#i remember that one person who was always waiting with a spark just in case he got a unit

[gifti3]

i cant believe i forgot about you, im so sick

[requiemforthepoets]

hey, are you still there? 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[cthulhuwritesstuff]

Let’s talk about escapism.

In case of these two peculiar lovable dummies, escape from reality they face on daily basis (not to mention that those realities are also what both of them believe they deserve) is being with each other.

Both realities are quite different (which is the issue number one), and at this point, I believe we all know what those realities are.

However, when brought down to crisp clear simplicity: they both suffer from tremendous amounts of guilt and are both in trauma-induced, nerve-wracking, depressing state of survival mode. They understand each other very well, because it takes one to know one, but neither of them is allowed to see that. It is more of an instinct that they do not question in fear of breaking their little kaleidoscope image of a fantasy where they just are.

Means of escape in this case is sex, where both of them get to let go of that baggage for a while and ignore the existence of it altogether.

This tactic, no matter how enticing and addictive, is still just a means to an end, and it has a low shelf-life expectancy.

They are both aware, partially or subconsciously, of this engagement and are both unwilling to to let go of it because “You are the only thing that makes me feel alive and not just like I am surviving Hell.” (Literally)

BUT, as long as it’s not addressed head on, it is not real and it can’t hurt them, and as we already know — real things in their lives hurt them and are what makes them miserable.

Stolas is aware of that. He is way ahead of Blitz when it comes to that realization.

Stolas himself mentions the adoration and fear he has toward their escape method several times, in his songs.

Stolas not only knows he’s at risk of losing his escape method, but due to him bringing these feelings he had developed for Blitz forward into his reality, they suffocate him just like the rest of his life does. He has no capacities to rationalize it all, he has never healed. So he convinces himself, despite hope and reason, that Blitz doesn’t want the real him.

He had made this decision even before Blitz came in, whether he liked it or not. The spark Blitz brings into his life is far too small to battle the overbearing guilt of simply existing. He trained and fed that monster for years.

His hope sounds more like foolishness and naïveté to him, because “How can someone love me?”

So he leaves the situation before the conflict begins, because that is how he copes. He wants to escape the crashing “reality he deserves” (which is being all alone and sad), and no matter how much we know that’s not true, right now, Blitz is a part of that reality for good, not his escape method anymore.

Stolas’ image is all he has, and keeping himself composed is literally all he has left when he finally faces Blitz. When Blitz doesn’t allow him to leave, doesn’t understand why he is being “dismissed” and challenges him, the dam breaks and Stolas now forces him out to get some of his equilibrium back. That creates a whole new problem I cannot wait to see addressed in the future episodes. Stolas will most probably overcompensate for that last “show of weakness” in some way. Let’s remember: Blitz had never seen Stolas cry before, and honestly, I don’t think anyone who matters has.

On the other side, Blitz has the realization of “this is real” the moment Stolas offers him the crystal with no strings attached.

“I can always do better” said after Stolas had already placed his freedom on the palm of his hand is him asking not to be forced to face the fact that this is not just a fantasy world anymore.

“Keep it the way it was because that doesn’t hurt” might be the words to go by, and Blitz— no matter the fact that he hears exactly what Stolas is telling him and understands it, too — is now terrified.

Because Blitz is not good enough. He is not a reliable person. He is trash. He is at the bottom of the food chain. He is a murderer. A selfish, heartbreaking freak. He is a hypocrite and a pervert. He is undeserving of understanding, of comfort, of grace.

And that feeling of instant pain and rage you get when you read those words is exactly what he fights against each day while telling all those things to himself.

None of it true, yet Blitz believes it wholeheartedly.

He attempts to push that away again by slipping into the all-too-easy role play, into silly make believe, not because he is cruel, not because he is obtuse, but because he is desperate to keep the door to his escape route open. To keep the fantasy going, because he has no capacities to realize his feelings (or Stolas’ feelings) yet.

And when he is, yet again, cut off, is where the fight or flight kicks in and his inner voices start screaming.

There must be a real, tangible reason that Stolas is doing this. There must be some kind of an endgame that Blitz can understand. Blitz needs his equilibrium back now, and there’s the point of breaking.

Stolas is probably getting bored of him. Stolas now knows what he likes and that he can get it anywhere he wishes, so he is throwing Blitz away and trying to masquerade it as a kind gesture. And to Blitz, who takes pride in standing his ground and never backing down, who despises being looked down on and being pitied, this is absolutely infuriating. It is downright insulting.

Rage pours forth, and he is borderline incoherent, but everything he says is a precise image of what he thinks of himself first and what he wants Stolas to do second. There is nothing to land on however, Stolas is not his escape anymore, so when Blitz falls into anger, he burns to crisp and says things he doesn’t mean.

Escaping into Stolas was all too easy and he had taken it for granted — both of them had. Stolas shows this by, even for a moment, hoping Blitz would say “yes, I will stay” at the drop of a dime, and Blitz by expecting Stolas to take everything he dishes out, bear traps and insults included, and still want to be around him.

Neither of these things happen, neither gets to escape themselves. The spell is broken and now they are both hurt, they are both alone. They are equally at fault when it comes to that fight and they are equally overdue for facing their own demons. They were, at the end of the day, singing two different songs and there was no room for really understanding the other side when there’s already so many assumptions, insecurities, self-hatred and conclusions about what they had birthed from pain and previously accumulated fear.

We are not supposed to be told this straight up through the show. Neither of them is supposed to say this aloud because real life doesn’t work that way, and I love that. It is very raw and visceral and it is very well crafted.

As I said before, I will say it again: miscommunication in this episode was done flawlessly and I cannot wait to see how it all gets resolved.

[boldlyvoid]

I Know Places 2: Minimal Loss

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: Away on a case with Reid, he and our dear reader are held hostage by Libertarian Cult Leader, Benjamin Cyrus. It's now Aaron's turn to try and keep his cool while Leading the Hostage Recovery and Support mission at the same time he's realizing he's fallen in love with his subordinate…

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (child sexual assault, hostage situations), hurt/comfort, Drug use tw, unrequited love (so he thinks), mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, drug-induced love confessions

Word count: 10.3k

It’s weird being in the office without her. She flew out to Colorado with Reid last night, the two of them stayed in a hotel (one with two queen beds this time) and she texted him this morning before she headed out for the case. He missed her. He missed picking her up this morning. He missed their coffee banter and how every morning without fail she got the same breakfast that always left his car smelling like a buttery croissant.

He smiles to himself as he thinks about her. He wonders how she’s doing, he can’t wait to call her tonight and catch up… hopefully, the interviews don’t take more than a day. He’d miss her too much if he didn’t get to see her tomorrow too. Maybe he could pick them up from the airport? No. She drove herself and Reid there, so maybe he’ll bring her a baked good and they can watch TV together? Either way, he wanted to see her as soon as she got home.

When they were approached by Colorado child protective services, they received a copy of the 911 call that sparked the investigation and a short summary of the alleged unsub. Libertarian cult leader, Benjamin Cyrus of the Fringe Religious group called the Separatarian Sect. was being accused of being inappropriate with the young teenage members. The age of the caller who made the 911 call is 15. This was a crime, no matter what the libertarians personally believed, under Colorado state law, he was breaking the law by having any kind of sexual interaction with a minor.

Sending Y/N and Spencer was a no-brainer. They couldn’t send JJ because she was pregnant, but they wanted a woman there to make the children feel safe. Spencer went because he’s memorized the entire bible and most historical quotes, he’d be able to deal with a libertarian cult leader the easiest. He had faith in—

“HOTCH!”

With his door open, he’s able to hear Morgan's scream even better, he’s immediately up and out of his seat, rushing towards the door when he notices everyone watching the TV.

“The TV, Y/L/N and Reid,” he points to the screen.

The report on screen is standing a few miles from the compound, showing footage from a raid and cutting back to his face as he speaks. “No one knows for sure how many people are inside. It is believed that at least three child service members are still trapped inside the compound.”

His heart drops into his stomach as if he just fell 30 feet in 10 seconds. His eyes widen, he steps towards the railing outside his office and grips the metal pole for dear life.

This can’t be happening.

She can’t get hurt.

He can’t lose her too.

Just then every single phone in the office starts to ring, he’s pulled back to reality and he catches his breath, “alright, that means we’re the lead with Hostage Rescue and Support. Let’s go!”

He runs to his office and grabs his go bag, he shoves his phone in the bag, makes sure his gun is still on his hip and his badge and wallet in the back pocket of his suit pants. He doesn’t bother bringing his suit jacket, he honestly doesn’t even remember to take it as he bounds down the stairs and runs to the elevator.

They all rush to the plane as quickly as possible, it’s always fueled and ready to go, so getting into the air takes less than 15 minutes. Once in the air, they open up their laptop and Penelope patches over a live feed of the Colorado news.

“It turned deadly when the Colorado state police officers tried to serve a warrant. Colorado attorney general, Jim Wells, says the reclusive cult has been the subject of a 6-month weapons investigation”

“6 months?” Morgan repeats. “We didn’t check?”

“Oh, we did,” JJ pipes up, visibly pissed. “I had ATF call Wells and he told ATF there were no pending state investigations. He lied.”

“Why?” Rossi asks, not understanding why he’d lie about that.

“Wells is challenging the governor in the upcoming election,” JJ explains. “He thought that ATF were going to poach his big election-launching weapons bust. Now, it’s clear he didn’t know there were FBI agent’s there, he just thought the best time to serve a state warrant was when the kids were safe inside the school being interviewed.”

“What do we know about the sect?” Rossi poses the question to the group.

Penelope, listening in on a video call the whole time, flips the screen from the news to her face. “Liberty Ranch was founded in 1980 by Libertarian Leo Kane. He created it as a self-sustaining commune.”

“Libertarians believe that everyone has the right to do what they want as long as they aren’t infringing not eh rights of others,” Derek points out.

“But libertarians aren’t religious,” Dave reminds them. “Clearly this sect abandoned libertarian principles.”

Aaron takes a deep breath, he’s still anxious, and his heart is racing but he has to get his head in the game. “Benjamin Cyrus, the current leader, introduced religion 8 years ago when Kane left.”

“Garcia, what do we got on Cyrus?” Derek asks her.

“Oh, we got bupkis,” she sounds disappointed. “It's like the guy never cast a shadow on the known universe… however his predecessor, Leo Kane, is doing a 17-year stretch at Deerfield Federal Prison… apparently libertarians do not like paying taxes.”

“17 years for tax evasion?” Derek laughs.

“Oh no, that would be 2 years for tax evasion and 15 years for going after four IRS agents with a Louisville Slugger…” Garcia pressed her lips together awkwardly, what a dumb crime to commit.

“Let’s have Kane brought to the scene,” Hotch instructs her to get the paperwork going. “He’s our best chance at finding out some idea of who we’re dealing with.”

“You got it,” she cheerfully agrees and turns off her camera.

They all settle into their plane seats then. It was a 3-and-a-half-hour flight, all he could do was prep negotiation teams and worry about Y/N. He worried for Reid's safety too, of course, Spencer was like a son to him… his heart just yearned for Y/N and after losing Kate, he can’t bare going through that kind of loss again and so soon.

He felt as though he was destined to only know what it was like to be left, not loved. He had such a tumultuous relationship with his ex-wife, being high school sweethearts also came with high school drama. He graduated a year before her, he was in college and she wanted to see other people. So they took their first break. He was doing law school and she was in teacher's college and they took a second break because his studying took up too much of his time and she felt as though she needed physical attention he couldn’t give her… then he went to Scotland Yard, back when he didn’t know if he wanted to work for Interpol or the FBI and once again distance caused them to go on break a 3rd time. He met Kate Joyner, they had a thing and when he returned to the States he asked Haley to marry him. He should’ve known that she would run once his attention shifted to things other than her. He thought maybe having a baby would change that about her. He thought maybe she loved him— loved their family enough to stay.

