please be sure your attire does adhere to the dress code for each event. I highly recommend eating at least something, because once hair and makeup are done, everyone will get dressed and then head to the ceremony space for the rehearsal and who knows how long that will take,” everyone laughed a little at that, knowing how Totin can be about his events, “Dinner will be after the rehearsal. Then tomorrow will look very similar to today but the getting ready process will start after breakfast and not lunch because the ceremony is early in the afternoon.” 

Everyone nodded along as I gave all the details. Once I was finished I allowed them to ask questions to clarify anything, then once everything was settled, I dismissed everyone to continue their day until it was time to get ready for the rehearsal. 

The next big thing on my agenda was to check that everyone’s gowns and suits were ready for them in the getting-ready areas. Maul tagged along to keep me company. 

“Okay, there should be…38 different suits in here.” I said, checking my datapad. 

“38?” Maul asked, shocked. 

“Yup… they know a lot of people. I have all their names and a picture of what they submitted to wear. I just have to make sure they match up and are labeled for the right person. And that the servant droids have pressed and steamed them.” 

“Here, give me the datapad. I’ll call out the names and what they should have and you can check them.” He offered. 

“Thank you.” I said, handing him the datapad.

I didn’t mind that he was getting the easier part of the task. It was my task to do after all, and I was fully capable of doing it alone. I was just happy to have help. 

We had gotten about halfway through the suits when there was a knock on the door. I looked at Maul with my eyebrows furrowed before calling out. 

“Come in!” 

The door opened, and in rushed Totin. He was clearly frazzled. 

“Have you seen the servant droids?” He asked. 

“No. Last I heard, they were supposed to be prepping all the dresses… why what’s wrong?” I asked calmly. 

“I can’t find my suit… Dasar has his, but mine is missing. I told them to steam and press it with all the others, but now I don’t know where it is! Dasar pressed his own and offered to do mine, but I didn’t want him to worry about it but now I am thinking I should’ve let him do it because now mine is gone! I can’t walk down the aisle naked, Yn, I can’t! Well, I could, I would look great, but this isn’t the time nor the place for that…” 

As he continued to spiral, Maul subtly flashed me the datapad. At the very bottom of the list, Totin’s name was there with what he should be wearing as well. 

“Totin,” I took a step towards him and carefully grabbed his arms, “deep breath.” I did the same to get him to do it with me, “Now, did you tell the droids to bring all suits to this room?” 

“Well, yeah. Are we missing another one?” He asked, clearly missing what I was trying to get him to realize. 

“No. Totin, all of them are here.” I said, emphasizing all. 

The relaxation and relaxation was visible all over his body. 

“It’s here?”

I nodded, “It’s here.” 

He sighed heavily, and I released his arms before leading him to the last suit hanging along the wall. 

“You’re a lifesaver. You know that, right?” 

I smiled, “I try. Now, do you want to take this with you now or do you want to send for one of the droids?” I asked. 

“I think I’ll just take it…” he said, carefully reaching up to take it off its hook. 

I continued to get everything else ready that I needed to. It was then a little over half an hour before lunch. Perfect timing. 

“Maul, I arranged to have lunch brought to the room, care to join me for a quick nap? Maker knows I’ll need one to make it through tonight.” I joked, already starting the journey back to the room. 

“It would be my pleasure.” He said with a slight smile. “Just so we’re clear, I mean an actual nap, not a handsy leading to more type of nap.” I said with a small laugh. 

“You’re no fun.” He teased, but I knew he wasn’t really disappointed, he knew I had a lot to take care of both today and tomorrow, and this rest was needed. 

Once we got to the room, we just at half an hour for me to close my eyes before the food got there. After we ate, Maul escorted me to where the ladies were getting ready before heading off to get ready himself. Although he wasn’t actually in the wedding party, he was my date for lack of a better term, so he had to get drug to all the preparations.

Since I had to go double-check that everything was running smoothly, I had to get hair and makeup done first. It was nothing fancy, just some light, natural makeup and a nice touch-up on my hair to keep it out of my face. 