He was wrong.

Now he’s divorced, Kates dead and… and he thinks he might be falling in love with his subordinate.

He takes a moment to go to the bathroom on the jet just for a chance to get away from everyone. He leans against the sink and puts his hands over his face, shaking his head with disbelief. It all happened so fast. One minute they’re co-workers and he enjoys working with her and the next she was filling the void in his heart. Mind you, he knew her when he was married, he didn’t have the capacity to see her as anything other than a friend… now that’s all changed.

He took the ring off and his heart searched for warmth. For comfort. For morning coffees and laughter on the drive to work. For late-night chats and gossip about celebrities. For a hand to hold. For a body to cuddle into in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. For someone to care for him. For Y/N.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to do this. How he’s going to stay calm and cool and collected while he knows she’s in there? He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she’s hurt. He isn’t sure how he’ll make judgements and do the negotiations knowing that every decision he makes could have consequences.

He heads back to his seat to see everyone else is also doing their best to stay calm. They all love Reid and Y/N, and each of them wants to bring their friends home in one piece… he’s not alone in being anxious and worrying for their safety. Maybe he can play it off, maybe they won’t guess he loves her in a way that differs from how they do.

—

Once they land they’re met with bureau issues SUVs and given an escort to the crime scene, all their sirens on, they speed down back county roads causing dust to fly behind them and rocks to flick up from under their wheels, hitting the car behind them.

When they arrive at the Hostage Negotiation and Support Command Centre, Aaron lets Morgan and JJ head in to set up and he pulls Dave aside. “They’ve left the choice of negotiators up to me.”

“I taught most of the hostage negotiation unit,” Dave reminds him. “You want a recommendation?”

“I’m making you lead negotiator.”

“Me?” Dave can’t believe him.

“why go to the students when I have the teacher,” he simplifies his decision.

“because the teacher is emotionally involved,” Dave spits back. “So is the agent in command.” He stares Aaron down, watching for any facial moment that would give way to just how much he cares for Y/N. Of course, he knew.

He gives in, looking down to the ground, he can’t explain how much this is hurting him. “I know I am. This is a unique situation. We have two agents who could affect the outcome on the inside.”

“True, but I can’t be objective. I know them too well!”

“This outcome depends as much on our ability to predict the moves of Y/N and Reid as much as it does Cyrus,” Aaron explains. “That’s why you’re the best man for the job.”

“Assuming that Spencer and Y/N—” he puts weight on her name to make Aaron know he caught that. The use of her first name and Spencer's last, it’s a hierarchy of needs. He knows Aaron subconsciously wants her safe just the tiniest bit more than Reid. “Are still in a condition to make moves.”

“I-I know how bad this is,” Aaron says, voice dropping down to a whispered tone. “That’s why I want you doing the talking. I need you doing the talking.”

“Alright,” Dave gives—.

“You’re obviously not in charge, I can see that!!!” A man's voice bellows through the air.

“I’m sorry sir, I’m under direct orders from the FBI,” one of the hostage negotiation team members explains.

“I’m the attorney General of this state, I demand to know why I wasn’t told the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Separatarian Ranch?”

It’s Wells. The man who got them stuck in the position, to begin with.

Aaron starts walking away from Dave, driven by anger, he walks right up to the man. “The only thing that you’re in a position to demand is a lawyer.”

“Who the hell are you?” The man asks as if he’s about to laugh at Aaron's voice of authority.

“I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who’s going to tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you obstructing a federal investigation of negligent homicide,” Aaron spits back, getting more in this man's face.

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

Aaron takes another step in, towering over the man, “Get off my crime scene.”

And just like that, the man cowers, running away to his car and driving away.

Aaron turns to the other man, the one who was trying to answer Wells’ questions before. Aaron knew him from the bureau. “Hey Dan, you know Dave Rossi?”

“Sure do,” Dan smiles, reaching over to shake Dave's hand.

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” Dave jokes.

“Waco, Ruby Ridge, Freeman standoff,” Dan recounts. “Let's hope someone listens to you guys this time.”

“Oh, they did more than listen. They put us in charge,” Dave announces, hands on his hips, ready to go.

“So bring us up to speed?” Aaron asks.

“I've sent the state police packing. They started this mess and lost a man in the process. I hope that’s okay?”

“If you hadn’t we would’ve.”

“Good.”

“The county Sheriffs have had no run-ins with the sect, so we’re using them as support. We’ve had no contact with them so far. they’re got power. Solar. We can shoot out the panels if you think—

“No, no that’s an escalation,” Dave shoots that down.

“Okay, that means they have access to the news,” Dan reminds them.

“I’ll get JJ to talk to the press. Are your men ready to be briefed?” Aaron asks. Dan nods. “Let's go.”

Inside the trailer they’ve set up for secure meetings, Derek, Dave and Aaron start to give the preliminary profile and brief. There’s only a handful of men, which is best. Having too many cooks in the kitchen leads to chaos. 6-10 people, that’s much more manageable.

“We call this the Minimal Loss scenario,” Dave explains. “Every person we get out is a life saved. We won’t save them all. All of us have t be prepared to accept that situation.” He looks over at Hotch and then presses his lips together awkwardly.

Derek steps up to the whiteboard and picks up a marker, “cults are structured like pyramids.” He explains while drawing a triangle on the board. “You got the leader at the top, die-hard believers beneath… and the biggest group, the base. The followers.” He makes a point to circle that group and look at the other men. “Women and children are in this group. These are the people we can save.”

“The ‘trickle, flow, gush’ strategy is designed to get the base followers out,” Aaron explains. “First one or two, then three or four, then as many as we can, as fast as we can. And if at any point it starts to go bad. We go in.”

“The leaders are charismatic sociopaths who target the most susceptible to their seduction. They have the ability to see what each person needs and then they become that thing. We have to undermine their perception that we’re an invading army laying siege to their homes,” Dave explains.

“We’ll lose the fatigues,” Dan assures them. Losing the army look will make them much more approachable. “Ranchers clothes work for you? Like we did at the Freeman standoff?”

“Perfect. Anything we can do to demilitarize the situation,” Dave agrees. “But that’s about it… we have to make first contact and then we can act accordingly from there.”

“We have a phone set up for you guys outside by the lookouts,” Dave explains. “Nightfall is coming, they’ll be the most in need when it’s dark. We should call then.”

“Agreed,” Aaron nods.

--

Dave hits the speed dial button for the ranch, they wait for 5 or 6 rings and then they answer. “you killed my mommy and daddy, are you going to kill me too?” A little girl's voice answers, on speakerphone for everyone to hear.

“No one is going to kill you, honey,” Dave assures.

“This is Benjamin Cyrus, who am I talking to?” Comes down the line mere seconds later.

“David Rossi. I’m an FBI agent. We’ve sent the state police away, there’s just us and the local sheriff now. All we want to do is resolve this before anyone else gets hurt,” he explains.

“Then leave us alone.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Benjamin, one of the police bled out on the way to the hospital,” he explains, wondering if they haven’t watched the news yet. “So let's just stop this before things get worse. Please, just put the guns down and come out.”

“we’re believers Dave,” Benjamin starts. “We believe that god says what he means and means what he says. His laws don’t depend on what state you live in.”

“I have no issue with your beliefs,” Dave reminds him.

“You don’t. But the state does,” Benjamin is clearly pissed off that any of this happened today.

That makes two of them.

“I can’t answer for other people,” Dave states.

“God will answer for everyone in the final battle that I’ve foreseen.”

Aaron sighs, leaning his head back and shaking it. He hates these religious types. Rossi makes eye contact with him as he keeps talking, “That’s why I’m here. To make sure that this is not that battle.”

“We shall see…”

Sounds more like a taunt.

“Now the three child services workers—

“one is dead,” Benjamin interjects.

Aaron's heart sinks down to his stomach further, he feels like he could be sick. They all have the same look on their faces.

“It wasn’t us,” Ben assures them. “It happened in the standoff, a stray bullet flying into our chapel clipped her.”

“We need a name, so I can alert the family,” Dave explains. Hoping to pry it out of him.

“Nancy Lund,” he says and everyone lets a wave of relief selfishly pass over themselves.

“Okay, now please, Benjamin, send out your wounded. I promise you they’ll be taken care of,” Dave asks. Trying to start the trickle.

“With enough supplies, we can tend to our own,” Benjamin explains. They’re not leaving any time soon.

“Okay, I need a few hours to put it together,” he explains. “I’ll bring them up myself at first light.”

Without a goodbye or a thank you, Cyrus hangs up.

They head back into the trailer after that, prepping med kits and retrofitting any electronics that get sent in with small microphones so they can spy on their every movement and plan. Aaron’s just excited for the chance to hear her voice again and know she’s okay.

“I’m going to go in and double-check that the kids, Y/L/N and Reid are okay,” Dave announces as he walks back into the trailer.

“Rossi, at least let me go with you?” Derek bags.

“No,” he shakes his head. “This is about building trust. I go alone.”

“I want the parabolic arc mics fixed on every window in that structure,” Dan announces to the rest of his crew.

“They won’t pick up much,” one of them pipes up. “They have blinds on all the windows, unless they’re shouting the glass won’t vibrate enough for us to get audio.”

“Well if they’re not shouting, these bugs will pick 'em up… at least until the batteries die,” Dan assures them, screwing the back onto an electronic thermometer. “How familiar are your agents with our playbook?”

“The BAU wrote the CIRG handbook,” Aaron reminds him. “They’ll know that we’re trying to get ears in there at all times.”

“Good, let’s hope they can get these people talking.”

“They will.”

—

At first light, Aaron sits at the listening station with a mug full of freshly brewed coffee and his headphones on, listening to everything as Rossi drives up to the compound.

He hears their introduction, muffled through the boxes of supplies. He hears Cyrus spout some more godly bullshit and claim he’s trying to protect the children. He’s not ready to let any of them go now, so Dave shakes his hand and heads out on his way. As soon as the door is closed, Cyrus says: “Prepare the wine.”

There’s a shuffling sound as everyone moves around the room, the elders no doubt do everything Cyrus says and the women and children stay seated. After a few minutes, he hears Cyrus again, muffled but there, saying something about being 1 day closer to god…

“Look at Jessica's body language,” Y/N’s voice can be heard as though she’s standing right beside the box of supplies. “The way she looks at him.”

“She literally worships him there’s no way she made that 911 call?” Spencer questions next.

Derek and Aaron look at each other, nodding with a small smile, they’re okay. Not safe, but okay.

“Look at how she comes between Cyrus and her daughter,” Y/N speaks again. “She’s inserting herself between them…”

Cyrus is getting everyone to drink just as Dave is running back into the trailer. “Reid and Y/L/N are okay.”

“what about Cyrus?” Derek asks.

“He's too calm? It's like he was waiting for this to happen?” Dave suggests. “And now that it has he feels vindicated.”

“Hey guys,” Dan calls their attention back to the headsets.

“We’ll be with him soon. We have drank the poison together,” Cyrus’ voice is heard.

They all turn to each other with horrified expressions. “What the fuck?” Aaron exclaims, “I thought you said he was calm?”

“He was! He wanted me to think nothing was going on, he’s a master manipulator! We have to take everything he says and does with a grain of salt,” Dave reminds him.

“We need to go in!” Derek shouts, gathering his things with Dan.

“If we go in there people are gonna die!” Dave shouts.