Then, I had one of the girls there help me put on my dress. I used to be able to get into and out of dresses without any assistance, but being pregnant threw me way off balance, so it was nice to have an extra set of hands to help with the zipper. Then last thing to do was to put on my shoes. Tomorrow, for the wedding, I would wear actual heels to match everyone else, but I knew that if I wore them tonight as well, my feet would be beyond sore tomorrow, so with Totin’s approval, I opted to wear flats for tonight. 

Once I was ready, I made sure everyone in my dressing area was good to go and did not need anything from me before I left. Then, I made my way to where those wearing suits were getting ready. I knocked and made sure everyone was dressed before entering. Things were understandably going quicker in here. There weren’t as many needing makeup done in here, so most of them were just getting their hair touched up or fixed for the evening. In Maul’s case, he was doing a quick touch-up on his horns at one of the far mirrors. I smiled to myself, remembering the times I’d gotten to help him. I wanted to go over and offer my help now, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to make sure everything was on track. I made a few quick announcements to everyone and when there were no questions in response, I left with the handful of people that were ready and walked to where the rehearsal was taking place. 

I had a datapad once again with me. This one gave a detailed list of who walks when. It didn’t take long for more people to trickle in and so I began lining everyone up. I called out names and got them in line and told them whether they would stand on Totin’s or Dasar’s side when they got down the aisle. Dasar showed up and stood at the front of the line. It took about 10 minutes from when the last few people arrived for me to get everyone where they needed to be. Luckily, though, instead of walking individually or splitting at the end of the aisle to either side, they had decided that each pair would stand together, alternating which side they would stand on. My name was last on the list, right before Totin, which was a huge honor. I got into my spot and asked Totin if I was good to tell those inside to open the doors and begin the rehearsal. 

“Yes, that’s fine, but why isn’t Maul here?” He asked glancing to where the Zabark in question stood off to the side. 

“He wasn’t on the list…” I said, confused. 

“Well, I thought it was a given that he would be walking you down?” He said as if it were obvious, “Everyone is walking down with their partners if they have one.” 

It was only then that I realized that everyone here was a couple. 

“Oh…” was all I could say before excusing myself to go get Maul. 

He was just as confused as I was for a moment, but regardless, he came over to join me. Once we were back in line, I used the comlink to tell them to start, and soon, the huge double doors opened in unison, and music began to play. Luckily someone was at the doors telling people when to walk, so I wouldn’t have to do that as well. 

I felt a tap on my shoulder as Totin leaned down, “You didn’t really think I would let you walk down the aisle without the man of your dreams did you?” He said right before it was our turn to walk. 

I felt heat creep up in my cheeks as Maul and I walked down together. I was holding onto his arm, stealing glances up at him from time to time.

“What?” He asked quietly. 

“Nothing… I just hope the next time I am walking down an aisle after this wedding is at ours.” I said. 

Maul very rarely smiled genuinely, especially in the public eye, but upon hearing my words, he had the biggest smile out of anyone in that room. 

“It will be, I promise.” He whispered just as we got to the end of the aisle. 

We turned to go stand on the side that Totin would be on and waited for him to walk down as well.

Surprisingly, the rehearsal of the ceremony only took about an hour. They didn’t say their actual vows, wanting to save them for tomorrow. We all practiced our exit, and then it was time to head to the dinning hall for dinner. I was getting really tired as the night drug on, and after eating, my tiredness only grew. I had scooted my chair closer to Maul and had been resting my head on his shoulder. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the next thing I knew, Maul was nudging me slightly. 

“I’m so sorry.” I said quickly, glancing around to see who had seen me asleep. 

“It’s okay, Totin wanted me to come tell you that you can leave. We both know you have been on your feet all day, making sure everything was running smoothly. Which we thank you for, so much. Go get some rest. We will see you tomorrow.” Dasar said gently. 

“Tell him I said thank you.” I said before turning to Maul. 