“People are already dying!” Aaron shouts back, headset pressed to his good ear, he’s still listening to Cyrus preach.

“What do we do?” Y/N whispers.

“Nothing,” Spencer assures her.

“We have to do something these people just took poison!” She snaps back at Reid.

“I don’t think they did?”

“Wait! Wait!” Aaron gathers them all back towards him. “Listen,” he switches the audio playback to the speakers.

“Cyrus just told them they did, I think he’s bluffing,” they hear Spencer’s whisper loud and clear.

“Why do you think that?” Y/N asks.

“Just after he told them they took the poison he waited for them to react and then he nodded to Cole who started to note down everyone who looked sad, look…. They're scanning the audience for the people who are fine with dying now and who are a bit skeptical. This is their way of narrowing down the true believers and those who he can send out to Rossi,” Spencer explains. “He’s smart enough to possibly know our strategies, he wants to send out a trickle of people and then do something during the gush…”

“Jim Jones pulled the same stunt,” Rossi reminds everyone, agreeing with Reid. “They did a test run just like this years before they did the real thing.”

“Dan, prepare your men to go in but not before I give you the go-ahead,” Aaron points back to him. “We need to wait just a few more minutes, if I hear Y/L/N or Reid say anything about people falling sick or passing out, we go in.”

“Got it!”

Aaron covers his hand over his mouth and hopes to god he doesn’t have to send men in there. They already lost one social service member in the crossfire, he can’t lose his agents too.

“Be still, there was no poison,” Cyrus speaks. “Instead a test of faith BECAUSE YOUR ADVERSARY THE DEVIL WALKETH ABOUT AS A ROARING LION!! Choosing who he may devour. Watch each other for signs of weakness. You are your brother's keeper.”

“Dan!” Aaron calls out to him, he comes popping his head back into the trailer. “Stand down, Cyrus said it was a rouse.”

JJ comes walking in behind him, “The former sect leader just arrived.”

“I got it,” Derek volunteers himself. “call me if there are updates.” He says as he leaves, holding his phone up to assure them he has it.

“Charles Mulgrew, convicted in Kentucky at the age of 18. Three counts of statutory rape,” Penelope says through the phone, recounting her findings to the whole team now… well, the free 4.

“So we need to talk to the warden,” Derek says with a sigh.

“Way ahead of you there, honey,” she assures him, making Derek crack a small smile. “Mr. Kentucky Warden said that once inside, Mulgrew found religion and became a model citizen.”

“Well it’s not that hard to behave when you’re in protective custody,” Derek reminds her.

“General populations a rough place for a child molester,” Hotch adds.

“No, no, no, I don’t think guys understand he was a Model Citizen. This guy volunteered at the prison hospital,— the aids ward, he was reading to prisoners dying of HIV… he was emulating saint,” Penelope explains father.

“Good stuff, mama,” Derek compliments her the way he always does.

“Damn straight now you get our friends back, baby,” she says before clicking off the call to do more digging.

“Well,” Dave stands a little straighter and sucks in a deep breath. “This makes things worse.”

“What? That he’s a model citizen?” Derek laughs.

“That he’s been to prison,” Dave looks at him, he’s completely serious. There’s no room for giggles now.

Derek closes his eyes for a moment and his shoulders drop, “right. He knows what happens to child molesters there…”

“If the current sexual allegations are true and he thinks we know it, he’s not coming out of there,” Hotch agrees.

“Then we have to make him think he’s not going back to prison,” Dave assures.

“JJ,” Aaron calls back into the main tent for her. “I need you to release a press statement saying that we have absolutely no evidence of sexual allegations.”

JJ comes marching back over to them, sweaty and exhausted, she rests her hands on her pregnant belly and shakes her head, “You need to see this, pop the laptop open. Click on the news tab and play the audio…”

They follow her instructions, gathering around the laptop they see the same news guy from yesterday, he’s set up a little camp for himself in the hills somewhere. He has a perfect view of the ranch and he’s keeping his voice low.

“Now well into its second day, the standoff at the Separatarian Sect Ranch is now been taken over by the FBI. There is much speculation in regard to hostages, but anonymous sources inside the state attorney general's office have told us there is an undercover FBI agent currently being held inside the ranch. Hostage negotiators say they are making headway with the sect's leadership and are hopeful for a positive outcome. There is still no word as to why an undercover FBI agent was sent in alone…”

“Are you fucking Kidding me?” Hotch stands, anger than ever before. “I’m going to I’m going to wring that fuckers neck. I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

“Hotch,” JJ can’t believe those words left his mouth.

“You two,” he points at Derek and Dave, “you get to the parabolic mics and listen in as best as you can. JJ I want you to circle back with Penelope and tell her she can dig into Wells' life as hard as she can and you can reach out to the press with dirt on him. He wants to win the election so bad he’s willing to get federal agents dead, then we’re going to air all his dirty laundry.”

“Got it,” JJ likes that idea and runs back into the tent to make her calls.

Dave and Derek run to the parabolic mic station, leaving Aaron to head back inside and listen to the other spy mics they sent in.

There’s a silent chatter in the church, the mics are picking up more now that they’re not trapped inside boxes and surrounded by supplies. There are a few different angles they get based on what supply was places where. They’re all synced up, playing at the same time and able to be pinpointed for spy-in on individual conversations.

Suddenly, they hear the sound of a struggle, “Get off me! I can walk without you pulling my fucking hair!” Y/N’s voice shouts back.

“FBI scum like you don't get to give orders,” one of Cyrus’ goons speaks back to her and then he hears a slap.

Y/N groans at the pain and Aaron covers his mouth. He’s never been this anxious in his whole life. He wants to run down there, break in and kick the shit out of anyone who laid a hand on her. And then it gets worse.

More mics pick up the sound of the struggle. They hear what Aaron supposes is her body being dragged as she struggles and then the sound of her smacking the concrete. It sounded hard. Like she hit her head.

“I thought I told you not to put me in this position!” Cyrus shouts. Slamming the door behind himself.

Of course, he wouldn’t do this in front of the members.

He slaps her again, the sound of her struggle makes Aaron want to throw up. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. One second he’s covering his mouth then holding the headphones to his ears and the next he’s just holding them out for no reason. He listens in as she keeps getting hit. Punched, kicked, slapped… he really hopes that this is the extent of Cyrus’ abuse. If he had to hear anything else…. He would actually throw up all over everything.

“We’ve gotta go in,” Aaron says as he takes the headphones off. Derek and Rossi come running into the trailer then.

“We can’t go in,” Dave reminds him. “We’d be risking the lives of everyone in there.”

He knows Dave is right, Dan’s put the sound of her struggle on the speaker for everyone to hear and Aaron can’t escape it. The sound of her being hit again and again, moaning from the pain, she’s struggling to defend herself.

“Get up!” Cyrus says, hauling her up and then punching her in the face again. She slams into something this time, there’s the sound of a window or glass or something shattering and then her crying.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse evil,” he spouts his bullshit at her. Then he growls, tossing her in another direction and she falls to the floor once more.

She cries, breathing in sounds like it hurts as she whines as she does so, “I can take it!”

“Oh, you can take it?” Cyrus just gets more pissed at that. He slaps her again and she cries more.

“I can take it!”

“Listen to what she’s saying…” Dave suggests.

“She’s antagonizing him!” Derek gets defensive, on Hotch’s side and wants to go in.

“She’s not talking to him, she’s telling us not to come in,” Aaron agrees with Dave, bowing his head, he hates that he’s right.

He can’t take this anymore. He gets up and leaves the room, Dave can listen to the rest. He has to step outside, away front he watchful eye of everyone there and around behind the trailer. He rests his back against it and sinks down to the floor, his face in his hands. He cries.

The weight of everything comes crashing down on him in that moment. He lost his wife. He hasn’t seen his son for more than a few hours in the last 6 months, his friend and colleague died in his arms in the middle of the street and he almost died too. The only good thing that’s happened in all of this is that he’s gotten closer to Y/N.

If anything happens to her he’s going to actually go insane. He may have joked about it before, when he was off work and had nothing to do… but now it feels real. He can’t lose her. He can’t go through the trauma of burying another friend. He can’t imagine losing another woman he loves. Cause he does love her. He loves her more than he should love a co-worker.

It all started when he got divorced. He never had eyes for any other woman but his wife, however, after the divorce… he found himself enjoying her company for reasons other than friendship. Sure, getting coffee together in the mornings was nice and he didn’t care for her choice of TV shows but hearing her talk and knowing her opinions on things felt special to him. He knew a side of her that no one else on the team knew.

And sleeping beside her didn’t help his crush either. She was so soft. She cuddled into him like she was always meant to be there. When he woke up that next morning, spooned into her, he could smell her hair and he had his hand on her stomach… under her shirt. As if in the night they got even closer than either one of them ever thought possible.

Derek comes out to find him just a few minutes later. Aaron’s managed to wipe his tears and pull himself together a bit, he accepts Derek's hand and gets pulled back up to his feet. “They took her to another room but there are blinds on the windows so we can’t hear anything.”

Aaron just nods. “I don’t know why she did that, why she put herself in danger like that.”

“He probably held a gun to one of them and got them to confess, he did that to get Kane out of the ranch, too,” Derek theorizes. “Maybe she confessed to get him off Reid? Reid’s only in there because he knows the bible so well, he can get on Cyrus’s good side and help us out. She knew that.”

“Still,” Aaron can’t really argue.

“I know you love her, man, but we’ve got a job to do,” Derek whispers. “I feel the same way about Spencer.”

Aaron’s a little shocked to hear that but then again, not? It makes sense. The teasing, the closeness, the room sharing… that time Spencer missed his flight to hang out with another man he knew as a teenager. There were signs there from both of them, he just never thought to read them until now.

Aaron stares into his eyes, the two men would do anything for their team already, knowing they both loved someone in the ranch, which made them even more eager to do this right. “So let’s get them out of there.”

Back inside the trailer, Rossi has the speakers on still, and Reids talking. “Nancy said she was a child abuse interview expert from Denver. In the four years I’ve worked with her, Nancy’s never lied to me before.”

“As far as you know,” Cyrus spoke, believing him. “Their law says that a 15-year-old girl is a child when just 50 years ago that same law said that a 14-year-old was an adult. Have children changed so much in 50 years?”

“I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve investigated abuse charges against small religious groups… most all of them turn out to be false,” Reid lies to him. Successfully.

“What do you think of that?”

“What does it matter what I think?”

“It matters to me,” Cyrus assures him.

“Why?”

“Because god wants to save you,” Cyrus spouts.

“I swear to god if Cyrus comes out of there alive I’m going to beat him to death with my bare hands,” Derek mumbles under his breath to Hotch.

“Get in line.”

“I mean, that’s why god sent you here, isn’t it?” Cyrus poses, making reid feel like he’s a part of them now.

“I think… on the next call you should test them,” Reid suggests. “Test the negotiator. Make him prove that he isn’t a liar.”

“How would you suggest do that?”

“Ask for the identity of the FBI agent—

“We already know her identity,” his goon responds for him.

“They don’t know that we know,” Cyrus agrees with Reid.

“but the FBI would never tell is that?” The goon responds again.

“They keep asking you to release people, say you’ll release a kid only if they tell you her identity and if they really care about the children they’ll have to tell you her identity,” Spencer tries harder to get Cyrus on his side.

“You’re trying to get us to release a child!” The man fights with Reid.

“It’s one kid,” Spencer talks to him like he’s an idiot. “If they don’t hold up on their end of the deal then you know they can’t be trusted.”

“He’s right,” Cyrus ultimately agrees.

“Reid has ‘em,” Rossi turns back to them, clearly proud of the kid.

“What is it, Christopher?” Cyrus asks his friend.

“Well… some of them have been talking about… leaving?” He poses the suggestion.

“Leaving?” Cyrus repeats.

“yeah…”

“Wake the baby. Let them see the orphan they’ve made.”

“Okay, everyone!!” Hotch calls out of the trailer, getting the other's attention. “We’re about to get a call, we should expect some members to be released shortly. Get ready for phase one.”

Everyone rushes around then. Preparing to make room for the followers, cars are called in to collect people and take them to a hotel for the night and a few ambulances show up in case anyone is in need of medical support.

But no call comes in.

They wait all night until the sun comes up. But nothing.

“They’re probably going to ask when we call them,” Rossi suggests. “I’ll give my morning call at 6.”

“Okay,” Hotch agrees. “Morgan, I want you to take the truck up to the ranch and collect the little girl, if anyone else is released, Dan will come up and help escort them over here.”

“Yes sir.”

—

Rossi calls in right at 6. They haven’t heard anything else over the mics or through the windows. Most of the members must’ve been asleep in the chapel overnight. Sleeping in pews or on the floor… they all must be exhausted and mostly ready to leave now that the condition of their stay has changed.

“Good morning, Ben, how are you today?” Rossi speaks to him cheerfully.

“We are prepared to release a child if you tell me the identity of the FBI agent promise no harm will come to them from this point forward,” Cyrus leads right into it.

A wave of relief washes over Aaron.

“I can’t give you that information,” Rossi eggs him on.

“I will send the child now.”

Aaron waves his hand to Dan who’s got eyes on the ranch, a little girl has started to walk out of the compound and is standing in the gravel driveway. Dan motions to Derek who’s already taking his gun off and handing it to Hotch who hands him a radio in return. He takes off to the truck then, one of the other men drives Derek up and they watch on the cameras as Derek calmly collects the little girl and gets her into the truck safely.

“I’m taking a big risk here Ben,” Dave tries to play it cool with him.

“Trust is earned,” Cyrus reminds him.

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N,” Rossi says her full name. “She came in with two child service workers to talk to the girls.”

“There’s a good chance we can work this out, Dave” Cyrus assures him. “I’m gonna provide another sign of good faith.”

“You’re doing a good thing here,” Dave assures him. Hyping up his confidence, getting on his good side.

Cyrus hangs up after that and they rely back to the microphones. “Assemble everyone in the chapel. Get agent Prentiss back down here,” Cyrus orders Christopher.

“This is it,” Aaron assures Dave and Dan. “We’ve started the trickle, it’s about to flow. We need to be prepared for women in children to be released as well as some of their husbands who’ve lost faith in Cyrus.”

Just as they thought, 10 minutes after the order to gather everyone, Cyrus starts to explain why he has them all gathered there. He points out that some of them have lost their faith, that he no longer can support people who don’t support him and his god. And then he starts to name names.

“He looks pissed?” They hear Y/N whisper.

Of course, the two of them would stand where they could be heard the best by the others.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she assures Spencer.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to her.

“Look at who he’s releasing,” Y/N says again.

“It’s the ones who failed the loyalty test,” Spencer explains. “I’ll get word to the team. You wait for a sign from the outside that will tell us when the raid will come.”

The room goes quiet for a few moments and then they heard, “Take her back.”

Y/N was being sent back to whatever room they had her locked in, in the first place. They need to figure out where that would be… they need to be able to find her during the raid and get her out of there safely.

“Those of you standing, collect your belongings and meet in the main hall immediately,” Cyrus orders.

Not long after that, they start to see a bunch of people start to leave the chapel. Just then, Cyrus calls them. They send Dan and his guys out to collect the survivors and Hotch listens in on the phone call.

“We will surrender tomorrow at noon, we want the press there to make sure that we’re treated fairly,” Cyrus makes them a deal. “We’ll discuss the details tomorrow at our 7 am call… I’ll see you then Dave.”

“I look forward to it,” Dave agrees.

“Oh, and one more thing, could you send in some food in?” He requests.

“Sure, what would you like?” Dave pretends to be hospitable but by the look on his face, Aaron can tell he rather take a bite out of a leather shoe than keep this act up.

“Fried chicken, all the fixings.”

“You got it! I’ll have it brought right up to you.” Dave hangs up and shakes his head. “I hate this mother fucker.”

“I don’t understand, why did you let them go?” Another goon asks, more like, demands to know from Cyrus.

“They weren’t prepared to do what was needed of them,” Spencer butts in.

“Yeah, no offence but you’re not one of us so shut the fuck up,” he spits back at Spencer.

“Listen to him,” Cyrus sides with Reid. “Tell him, Spencer.”

“They failed the test,” Spencer explains. “They-they had a chance to prove their faith when Cyrus told them that they’d sacrificed themselves for god, but instead they showed they weren’t worthy…. That’s why he wants the media to bear witness to your true final act of sacrifice.”

“how do you know that?” The man asks.

“I’m always looking for signs of things to come.”

“Spencer’s asking us for what time to expect the raid,” Dave understands his meaning right away. “He’s telling us this is it! Time is running out! We’ve gotta go in!”

—

The food arrives around mid-day, and they have it delivered to the trailer first. They examine it all to make sure nothing's been tampered with by the restaurant and then they get it all boxed up and ready to go.

“We obviously can’t spike the food 'cause there are kids,” Aaron explains to Dan. “So we need to find another way to alert Spencer that there is a raid coming…”

Just then he picks up a red Sharpie marker and writes on the lid of the chicken box. “New management, open until 3 AM tonight!!” He underlines it a few times and then repeats it on the boxes for the corn and mashed potatoes and biscuits. Spencer has to see it somewhere.

Aaron and Derek are so positive that Spencer can find a way to prepare for the raid inside and figure out a way to get the women and children out of harm's way when Derek, Dave and Dan come crashing through the doors. He’s not going, he has to stay back with JJ and oversee the whole operation. He hates it. But it’s his job.

Derek and Dave go up to the ranch to deliver the food and just as there’s a commotion at the door and everyone is busy at the ranch, the parabolic mikes pick up Y/N’s voice.

“AARON!” Dan yells for him from outside, causing him to rush down to him.

“What?” He fears for the worst.

“it’s Y/N, she’s listening to the blinds with her high-heeled boot and we can hear her, listen,” he hands him the headphones.

“If you can hear me, I know you’re coming. I can try to get the women and children down to the tunnel but I need to know when you’re coming.”

She keeps repeating those two sentences over and over.

“come on,” Aaron gets up, grabs a riffle with a laser scope and they head to the hill closest to the ranch. Dan follows behind him with the transmitter, listening in on what Y/N’s saying still.

He points the gun right at the window and she sees the laser shine against the wall in the room she’s trapped in.

“I got you, what time are you coming in?”

He blinks the laser 3 times.

“3 am?”

He keeps the beam steady and nods the gun, up and down, as if he’s nodding yes.

“Got it. Reid is on the first floor somewhere with Cyrus, and please remember there are children here... someone's coming,” she’s quick to pull her foot away from the window and they lose signal with her.

Dan starts to retreat, leaving Hotch there with the gun and a hopeful feeling. “Hang in there, sweetheart.”

—

At 2:15 AM they start preparing for the raid. Swat is called in, they’ve got a supply of Humvees supplied by the army, weapons, ammunition, and tear gas. They’re ready to go. All without Aaron.

Aaron has his headset on and his radio with him, listening in on the Sect while also in contact with the team as they make their way closer to the ranch.

They know somethings up, that somethings coming… they should’ve cut the lights to the Humvees and gone in there blind.

Cyrus heads outside of the chapel, points his gun in the air and starts shooting the sky, gathering attention from the media just over the hill. He wants them to see how this all goes down.

Luckily, Cyrus just doesn’t know how much they know. When Derek met with the previous leader, Kane, he drew them a map of the whole facility. Secret tunnels, bunkers, you name it, they know where it is. So that’s where they go in.

On the radio he hears Dan give the go-ahead for phase one, the men storm the tunnel exit and surprise the guard down there with flash grenades and tear gas, subduing him. The men force their way inside, they drag the guard to the corner and cuff him up so he can’t cause any trouble and within seconds, Derek is on the radio.

“Y/N’s here, she got the women and children down to the tunnels,” Derek alerts him. “I’m sending them out to you, Dan.”

“Ten-4, I have a vehicle ready to transport them to safety,” Dan responds.

“They’ve wired explosives,” Derek alerts through the radio. “We need to move, now!”

Aaron throws on a bulletproof vest then and starts to run out of the tent, “where are you going!?” JJ calls after him.

“to help get them as far away from the blast as possible this is an all-hands-on-deck situation!” He yells back and keeps running.

He runs as fast as he can, following the dimly lit dirt road up to the chapel, he can see the women and children running out of the tunnels and towards the front of the building. “Over here! This way!” He calls to them, “Over here! You need to get away from the building!”

“Aaron!” Y/N shouts, as the last one to leave the tunnel, she ushers the women and children towards him and hobbles along as fast as she can.

She runs right into his arms, and they both make an audible “oof,” as their chests collide but he holds her close. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” she assures him, pulling back, she turns to face the others, “Keep moving, follow the lights, head to that tent back there!”

They usher them up the road, keeping them at a safe distance from the building, he rests his hand on her back and when she turns to him again, he uses his other hand to cradle her face. He can’t really see in the dark, but he can tell she’s all beaten and bruised, “are you sure—

“I’m fine, we need to go back in there, they have Spencer,” she worries, almost in tears. “It’s bad Aaron, the whole building is rigged to go, they have TNT and gas everywhere, in every hallway way, doorway, support beam… it’s going to go up like a fucking tinderbox.”

“Dereks got it,” he assures her. “They’ll be okay.” She doesn’t look like she believes him, so he pulls her in closer again and cradles her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

They hear a few shots then, followed by the chapel door flying open, Derek and Spencer come running out of the building, and Dave comes running out of the tunnel exit with Dan just as the building goes up in flames.

“Jesse,” Y/N whispers, shocked.

They rush to the building, running up the few concrete steps toward where Derek and Spencer were knocked down by the blast. Aaron picks up Derek, Y/N picks up Spencer and as a team, they retreat away from the fire. At a safe distance, they all stop, turn to the blaze and realize they made it. All of them.

Y/N pulls Spencer into her arms, breaking out in a sob, she crumbles. Her knees give way and Spencer does his best to keep her upright, Aaron steps in and supports her, and Derek too. “We did it,” Spencer whispers, “we’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” she repeats, absolutely exhausted from everything she’s been through.

“We need a medic!” Aaron calls, “Someone, please, get a stretcher over here!”

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she tries to push them away, standing on her own two feet again but she’s wobbly.

“No, you’re not,” Aaron argues with her. “You got beat up, I heard it all. You’re not okay, I don’t care how strong you think you are you’re—

She reaches out and covers his mouth, “Stop yelling at me, my head is killing me.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, wrapping his arm under her to support her, he helps her down the stairs just as the ambulance is pulling up to the church.

—

It doesn’t take long for both Y/N and Reid to get checked out by the paramedics. Spencer has some general ringing in his ear from being so close to a blast, and Y/N has a concussion and severe abdominal bruising. They don’t suspect any internal bleeding, but they advise her to have someone watch her all night and to go to the hospital if she feels sick or light-headed.

Derek offers to drive himself, Reid, Rossi and Y/N back to the hotel, JJ and Hotch just have to finish up a few things and then they’ll join, but she turns down Derek's request. “I’m going to stay with Aaron and JJ,” she whispers, not really wanting to talk unless she has to. “You guys head out, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer gives her his puppy dog eyes.