He stood up before helping me do the same. He bid Dasar a goodnight before leading us out of the hall. The walk to the room felt like it was taking ages. When we finally got there, the moment we were in the door, I was already turning my back to him to get him to help take my dress off. He undid the zipper and carefully helped me out of it. Then he took the garment over to the wardrobe to hang it until the housekeeping droids came to get it. He brought me a tunic to sleep in, as I sat down on the edge of the bed. 

The next morning was a whirlwind of getting ready. I allowed myself to sleep in a little later and just get ready in my room instead of with everyone else. The golden dress fit perfectly and complemented Maul’s tan suit nicely. 

“That’s a good color on you.” I commented as he fixed the jacket in the vanity mirror. 

He hummed in response. 

“I am almost ready. I was just going to repolish my horns one last time.” He said, grabbing what he needed from his toiletry bag. 

“May I help?” I asked. 

“Of course.” He said, moving to sit down in the chair, which I had used to do my makeup earlier. 

I admittedly took longer than I needed to with the task, wanting to soak up every moment of calmness before the inevitable chaos of today started. 

“We need to get going, love.” Maul finally said gently. 

I nodded, “I know…”

Without a word, he stood up and walked me back to the bedroom to help me with my shoes. Then, before I knew it, we were watching Dasar walk down the aisle for real. Their vows were absolutely beautiful. You could really tell how much they loved one another. I slightly cursed my damn hormones as my eyes began to water when they kissed. Maul subtly pulled out a small handkerchief and passed it to me so I could wipe my eyes. 

After the ceremony, there was about an hour lull to allow everyone to change into the reception attire. This dress was a lot more fun than the one I had worn to both the rehearsal dinner and the ceremony. It had sequins that were sure to catch the light and shine and sparkle all night long…or as long as I would last. 

Maul didn’t really change, instead, he just removed his suit jacket, leaving him in just a tan vest over a white button-down. 

Once we were both dressed, we made our way to the grand ballroom, where the reception was to take place. Once again, we were lined up in the same order we were in for the ceremony; however, now, both Dasar and Totin stood behind Maul and me. Someone with a datapad was going down the row asking everyone how they would like to be announced upon their entry. I was a little shocked when they stopped before they got to Maul and me but Dasar told me to just trust him. 

It wasn’t too long before we were next. I was a little confused by what Dasar had said… how were they going to announce us? 

“Now welcome, Lord Maul, Lady Mand'alor Yn, and their heir to Crimson Dawn!” The DJ said, causing a huge uproar of applause as Maul and I walked in. 

I was a bit embarrassed that he included our titles, but everyone here knew of those titles, I just didn’t want to take away any attention from them. Also, under different circumstances, the mention that our son was the heir to a crime syndicate wasn’t something I wanted to be announced; however, again, everyone here already knew that. 

Within no time the party was in full swing. The formalities like cutting the cake, the first dance, and parent dances were all over and now it was time to have fun. I found a few old friends of Dasar and I and danced with them as much as I could. And I must say, despite my center of gravity being completely thrown off, I held my own pretty damn well and was still able to get down. Unfortunately, one aspect of the pregnancy I couldn’t work around was the fact that I get winded much faster now. Unfortunately, I had to take frequent breaks between dancing to catch my breath. 

Maul was dotting over me the whole time, though. Anytime I came off the floor to sit down to take a breather, he was right there with a glass of water for me. However, eventually, I couldn’t keep going much longer and I knew my night would be coming to a close soon. 

I walked off the floor to sit down again and was surprised when I couldn’t find Maul anywhere. Regardless I took a seat, figuring he may be off getting himself a drink or something and would return soon. Which he did. He sat next to me in his chair and grabbed my hand.

“You doing alright?” He asked over the music. 

“Yeah… getting tired, though. I think it may be time to call it quits.” I said with a laugh, though I was very serious. 

“Do you have the energy for one more dance?” He asked. 

“For you, always.” I said with a smile. 