She nods, giving him a sweet smile, “Yeah, I don’t think I can handle Derek's driving right now.”

“Fair enough,” Rossi pats her shoulder, heading off after Derek.

“Okay,” Spencer understands the real reason why she isn’t going, he looks at her and then at Aaron. He’s not dumb. Far from it, actually. Of course, he knows there’s something going on between them… Aaron just wonders what it is on her side.

“Spence,” she stops him, pulls him in for another hug and holds him there. She whispers something in his ear, something Aaron can’t hear, but by the look on Spencer’s face, it’s sweet. When she pulls back, she speaks louder. “You come get me if you need anything, I mean anything… okay?”

“I will, thank you,” he smiles before turning away and heading off to the SUV.

She comes to sit beside Aaron after that, he’s filing out some paperwork about the supplies they used and Dan’s signing off on everything, too. JJ’s wrapping up from things on the phone with the state, and firefighters are now on the scene putting out the blaze… it’s a commotion, but he doesn’t care about anything other than Y/N.

He reaches out for her hand, under the table, he holds it and looks at her. Asking if she’s okay with just his eyes.

She nods, “I’m tired.”

“I can do the rest of this,” Dan offers.

“Yeah?”

He nods, “Yeah, you guys go get some rest, you’ve done more than enough for us.”

“Okay,” Aaron doesn’t fight it, he simply lets go of her hand and starts to stand up, helping her up too. “Come on, let’s get you out of here… JJ?”

She’s still on the phone but peaks her head over, asking what’s up with her facial expression.

“We’re heading out, come on.”

She holds up her finger, asking for just a second, which is good. It gives him a chance to pack up his things and help Y/N into the passenger seat of their SUV. JJ comes rushing over not 2 minutes later, the phone still pressed to her ear, she gets in the back seat and all they hear is “Thank you so much, half our team should be there in a few minutes, we’re about 30 minutes out… thank you, again, bye.”

“Good to go?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, and I got us all hotels for tonight Rossi is alone, Derek is with Reid and I will partner with Hotch tonight so Y/N can be alone and—

She cuts JJ off. “I don’t want to be alone,” she says in a low tone. It hurts to talk. “Not with my concussion.”

“Oh,” JJ didn’t expect that. “Um, I guess we can be together, Hotch can be alone?”

She shakes her head, “No, mama you go be alone for the night, I’m sure you’re exhausted. You’ve done so much these last two days, Hotch can babysit me, make sure I don’t die in my sleep.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he looks over at her, completely serious. “You’re okay, the paramedics said it’s not too serious, you’re going to be fine.”

“I was kidding,” she gives him a sweet smile.

It doesn’t take long for them to get to the hotel, they check in, they’re handed their room keys and off they go. The double rooms are on the same floor, they’re just across the hall from Derek and Spencer, JJ’s a floor above them and Rossi is on the top floor. He really doesn’t care how much money he spends, he always wants the best rooms.

He carries both their bags upstairs. He had someone go to her other hotel, the one she and Reid were sharing when they arrived, and get her things. He sets them all down on one of the beds and she just stands there, sore and tired. She looks like she wants to cry again. She’s bruising slowly, everything’s getting worse and darker in colour the more time passes.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “Yeah… I just hurt all over.”

“I don’t want this to come off as weird, or anything,” he prefaces. “But do you need or want help changing? Do you want to take a bath? I can help you get in or out— I won’t look, I promise. I just want you to feel better.”

She laughs lightly, but it hurts to do that. “I don’t think I need help… but thank you.”

“You took such great care of me last month, I just want to repay the favour,” he gives her a small smile.

She takes a step towards him and wraps her arms around his middle, resting her head on his chest. He carefully holds her back, his cheek resting against her head. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You need a lot more than a bomb to get rid of me,” she teases. He said the same thing in the hospital in New York.

He smiles, dragging his cheek across her hair until his lips are pressed to her head. He kisses her gently, “Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.”

She sighs as she pulls back, “Would it be weird to share a bed tonight? I really don’t want to be alone.”

“Not weird at all,” he assures her.

“Good,” she smiles.

He brings her over to the one bed that their bags are on, they each zip open their own bag and start digging for their things. She takes out her pyjama shirt and her shorts, her little bag of toiletries and her phone charger and then she remembers she doesn’t have a phone anymore. “I can’t believe that fucker blew up all my stuff.”

“We’ll get you a new phone when we get back tomorrow,” Aaron assures her. “Penelope knows to call me if anyone calls work looking for you.”

“Okay, good… I’m going to change in the bathroom first, I’ll call you if I need help?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

He takes the chance to change in the room, he slips out of his khakis and dress shirt and quickly replaces them with a new pair of boxers and a fresh white shirt. It's what he slept in beside her before… that was the best sleep he’s had in years. Even beside his ex-wife he never slept that good.

He heads over to the empty queen bed that their shit isn’t on and folds back the covers for them. He fluffs the pillows and even sets a complimentary bottle of water on each of their night tables, that’s when he remembers he still has medicine in his bag. She emerges from the bathroom soon after, all changed with a soft smile on her face. “Tada?”

“You look nice,” he compliments her. “I uh, I still have some medicine— the T3s…”

“Ooo,” she thinks about it. “I was just going to tough it out but that sounds like a much better option.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you hurting all night long, you’re supposed to be resting,” he reminds her, handing her the pill bottle once she’s closer to him. “There’s water on your side.”

She takes two of them, sets her water down and starts to get into the bed, Aaron stands at her side, watching as she hisses. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Getting punched and kicked in the gut sucked, I’m surprised I don’t have internal bleeding.”

His heart breaks even more, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she waves it off. “Come get in bed.”

Before he does that, he flicks on the lamp on his side of the bed and heads back over to the door to turn off the main light. When he finally slips into bed, she reaches over for his hand and pulls him over so he can spoon her. She just wants to be held. He gently places his hand on her stomach, he doesn’t want to hurt her at all. She lets out a deep sigh, relaxing into his arms and waiting for the pills to kick in.

“I’m really glad they put you in charge of everything,” she whispers. “The second Rossi showed up in the church I knew we were going to be leaving okay.”

“You should’ve heard Morgan scream for me when the situation popped onto the news in the bullpen,” he recounts, still astounded by it himself. “I was just thinking about you when he called for me and then all the phones started going off and I knew we’d be the ones doing the rescuing.”

“You were thinking about me?” She repeats. “What were you thinking about me for?”

“Oh…” he feels suddenly embarrassed. “Just that it was weird not having breakfast together and I was thinking if you didn't drive to the airport, I would’ve driven you home.”

“Awe,” she swoons, she places her hand over his and interlocks their fingers. “We can get lunch together tomorrow after we land… before you take me back to the airport to get my car.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he whispers. “But we’ll have to take it to go…”

“Why?”

“I don't want anyone to think I did that to you,” he explains, a sick feeling in his throat at the mere thought of someone thinking he could hurt her.

“Oh, oh yeah,” she forgot. “Sorry, I’m starting to feel the medicine… if I fall asleep on you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, go to sleep if you have to,” he assures her. “I’ll be right here all night if you need me.”

“Thank you, Aar,” she mumbles out, already slipping into her slumber. “Love… you.”

His heart skips a beat, he wants to say it back but he doesn’t know how much of that is just the medicine and him taking care of her and how much of it she really, truly means. He doesn’t want to risk it, so he just snuggles in closer, kisses the back of her shoulder and attempts to fall asleep with her.

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[theoceanoasis]

Rodimus going through serious spark break as he recalls the last time he carried. It ended in him losing the sparkling and he dealt with that alone.

Now he’s sparked again.

He spends his days wondering how he’ll tell drift and ratchet. If he even should tell them.

He couldn’t keep the last sparkling so why assume he can carry this one?

FW

He ran to the bathroom being as quiet as possible so he didn't wake Drift and Ratchet. Who were exhausted and needed their rest after working yesterday.

Throwing up what little he had in his tanks from the night before. He rubbed his belly and froze in horror.

He stood up in a daze and found himself wandering his ship until he made it back to his room. He left so abruptly he didn't even tell Ratchet or Drift where he was going.

Digging through his bottom drawer he reached into the back where he kept an emergency case of sparked tests, just in case. With shaking hands he pulled it out. Having never expected himself to be in this position since he'd always been so careful. Terrified after the last time he'd been sparked.

Waiting for the results felt like the longest few minutes of his life. He paced back and forth trying not to freak out.

"It's going to be okay. You'll be fine. You probably ate something bad. There's no way you could be sparked.

He glanced at the test and collapsed in horror. He found himself wailing as he hugged his middle rocking back and forth sobbing. He couldn't do it again. Not after he lost his first one. He shook his head in denial.

"I can't. I can't."

He sobbed, remembering the pain he'd felt after losing his sparkling. It had been shortly after Nyons destruction when he'd been a shell of himself.

The stress and pain of losing his city caused him to miscarry. It was one of the worst experiences of his life and for a long time he never thought he'd recover.

When he first found out he was sparked he'd been scared. It had been an accident and he didn't know how Soundwave would react.

His Conjunx had been supportive and amazing the entire time. Although it was unexpected they were both happy and would love their little one no matter what. Soundwave was always taking care of him even when he was busy fighting in the arena he always checked in with him.

He knew he was busy both with fighting in the arena and helping Megatron with the Decepticons. But if he ever needed him Soundwave was always there. He loved him so much and he couldn't wait to spend his life with him and the little family they were creating.

Both of them were determined to change Cybertron for the better. Even though Soundwave worried. He continued his work as a Nyonian rebel wanting his sparkling to grow up in a city free of Functionalist rule. Both of them were so hopeful of the future and the life they were creating. Their own little sanctuary amongst the chaos of their world.

Then his home was destroyed and everything fell apart. He remembered the shock and horror as he stared at the firey remains of his beautiful city.

Soundwave had immediately rushed to his side and was the only thing stopping him from running into his city and joining his people.

Stricken with grief he'd collapsed into his arms and sobbed. Soundwave took care of him the entire time as he grieved his home wishing he'd died with them.

He took care of him when he couldn't get out of bed making sure he took care of himself. He held him when he cried and supported him any way he needed. He listened when he told stories of his home wanting to keep his people alive. He supported and encouraged his ideas for a memorial and helped him come up with a plan.

He promised him vengeance swearing that he'd kill the person who destroyed his home. He promised to help him any way he could and stayed by his side the entire time.

He was so amazing and he didn't know how he'd survive without him. For a while things were starting to get better they were no where near perfect but at least he had his little one.

He promised to raise him in Nyonian culture. He wanted his little one to have strong ties to Nyon so that his home wasn't forgotten.

Then one day he'd woken up with blood between his legs and this time he fell into a depression that almost killed him. He didn't think he'd ever recover and sometimes he still struggled to get by.

He remembered screaming in agony as he held the bloody sheets in his hands. Sobbing uncontrollably as he begged his sparkling to come back.

He knew Soundwave was grieving during that time as well. But he'd been selfish and made it all about himself. Soundwave had to take care of him when he refused determined to kill himself.

All he could think about was his loss. First his home and now his sparkling. For him it was too much to take and sent him over the edge. All he wanted was to die and join his little one in the all spark.

He knew he was hurting Soundwave when he refused to speak or even acknowledge his existence.

He spent his days laying in bed staring at a wall. It had been the hardest time in his life and then as if he couldn't get any more selfish he up and left one day without a word. After everything Soundwave did for him he couldn't even leave him a message saying goodbye because he was too much of a coward.

He couldn't do it anymore. He was hurting the love of his life. Who was having to take care of him while grieving their little one. He was too selfish for someone as amazing as Soundwave and he could only hope he found someone better after he was gone.

He went back to his home city planning on killing himself, uncaring of Soundwave's feelings. He'd just lost his sparkling and now he was going to lose him.

He never deserved him. Soundwave was too good for him. He was a horrible Conjunx and an even worse carrier.

Instead of dying like he planned he chose to betray him and join the Autobots. He fought against him ignoring his attempts to reach out and talk. He severed all ties with him because he couldn't take the pain. Every time he looked at Soundwave he was reminded of what he lost.

Soundwave should have hated him. He should have resented him for all the pain he caused and yet he never stopped trying to help him. Even after everything he did Soundwave still loved him.

He never wanted to have another sparkling. He never wanted to go through that pain again and now he was going to experience it all over again.

He sobbed clawing at his tanks. He was a failure his body couldn't carry to term and he couldn't take losing another sparkling.

He shut himself in his room refusing to come out. Even when people tried talking to him he ignored them, demanding they leave. Ratchet and Drift tried speaking with him only to be yelled at.

Eventually everyone left him alone. He stepped down from co captain no longer able to lead his crew. Not that it mattered when he'd be dead soon.

It hurt but he knew he deserved it after all the pain he's caused. The only thing he can do is kill. Even his own body kills the life growing inside of him.

He paced the floor touching his growing belly and knowing it wouldn't be long now. As his sparkling grew. The worst he felt knowing he was going to lose his little one and trying desperately not to get attached even though it was so hard.

He broke things off with Ratchet and Drift ignoring their requests to talk with him. He lied saying that he wasn't ready and that he didn't feel anything for them.

He knew it was for the best. They didn't deserve having to deal with the mess that was him. He didn't want them to know about the sparkling and go through the pain of losing their little one. It was better if they never knew about the beautiful life growing inside of him.

Both of them had been angry and hurt when he'd broken things off. Especially Ratchet who yelled at him for leading them on and refusing to talk like an adult. Both of them were hurt and said things that haunted him and made him wonder if they ever truly loved him or if they were just putting up with him. He felt ashamed and broke down sobbing trashing his entire apartment after they left. Neither of them came back after that, their relationship completely destroyed.

He sobbed memories of his loss flashing before his mind. He knew he'd abandon them eventually, when he lost his sparkling and it was better to break things off now and save them the grief he caused Soundwave.

He didn't deserve them. They were too good for him and deserved so much better than a failure like him.

He thought about taking his life many times. It kept him up at night as he lay awake rubbing his growing belly. Everyone would be so much happier once he was gone.

Ratchet and Drift could forget about him and Soundwave could finally move on.

Before he left with the Lost Light. He met up with Soundwave because he deserved to know that he was leaving. The two of them talked about everything. Both of them cried together as they finally grieved their loss and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He told him that he was in love with Drift and Ratchet and that he was going to tell them.

Soundwave was dissapointed but understood. Promising to always love him and that if he ever changed his mind he'd be there for him. If he didn't that was okay as well. Because he'd still be there for him and that he wished him the best in life.

He was amazing and deserved to find someone special who could give him a family something he'd always wanted, but could never have with him and his broken body.

Even though he loved Drift and Ratchet part of him would always love Soundwave and the love they shared. He would forever hold a piece of his spark.

Before he left the two of them decided to spend one last night together and that's what it made it worse. He didn't know if the sparkling was Ratchet and Drifts or Soundwave's.

It didn't matter now. None of them would ever know. Just like Drift and Ratchet he couldn't tell Soundwave. He'd already grieved one sparkling he didn't need to grieve another one. He couldn't put him through that pain again,

The only thing stopping him from ending it all was the life inside of him. He wouldn't kill himself until after his sparkling died. So all he did was lay in bed all alone waiting for the inevitable.

It was better this way. He couldn't hurt anyone else if he died like he was supposed to all those years ago. Once he was gone they would all be free and able to move on with their lives while he got to join the all spark with his sparklings.

[guppygiggles]

Like Real People Do, Part 2! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Casper waits for Avery to make good on his promise to visit, and gets more than they bargained for!

☁️ Warnings: Suggestive language, mild tickling (please do not interact with this if you're a minor!)

This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2 *you are here

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

Everything that hurt, always hurt more the second day.

I sat up in bed, pain wrapping around my middle like a boa constrictor, squeezing agony into my bones. It was four a.m. again, but now it was Monday; a workday.

I grabbed my phone and opened my company's intranet page, hastily navigating to the HR section of the site and putting in for a sick day, followed by an email to my boss and coworkers.

Good morning,

I am not feeling well and will not be in today. All incidents assigned to me are up-to-date with notes. In case of emergency, please text me.

Thank you,

[deadname]

I stared at my reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror. My teal hair looked like the aftermath of a fork stuck into an electrical outlet, and there were pale violet circles under my eyes. While they were genetic, they had become even more visible since my insomnia started. Lifting my shirt, I looked at my stomach, where a bruise like an arm of the Milky Way bloomed in shades of blue and purple, fading to yellowish green at the frayed border. I clattered three Excedrin into my palm and swallowed them dry.

My apartment didn't have a dining area, so I sat on my green-corduroy couch as I peeled an orange. Aside from the hum of the air conditioning unit, it was quiet.

What the hell happened yesterday?

Given the shape and location of the bruise, I felt pretty certain that I had, indeed, crashed my skateboard into the pier's guardrail.

"Oh, shit! My skateboard!" I remembered dismally. It was probably at the bottom of the ocean by now, waterlogged and unsalvageable. Unlike most other skaters I knew, who often had a quiver of five or six boards, I only had one; a drop-through longboard that wasn't too long, which meant it was perfect for my short stance. It was the first board I'd learned to ride, and I'd saved up for months to afford it. My heart sank as I remembered how much research I had done to find the perfect beginner skateboard, and the graphic I had so carefully selected -- a stylized depiction of a person surfing beneath a cloudy, pastel sunrise.

Sunrise. Clouds.

The rest of my memories from the previous day surged back.

"Avery!"

I nearly choked on an orange slice as I glimpsed the microwave's digital clock. It was five a.m. now.

"Sunset time Port Oleander," I googled frantically, the search engine responding with cruel indifference, "seven-thirty p.m."

My fingers counted the hours: fourteen and a half. I collapsed back into the couch as impatience like a cartoon anvil fell on me. How could I possibly wait that long?

Memories of the lighthouse assailed me as I slumped, stunlocked, on the couch; wet brick, old paper, bergamot, sea spray. An embarrassment of books. Sunlight glinting off bits of ice in Avery's swirling, translucent head. His huge, sincere, almost goofy smile. His laugh.

My stomach twisted with a swell of emotion so strong it was almost painful as I recalled the sensation of Avery's warm, boisterous laugh vibrating my ribcage. I wanted - no, I needed - to hear it again and again and again. My fingernails dug into the couch cushion as I fought to gather myself.

"This is just infatuation... right?"

I wasn't exactly a stranger to romance. I'd had partners here and there, but admittedly, the termination of my previous relationship over two years ago had left me unsure that falling in love was, well. For me.

The initial "spark" that seemed a crucial part of attraction for other people, for me, was apparently defunct; attraction did not happen often, and when it did, it was more a slow and methodical building of a home, less a match igniting an all-consuming fire. Love, intimacy and trust were all building bricks, predicated upon a wrought-iron foundation of knowing a person well, forming a bond as friends over time.

Physical intimacy, itself, was a whole 'nother ballgame. As a solitary person, most physical touch -- even mundane -- carried a weight of closeness that was not always comfortable or welcome, but was embarrassingly out of my control. I recalled my recent visit to the doctor, cringing a bit. Though I was loath to admit it, even brushing hands with the grocery store clerk as they handed me my change left a lingering sensation that I had to fight to ignore. I wasn't the type to hug a stranger; I wasn't the type to even hug my friends unless we'd spent significant time together. I certainly didn't think about ti...

My ears suddenly grew hot.

Was I already thinking about... that? With Avery?

Avery's hand holding mine over his kitchen table, his palm cool and soft, the mysterious and silent storm rushing beneath his skin. His gentle gaze that, despite his obvious years, held an innocent curiosity. His playful-yet-shy bravado as he introduced himself with a flourish of his hand, the way he so effortlessly scooped me off the ground. I wondered if his skin felt the same everywhere else... on his body, and on mine.

"Oh, no. We just met, we are NOT doing this," I argued, trying to appeal to my own sense of reason,"you're just gonna have to tough this out, Casper. Don't rush into things and scare him off, this is probably just a crush you're going to get over once you get to know him."

"But I've never even had a crush before, I don't know what to do!"

"Dude, just be regular! Just hang out with him like normal and see what he's like! I don't know, take him to the fair or something!"

"Is that a good way to get to know someone you're attracted to?!"

"I don't know, I'm you!"

I lowered my reeling head into my hands, suddenly regretting eating that orange as my stomach churned. Things were happening so fast. I looked at the clock again -- agonizingly, only an hour had passed.

A horrible thought occured to me, then:

What if Avery didn't feel the same?

"Don't go down that road," my internal monologue chided, "you have no idea how he feels. Don't spiral out of control."

"Why would he even be interested in me? I'm weird! I spend all my time by myself, I'm chubby, I barely have any talent, I don't even have any friends since I moved here! Not to mention how much trauma and baggage I have-"

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about! Stop it! Everyone has baggage, even Avery probably does. You don't have to earn other people's love! You're good enough just for being who you are, and if he would only love you for what you can do for him, he wouldn't be loving you for the right reasons, anyway. Now get up and channel this nervous energy into something productive for god's sake, before you burn a hole in the couch."

I stood.

I cleaned up the coffee table.

I vacuumed my carpet. I washed every thread of clothing I owned, and my bedding. I did the dishes, cleaned every window and mirror and dusted every surface. Raiding the fridge and freezer, I threw out everything that was expired, then I alphabetized my spice cabinet. I mopped, scrubbed, wiped, and folded until my apartment looked like it was straight out of an IKEA catalogue.

Then I left, and ran every errand I had been putting off. I finally emptied my mailbox, bursting with junkmail (I was sure that our postal worker just loved me). I got my car inspected and put air in my tires. I went to the grocery store and restocked my fridge.

All the while, my mind reeled like a YouTube video set to loop:

Avery, Avery, Avery.

+++

By the time I was done, it was six forty-five p.m. I sat on the couch in my favorite pair of jeans and my coolest short-sleeve button-down: a navy blue number with tiny koi fish print. My hair was perfectly quaffed, and I radiated a shower-fresh clean. My apartment was silent, my palms sweating as my hands rested on my thighs. Despite all my arguing and resistance, I was the very definition of down bad.

My incessant thoughts piped up.

"You're trying too hard. You realize that Avery saw you yesterday, unconscious, in a ratty t-shirt and cargo shorts, nasty and sweaty from skateboarding, right? You probably looked like shit, and he probably thinks that's how you normally look. You probably smelled bad, too. He's gonna know."

"He's not gonna know. How would he know?"

A soft knock on my door interrupted my internal warfare and made me jump out of my skin.

I put my hand on the cold doorknob. My heart beat so furiously I could feel the fuzzy edge of my consciousness, and I silently bargained with my hypotension that if it just left me alone for now, just for tonight, I would pass out all it wanted tomorrow. I turned the knob and opened the door.

"Hi!"

It was my neighbor. I experienced an emotion that could only be described as crushing relief.

"I found this outside my door, I think it's yours, isn't it?"

She was holding my skateboard. It was wet, but it didn't look to be soaked through. I gasped, taking it from her.

"Yes! You said it was outside your door?"