The song that was playing ended, fading into a much slower song. One that I recognized quickly. It was one of my favorite slow songs. Maul stood up and offered me his hand. I took it and he helped me stand before leading me to the dance floor. He held me close to him, and I leaned into him, cheek resting against him. I had slipped off my heels earlier in the evening so he was quite a bit taller than I was now. 

“I love you.” He whispered mid-song. 

“I love you too, Maul.” I said, pulling back just enough to look up at him. 

“I had the housekeeping droids pack our things already. They left us both something to sleep in and something to wear tomorrow to depart in.” Maul said quietly. 

“What? We’re supposed to stay a few more days.” I said, confused and slightly hurt. There was still more celebrating that would happen. Admittedly, they would be much more of a party atmosphere with drinking and even possibly some spice, I wanted to be here for it, for my friend. 

“I know you wanted to stay, but I have arranged something for us, with the help of Dasar and Totin. They said we could return later after the baby to celebrate with them again.” He explained. 

“Okay… what are we doing?” I asked still confused. 

“That is a surprise.” He said with a small smile. 

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[hooked-on-elvis]

The Green Scrapbook 📗

Why is Elvis a legend? Simple answer: HARD, HARD WORK... on and off stage.

That's the most interesting thing I've learned about Elvis lately.

This fanzine was out… it is called "Elvis Answers Back!", printed by Sound Publishing Corp in 1956 (view photo 8 and video 1 further on). In its pages, Elvis answer questions about his career and personal life in that genuine way we love so much about his interviews. There's very interesting answers in those pages (I'll share more in this blog in a while) but this one got me in awe. What we're about to read Elvis did in the 50s, while he was in the peak of his success as a young artist, specifically in the year of 1956, it's a demonstration of his courage, down-to-earth spirit, and a passionate level of dedication to his craft that few artists, or normal people for that matter, have.

Some of the pictures printed in the Elvis Answers Back! magazine: August 18, 1956. Elvis at the Knickerbocker Hotel, Hollywood, CA. Photograph by Ed Braslaff.

The magazine article is in topics. This one is entitled "THE GREEN SCRAPBOOK", and here's what Elvis had to say about this "rumor":

"Yes, it’s true that I keep me a scrapbook of a lot of the stuff that’s printed about me. But you know something? I don’t save the articles or stories that tell nice things about me. My scrapbook only has stuff in it that isn’t very friendly. I’ll tell you why this is. "When I first started out, my momma wanted to save all the programs and pictures and things that everyone put in the papers and magazines. I wasn’t much interested in doing this, because I was so busy singing and working and learning that I just didn’t want to take the time to sit down every so often in the middle of something and start cutting out pictures and things. Momma bought her a big green scrapbook, though, and asked me to send her stuff whenever I got the chance. For the first year or so, I didn’t send her a thing, and the scrapbook was empty, except for a couple of clippings she got out of the Memphis papers.

Some of the pictures printed in the Elvis Answers Back! magazine: (1) June 30, 1956 in Richmond, VA. Elvis drinking water after having a bowl of chili, sitting at the Jefferson Hotel lunch counter; (2) Elvis at the RCA's Studio One in NY, for a recording session on July 2, 1956, when he recorded "Hound Dog" and "Don't Be Cruel." Both photographs by Alfred Wertheimer.

"Then one day I saw this article about me not being a very good singer. I cut that out and send it to momma and she wrote back and told me I didn’t want to fill my scrapbook with things like that. But I wrote back and told her, 'Momma, anyone can fill a scrapbook with good things. But what good does it do? I’d like to know the things people don’t particularly like and study them and try to make myself better if I can.' "So that’s how The Green Scrapbook got started. I’ve got a lot of pages filled, and a lot of them are still empty, but I’ll tell you this. Every time I go home to Memphis, I take down that scrapbook and study it. I know most of the things in it by heart, and I’m always going to do my best to improve whenever and wherever I can." — Elvis Presley, 1956 interview.