"Yeah, I don't know how long it was there, though. Probably since this morning. This is the first time I've gotten out today, so..." she trailed off. We'd spoken in passing, but we didn't really know each other.

"Well, thank you, I lost it yesterday. I think my friend found it and probably just forgot which apartment was mine."

"Hey, no problem. Have a good one," she said, smiling politely as she left.

When she was out of sight, I hastily looked around. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, and as I looked up, I could see hard chips of stars starting to appear. Over my shoulder, I checked the microwave clock again. It was seven o'clock on the dot. How much longer? What would I say when he arrived? What would I even do when he did? My hands grew cold as I realized that, in all of my stress-cleaning, I hadn't planned anything for Avery and I to do together. Maybe I still had time?

"Good evening," a familiar, airy voice spoke from mere inches in front of me.

I jumped again, head snapping forward as my suddenly weak hands dropped my skateboard, which rolled lazily across my small patio.

Avery stood before me in the dying light. He wasn't completely transparent yet, and the fading sunlight behind him illuminated the delicate curves of his head, giving new meaning to the phrase "silver lining." He was grinning like a child who'd just had ice cream for the first time.

My words caught in my throat.

"I'm glad you found your skateboard! I fished it out of the water after I took you home, but I couldn't remember which apartment you lived in -- sorry about that. I hope it isn't ruined."

Across the courtyard, a man opened his door and stepped out, snapping me out of my besotted daze. My fight-or-flight engaged.

"Get in here!" I whispered urgently, grabbing his shirt sleeve, eliciting a surprised yelp as I pulled him into my apartment. He was lighter than I expected, and as the door swung closed, I tumbled backwards onto the floor.

"My goodness, Casper, are you okay?" He offered a hand to help me up. I scarcely had time to brace myself before taking it, and had no choice but to endure the overwhelming thrill of sensation as his cool palm pressed against mine, pulling me to my feet. He was light, but his strength was undeniable; he practically pulled me off my feet by my hand.

"Oh, yeah, fine... ah... I saw someone... out there, across the yard, and I was afraid they would see you," I hastily explained, avoiding his eyes as I tried to calm my palpitations.

"Well, that was kind of you! Believe it or not, though, humans do see me sometimes. Usually you just assume I am something else, like fog, or simply a trick of the light. Come to think of it, though... I suppose, technically, I am both of those things..." He put his fingers to his lips contemplatively. It was only then that I noticed a few things about him that were different from last time -- he was wearing square-framed glasses, and he seemed... shorter? The first time I saw him, he practically towered over me; now, though, he was only about a head taller.

"Did you get shorter?" I asked rudely, wincing before the words had even left my mouth. Mercifully, he didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, yes! It's a scorcher today, isn't it? I evaporate when I get too hot, or if I go too long without water, similar to how you run out of energy when you don't eat."

I realized that I hadn't offered him a seat or anything to drink since I abruptly yanked him into my apartment. I sensed my father rolling in his grave.

"I'm so sorry, can I get you something to drink? I have plain water, but I also have flavored sparkling water, you know, like La Croix? They aren't sweet, but, they're kinda fruit flavored. The kind I have is strawberry. I also have hot tea? I don't have any soda or anything, I don't really drink soda or alcohol, I also have m-"

Avery put his large hand on my shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. I flushed immediately, becoming aware that I had spoken in such a rush that I'd forgotten to breathe. I inhaled greedily, unable to meet Avery's eyes as I gestured to my small couch for him to sit.

"Sparkling water sounds lovely. I've never had that before, but I love strawberries!" he said, taking a seat.

I cracked open a can for each of us, then took a seat on a cushion across the coffee table from Avery. My couch was so small -- really more of a loveseat -- and I was afraid it was too soon to sit so close to him.

As Avery took a sip of the fizzy drink, his eyes lit up, like they did when he laughed. The liquid entered his mouth, and I watched the bubbles swirl like a hurricane just below the surface of his clear skin, before disappearing into the cloudy translucency of his body. Almost imperceptibly, such that I might not have noticed if I wasn't watching, he grew a bit taller.

"Hehe, that kinda tickles," he said, giggling, "it's not much of a flavor, is it? More like an idea of strawberries. Nonetheless, I like it! It reminds me of the flavor of tea."

"Oh, god. Oh, no."

My mind spun like a top flying off a ripcord. I felt my blush rise cartoonishly from my neck all the way to my hairline, like mercury in a glass thermometer being thrown through time, straight from winter into summer. Had I been a cartoon, I was sure that steam would be whistling out of my burning ears.

"The way that word sounds on his lips... oh, god, this is more than I can bear," I thought, watching him read the back of the La Croix can, his head tilted upward as he peered through his bifocals. There was no denying anything anymore; no bargaining, no holds barred. I was helplessly, hopelessly, powerlessly smitten. I had no choice but to admit it, now: all I could do was double-down.

"Hey Avery?"

"Yes?" He smiled again, and I realized with dizzying elation that he always smiled when he looked at me.

"Have you ever been to the fair?"

[crucifiedfaerie]

hi!! just wanted to say thank for your service on behalf of the star wars community🫡 your writing is so good! i saw your requests were open and honestly anymore modern/delinquent!kylo content of any kind would be appreciated lol <3 anyways hope you’re having a good day :)

omgggg hi thank you sm <3 lucky for you i am currently working on a part two for nicotine stains !!! im shooting for it to be out by thursday at the latest but knowing me if i have an idea i cant stop until its done so it will most likely be earlier lmao. if you wanna be added to the taglist you can pm me or send another ask that isn't anonymous and i won't post it!

however as a little treat while you wait here are a few more modern/delinquent!kylo hcs my beloved @enviedear and i have come up with:

delinquent!kylo who is constantly taking cute pictures of you. literally doesn't matter what you're doing he just likes looking at you. he keeps a polaroid of you on his dashboard too. he also keeps pictures/love notes/ticket stubs from your dates in the sunglasses compartment and one time you opened it and they all fell out and he was rlly embarrassed about it.

"you weren't supposed to see that."

delinquent!kylo who when you get into fights he cries in his charger to nothing else matters by metallica, i was all over her by salvia palth, my body is a cage by arcade fire, and vindicated by dashboard confessional. he shows up at your window at 3am to apologize. his apologies are always terrible and he never actually says the word sorry, but he means what he says... he's just bad with getting the right words out.

delinquent!kylo whose favorite place to be is his 1969 charger with you in the passenger seat, driving around aimlessly with his hand on your thigh. he likes to play road trippin' by red hot chili peppers because it reminds him of you. he'll softly sing along to the lyrics while stealing glances at you at stoplights.

"'blue you sit so pretty west of the one

sparkes light with yellow icing,

just a mirror for the sun

these smiling eyes are just a mirror for.'"

delinquent!kylo thats childhood best friends with your brother so you all grew up together. your mother has pictures of an 8 yr old kylo helping 5 yr old you reach the kitchen sink and pictures of 12 year old kylo and finn making christmas cookies together. he's had a crush on you since he could remember and he made you a valentines day card when he was in 5th grade but got too nervous to give it to you. he kept it just in case though. he's a devotional lover even if the person he loves isn't aware of it.

delinquent!kylo who looks for you in every girl he dates before the two of you finally got together. one time your parents were out of town so finn threw a basement party. kylo brought his new girl-of-the-week but as she talks to him, he isn't listening. he's watching you across the room dancing with some random guy, wishing that was him.

delinquent!kylo who, when at a different house party, sees you way too drunk and guys getting too handsy so he gets you the hell out of there as fast as possible. he knows you're too drunk to take home to your parents so he takes you to his house. he lets you sleep in his bed and he sleeps on the couch. he doesn't care that he's showing genuine care for you and that you'll pick up on that in the morning. he only cares that you're safe.

delinquent!kylo <3

[bozoswozo]

Just finished rewatching Death Note, and though it’s completely for my personal pleasure and I would doubt if anyone would read it from start to finish, it’s rant time! *spoilers alert*

First of all, woah. The second watch was truly an experience. Everyone is always talking about ‘I wish I could rewatch … for the first time again.’ and though I’d usually agree, I don’t for Death Note specifically. I don’t really understand why, but in my second watch had a way bigger impact on me than my first. Maybe because I watched it for the first time 4 years ago and I’ve grown now, with different opinions.

ONE THING THAT DIDN’T CHANGE IS MY DISLIKE TOWARDS LIGHT‼️

This being said, the ending where he tried to run away from the police, wounded, made me feel kind of sad for him. He wanted to do good, sure. But after all, anyone who uses bad to solve bad is as bad as the bad they’re trying to solve. Evil cannot be used to fight evil :P

I understand his point of view (somewhat) but I still dislike him. How are you going to watch this man commit genocide, lead his father to his death and feel no remorse, consider killing his sister to save himself (again, no remorse), lead on the angel that is Misa in a cruel way, kill L and Mello (their deaths are enough for me to dislike him but I needed to give more reasons :3) etc etc and still root for him?

Again, no shade to Light lovers. To each their own :P.

Moving on. When I first watched Dn, I was only attached to L. And so, seeing him get killed off and be replaced by Near sparked in me a deep hatred towards that boy. But maturing is realising that Near is the third best character in the show (Right after L and Mello) and that he’s a cutie pie.

And he’s also extremely smart. Correct me if I’m wrong but before L died, he mentionned that if something were to happen to Watari, that he’d erase all the data. That means that Near had none of the informations that L had collected during his investigation.

That also means that he was able to conduct those researches by

1. Not having Light around to examine his attitude or lock him up illegaly

2. No knowledge of what had happened before L’s death

3. He was nowhere near as experienced as L when it came to solving cases (I think…)

He still was able to arrive to the same conclusion as L though, as he mentioned, it wouldn’t have been possible without Mello :)

I also happened to think about Ryuk a lot more and I think he’s the funniest character. My guy dropped his notebook into the human world because he was bored and he landed on a boy who wanted to become God of the new world. And he just went along with it, giggling every now and then. We never truly got a glimpse of his internal monologue, so we don’t know if he agreed with Light or not.

One thing we know, though, is that he sure was amused…

Light is almost as funny. Think about it. If you got a notebook that could kill people, you’d probably get rid of it (I hope so) or AT LEAST ponder on what you would do with it, or if you’d even use it. If you’re a sane human being, your first instinct would be to ‘No way! I could never kill anyone!’.

But Light wasted no time. In only one episode he went from a privileged, smart man to an absolute deranged killer, and that’s hilarious. He didn’t even think about it twice. It’s like he just had a psychotic side to him that just had to wait for the perfect moment to be released.

Also, I knew Matt didn’t have much screen time. But when I rewatched it I noticed that he really DID NOT HAVE ANY! Like they barely add up to thrirty seconds and that sucks cuz he was so cool.

Speaking of cool, MELLO!

He’s so cool like everything about him, his hair his scar HIS STYLE, his aura EVERYTHING. AND I feel like we tend to forget that he is SMART! Like he is smart enough to have been considered a good successor to L and thats crazy to me. It’s sad we didn’t get to fully experience his smartness though.

Same goes for Near. Though it is stated somewhere (I don’t remember where) that he is a little bit smarter than L (but L has a lot more experience, something that cannot be overlooked), I feel like most of the conclusions he’s made appeared from thin air. Did I just not pay attention?

Because at least with L we could see his train of thoughts, his way of thinking and we understood why he came to all those conclusions and decisions.

But with Near it just feels…rushed. (or maybe I js didn’t pay attention…) Like wdym you found that out…It feels like he was more guessing than discovering. Kinda sucks bc he is allegedly smarter than L and I would’ve loved to see it more.

Anyway,

I finished ranting. If you’ve read all this then woah pls get a life (in a nice way <3) .