Cover of Elvis Answers Back! magazine, published on August 28, 1956 | Source: elvis100percent.com

SEE THE CONTENT IN THE PAGES OF THAT 1956 ELVIS MAGAZINE (this is an US limited edition reproduction of the 1956 original magazine):

Thanks "Collecting King Elvis Interviews and Memobilia" Youtube channel for sharing this gem.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE

I just crossed an interview of Elvis for the Hy Gardner Show ("Hy Gardner Calling") on July 1, 1956 (right after Elvis' performance on the Steve Allen Show). Hy Gardner asked Elvis if he reads the reviews on his concerts and he answers it with "Not if I can help it". Then Gardner goes on in the same matter and asks him further, "Do you keep a scrapbook at all?" -- Elvis' answer to this: "Only of the good stuff." -- We can figure, although Elvis had the Green Scrapbook probably since 1954, considering he said 'When I first started out, my momma wanted to save all the programs and pictures (...)', it was around mid 1956 that Elvis consciously decided to face his detractors more often and make a good use of their critics to help him improving his act. Fascinating. It's fascinating for a young man as talented, handsome and successful as he was, to pause the rush of excitement going on within himself just so he could think things through. Elvis was enjoying a tremendous amount of success already, so it would be more convenient to just have fun and let it happen while it lasted. 1956 was THE year when everything he ever dreamed about was happening at once in his life and he couldn't be more excited and thrilling with the attention he was getting from all over, yet that young man had the maturity to understand he had to keep working hard so he truly could have something worth sharing with the world, something better to offer to the people who seemed be starving for more of him. Fascinating.

WATCH THE FULL HY GARDNER INTERVIEW WITH ELVIS (July 1, 1956):

[dflogerzi]

I must have lost my mind... my comprehension... or priorities.

I am truly reeling. Fully, and by all sides of the arguments over a photo. There has not been so much of a bruhaha since the hordes of humanity were storming stores in search of toilet paper. It truly is blowing my mind.

Okay trying this again after once before as a Reblog to another today. But I have a few things to say and then I am going to leave this lay. I have NO idea if this will be long or short. But I am dang well hoping I feel better afterwards.

So there I was this afternoon, early, the phone rings. And it is my daughter-in-law whom has not called me since the second week of November. I see her name on the caller id, take a deep breath, and... she wants to talk about Catherine. What???? How about home, hearth, family, and the state of relationships? But okay. I went with it.

I am going to start this, what I hope is a mini-vent off with what I think of the photo submitted first. There is NO doubt it was a huge blunder. The week proceeding was already a fire storm demanding proof of life, relationship, and just about everything else you could throw into the mess. This was no time to release anything touched up whatsoever, and even for myself who loves and supports this wonderful person... the lack of wearing at the least her wedding band was just not a good look to send out worldwide. I do not care WHEN she wears or does not her dang rings privately. But now was not the time. I do believe she had good intentions and was just being naive. But she has been around the block for over two decades and firmly involved and in the trenches to what amounts to a modern-day War of the Roses.

Someone did not have her back.

Now to my main points, real concerns, and what are the TRUE problems, according to just little me, sitting in my cheap director's chair and calling out the scenes currently playing on the world stage.

People. This is going to pass. This is just the latest in the drama and the saga since Meghan Markle hit the royal family. The real danger from my view is not the photo or Catherine's intentions. The escalation and apparent hysteria of what could be real danger is truthfully what is my focus. When news agencies are checking the place of origin, metadata, timestamps, editing, and making judgements on integrity and the future of the monarchy based on a simple photo for Mother's Day... we have a HUGE issue. It is now far past time for the Wales family to be better secured, the British government to step in and take care of the obvious dangers that are growing exponentially, and priorities addressed as to the future.

I am FAR more concerned about William and his family at this point being safe, secure in where they are living, and the future of each of them an absolute priority. It is time for all involved with their protection and well-being to deal with what is so obviously happening. And I feel for William who most likely has the world, literally, on his shoulders. But it is for him to take the first stand.

This is not about a photo. This is a shot over the bow on the global stage.

Catherine dearest. Just heal please. Take care of you first. I will continue to keep you close in thought. You have given everything in honor, love, and duty for over 20 years. You take the time you need.

Going to publish this bad attempt at writing I suppose. Hope the madness ends soon. And I do not mean about a simple picture meant as a greeting to Mother's around the world...

[heaven2me]

home is where the heart is → lando norris

summary: lando comes home to y/n in their new home

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: just a soft lando

not edited!!

lando tried his hardest to sneak his way into the bedroom, feet light on the floor in hopes of not waking you up, his gaze locked on where you were wrapped beneath the covers. he could just make out the top of your head and his heart gave a solid thump in his chest as he thought about all the future nights you guys would have together in this house. he hated leaving you for races, knowing how limited your time together was, but he couldn't deny the feeling that spread over him on his way back, when he just wanted to be held by you after an exhausting weekend.

he was quick in getting ready for bed, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in your warmth and within minutes he was slipping into the covers behind you, careful when lifting up the duvet. his lips quickly turned into a soft smile when he spotted you wearing one of his mclaren sweaters and he couldn't deny that seeing you in his clothes had him falling even more in love with you. these had been the best 3 years of his life and this house will forever be sentimental to him as it’s your guys’ first one together. as he snuggled into the warmth he was reflecting on how grateful he was to have you by his side no matter what.

you'd tucked yourself up on lando’s side of the bed and that paired with his sweater had him wondering if you'd missed him just as much as he'd missed you. he knew that for the weekends you couldn’t make it to his races, it was hard for you to be alone. just like this one. he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you and he hated the thought that you'd fallen asleep alone. he let out a little sigh as he shuffled up behind you, his hand lightly skimming your waist as he pressed a soft kiss against your cheek.

he let his lips linger for a few seconds, a silent way of saying hi despite the fact you were fast asleep. your lush scent washed over him and he was already starting to feel drowsy, his head settling back on the pillow behind you, just as you shuffled back against him. you made a low noise, your fingers holding his before you tugged his arm to wrap completely around you, his chest now pressed flush against your back. he wasn't sure if you were awake or whether it was subconscious but, he didn’t care and he settled in and kissed your forehead, his fingers squeezing yours. his confusion was cleared however when he felt your own lips against his knuckles.

"you're home." your voice was soft and still full of sleep and lando could picture you struggling to keep your eyes open, a tired smile tugging at your lips and that image paired with your words had him hiding his own smile in your hair. there was something mumbled like “i’ll always come home to you” which had your tummy in knots.

"didn't mean to wake you up, baby." he said

"s'okay, wasn't really sleeping." he knew you were lying but he ignored it anyways, tightening his arm around your waist and pulling you even closer to him. "so proud of you, you did amazing this weekend. i watched all i could" your words were muffled by a yawn that you tried to hide in his arm but he just laughed lightly, his thumb reaching up to tap against your lips.

"it was great but i can tell you about it in the morning, go back to sleep yeah?" you shook your head and then you were turning between the sheets to look at him. “hi”

"hi, baby." lando’s grin grew even more at the term of endearment and he leant in closer to you, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw to pull you in closer. he watched your lashes flutter shut before his lips met yours in the softest of kisses, his thumb brushing beneath your bottom lip as you melted into each other. it was a simple kiss, a gentle brush of lips but it said so much without either of you actually needing to say anything and despite the simplicity of it, it still had his head spinning and his heart thumping in his chest.

he was slow in pulling back, pressing a long kiss to your forehead as he tucked your hair behind your ear and then you were burying your face in his chest, his arms pulling you closer to him. his chin settled against the top of your head and he let his eyes fall closed, more than content with being tangled up with you. your fingers traced along his back, nails scratching comfortingly over his skin until sleep started to creep up on both of you and the last thing you heard was "home is where the heart is, so wherever you are i’ll come back to,” you were drifting off but before you did you ended with a gentle “i love you,”