Death Note amazing anime, amazing openings, amazing aesthetic, amazing characters, AMAZING EVERYTHING‼️

[notmoreflippingelves]

Rewatching "Navidad" and noticing right now that contrary to what I remembered, Esteban wasn't the only one who wanted to celebrate a traditional Nochebuena in the palace with just their family. Francisco did too! This is the very first Navidad since their reunion and Shuriki's defeat. Esteban has been waiting 41 (!) years for this day, and he probably thought it would never come. It must have hurt so much when his wish for a traditional family Navidad was immediately shut down by Elena and Luisa and (albeit a bit more conflictedly by Isabel) or that Francisco's agreement with his idea was disregarded.

It's especially intriguing to me, because ordinarily, you would expect Esteban to be all in on the exciting new Navidad celebrations. He can be stuffy and traditional, sure, but he's also extravagant and loves grand, elaborate parties. In this case, however, he vastly prefers a quieter, more intimate Navidad than something new and elaborate and exciting. He doesn't want fireworks or or parades or massive parties; all he wants is simple quality time with the family he spent four decades longing to somehow see again.

To borrow a few lyrics from "Let Love Light the Way," Esteban needs "nothing more than those [he] adore[s]" over the holiday. And it must rankle him so much to receive the seeming confirmation that this isn't enough for the others-- and I feel it could lend itself to the inevitable conclusion that he himself isn't "enough" for the others.

Personally, I feel like Francisco's desire to have their quiet, private Nochebuena celebration comes from a slightly different place than Esteban's. He's naturally a more traditional, reserved person, so he would always prefer simple quality time with his family than a grand function. Additionally, he did not perceive any time passing during the past 41 years, as Esteban did. So this particular Navidad would have less strong of a meaning to him as it did to his grandson who was all alone for four decades. I also do not think he would be fully aware of what this end of the Dark Times means to his grandson. But unlike the others, Francisco does seem to be genuinely trying to understand what Esteban is thinking and feeling.

And even knowing that Francisco can and will never fully understand, Esteban must have felt a little tiny spark of recognition and validation when Francisco too wanted to resume their regular Navidad traditions. These--and by extension, Esteban himself--may not have been "good enough" for Luisa or Elena. But for Francisco, the traditions were more than merely "good enough," they were his first choice.

[youcouldmakealife]

David/Jake; looking askance

For the prompt:  Protective David which it basically doesn’t even follow, because David wanted to add like ~backstory, and ~lead up and I am as helpless to David as Jake Lourdes is, though a lot more exasperated about it.

David doesn’t like Tampa Bay.

It isn’t anything personal, really, has nothing to do with the city or with the team, no matter how frustrating they can be to play, especially when Sebastien Boucher decides that night is going to be one of those nights. They happen less than they used to, but they’re still irritatingly common.

It has nothing to do with Tampa, it has to do with how David feels when he’s there. And David’s feeling the mix of feelings he always faces in Tampa: frustrated, on edge, and irritated at everything and everyone. The Panthers are the second game on their trip to Florida, so he’s in a better mood than he would be otherwise, but he’s also jittery, impatient, all the time he’s spent away from Jake coalescing into one last day that feels intolerable after all the rest.

It makes no sense, but it happens every time. Well, every time he isn’t in Tampa on the back end of the road trip, missing Jake more than he rightfully should after a single day.

So he’s already tense before he catches the night’s highlights over a post-game dinner with Raf at the hotel bar, their eyes flicking up occasionally, lingering for especially exceptional plays. And for people they know, David supposes, because he typically would have looked right back down the second he saw two players circling one another — he does not consider that to be a highlight of any game, particularly because it is, by all accounts, against the rulebook, and shouldn’t be encouraged the way it is — but he saw the Panthers jersey, and then a split second later, recognised the way Jake holds himself. He apparently recognises it even when he’s fighting. David wasn’t aware of that until now.

Raf sucks a breath through his teeth when Jake goes down. Not down — not out cold, not his head hitting the ice, all those worst case scenarios that make David go cold every time a fight involves someone he cares about. Thankfully most of them aren’t fighters, with one notable exception.

Jake gets up again quickly, nothing too hurt but, David imagines, his pride, because if he’s remembering correctly, Jarvis probably isn’t even legal to drink yet. When he pulls out his silenced phone he already has texts from Jake waiting, im fine! followed by lost that one lol. 

David does not consider there to be anything worth laughing about.

He also has one from Robbie, who’s sitting with Elliott down the bar, hahaha he’s such a dumbass and David scowls down at it, but he doesn’t send a text arguing the point.

*

David looks it up when he’s back in his hotel room to see what had sparked it. It wasn’t something he would consider an explanation — none of it is an excuse — not retaliation for an earlier hit, or an escalation of previous hostilities. As far as David can tell, it was just Jake trying to get his team invested in the game, down 4-1. 

David’s always found that to be specious reasoning. He’s certainly never grown more invested in a game solely because one of his teammates took a few punches. If anything, he just gets distracted, worrying they’ll be juggling lines for the rest of the game if his teammate gets injured. And even if it did work — wouldn’t that work just as well on the other team? A net zero impact at best is not something worth punching someone over.

He doesn’t say that when he calls Jake, of course, just asks how he’s feeling — fine — and whether he’s icing his face — yes, but David has suspicions that isn’t true, or if it is, it was a cursory icing at best.

“What time are you guys getting in?” Jake asks. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Are you even safe to drive?” David asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jake asks.

“Your eye,” David says. It was already purpling in his postgame interview, and David imagines it’s significantly worse now.

“It hasn’t swollen shut or anything,” Jake says.

“That’s not an answer,” David points out.

“I’m safe to drive,” Jake says. “I’ll pick you up at the airport?”

“If I can clear it with the coaching staff,” David says, but they both know that means yes.

*

David deplanes ten minutes late onto hot tarmac and a text from Jake letting him know where his car is. He has cleared it with the coaching staff, as expected, so he splits from the team at the terminal, enduring a parting elbow and wink from Robbie.

Jake pops the trunk so David can put his carry-on in, thankfully not getting out and insisting on doing it himself, the way he usually does. David doesn’t know if that’s because he doesn’t feel up to it, or if David’s finally convinced him that, Florida or not, it’s an entirely unnecessary risk.

When he opens the passenger door he decides it’s probably the former. His eye’s a purple so deep it must look black in worse lights. Even on a sunny day, all David can see is shadow.

“Not as bad as it looks,” Jake says. Either David’s face gives something away, or that’s the way he’s had to greet everyone today.

David imagines he’s heard disapproval from his coaches. He’s also sure that among the back and ass slaps, he’s been chirped by his teammates for losing to a kid, even if that kid was bigger than him. He suspects Allie and Natalie have also chimed in with their opinions on the fight, and he doubts they were complimentary.

“That was a stupid fight,” David says anyway.

“I know,” Jake groans, exactly like someone who has heard that repeatedly since yesterday.

David reaches toward the bruise, livid, cresting his cheekbone, but Jake sucks in a breath before David’s fingers even make contact, and David pulls his hand away, puts it in his lap.

“Sorry,” Jake says.

“You look awful,” David says, and Jake laughs, then winces.

“I know,” Jake says.

“I don’t know why you keep getting into fights,” David says.

“Eh, it’s usually the other guy looking like this, not me,” Jake says.

David frowns. “That’s not better, Jake.”

“You’re right,” Jake says.

“It is better,” David says, “I didn’t mean it isn’t better for—“

“No, you’re right,” Jake says, “it’s not.”

David looks down at his hands, catches sight of Jake’s. They look sore, winter chapped but worse, his knuckles red and raw. He starts to reach out, then pulls his hands into his lap again. Flinches like it’s his own injury when Jake reaches out and threads their fingers.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” he asks, but Jake just squeezes his hand in answer, so if it does, David supposes Jake doesn’t mind.

[mycarhasasecret]

I had a thought last night, and I just HAD to see/read it-

Okay so, S/o is usually overly hyper and often talks up and expresses their opinion and thoughts honestly, and always asks questions when their confused (which is 60% of the time). Just them being innocent and friendly. But then they get yelled at by the bots/cons? They then become more invested in their phone, they would drown out everyone by listening to music and ignore the bots/cons. They only respond with hums/respond with short yes's or nos's, nodding and/shaking their heads during convos?

Bots: TFP and Bayverse Ratchet and Wheeljack/Que?

Cons: Bayverse The Last Knight Megatron?

I apologize if this is long... I might also ask for another variation but with different bots and cons-

Can do

Bayverse

Ratchet

-Ratchet, pragmatist he is, is not a particularly wordy fellow. He never really felt one way or the other about you filling the silence. It was simply a part of your personality. Neither seeing it as negative nor positive, he is of the opinion that the yelling was uncalled for.

-He notices your unusual reticence right away. He asks direct questions, not beating around the bush. Such is Ratchet’s nature. But he is sure to be kind about it. Also characteristic of Ratchet.

-He encourages you to open up again. One moment of social rejection and embarrassment is not worth the wallowing in self-pity you are doing now. Pick yourself up and make friends with someone more your speed. Bumblebee for instance.

Que

-He is the first to step in with a “hey now!” When he hears the shouting and berating. There’s just really no need for this kind of behavior. He’s disappointed in his comrades in arms. He excepted more acceptance among these ranks.

-he can see right away the light has drained from your eyes. His distress grows as he observes your behavior for the next day or so. You are obviously emotionally unwell.

-playful teases and careful encouragement coaxes your feelings out of you. He reminds you that it is okay to be chatty and loud and ask questions. Questions spur discussion, discovery, and invention!

Megatron

-Megatron does not suffer fools. They are silenced the first time. They are obliterated the second. He does not have the time nor the patience to be tolerant of pests who cannot remember their place in the pecking order.

-He is less than thrilled at this change in attitude. He liked when you were proud and unapologetic. He liked when you were outspoken and he always knew what you were thinking.

-Megatron is well known for his demand-making tendencies, and he demands to know why this change has come about. He cares not for having fewer combatants among his ranks. Consider them already disposed of.

TFP

Ratchet

-He admits he’s not the most patient of bots, but even he thinks the ridicule in this case was a bit much. Sometimes, you could stand to wait a few seconds for things to be full explained before asking questions, but overall you weren’t obnoxious. Really, there was no reason for it.

-Your new solitude was spark breaking. You were his little buddy, asking him all these questions and being excited. He was always ready to teach you, and was more than a little disappointed when you no longer wanted to learn.

-“You’re alright,” he tells you. “Walk it off.” He is excellent at dusting people off and setting them back on their feet. Really, a miracle worker in disguise with his motivational words. Anyone can buff out a scratch. It takes a real medic to deal with the emotional boo boos.

Wheeljack

-As someone who has been on the receiving end of ridicule bordering on mean-spiritedness from Team Prime, he knew they were bound to snap eventually. He steps in and reminds everyone that that’s not cool, and defends you like the gentleman cowboy he is.

-Things are quiet. Too quiet. The silence will not do. And if you don’t start making noise, he will. And we all no what happens when Wheeljack decides to make noise. This eerie quiet does not sit well with him.

-His approach to emotional healing is relatable stories from his time as a wrecker. He has embarrassing moments, moments of scorn, and every bad situation in between. No big deal. You’ll pull through.

[green-fifteen]

Day 6: firewood

Prompt: Fire Fandom: Marvel Comics, Spiderman, Fantastic Four Pairing: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm Summary: Peter and Johnny get out of the city to celebrate their anniversary. Word count: 787

read on ao3 instead

written for @fluffyfebruary

Peter had never thought of Johnny as an outdoorsy kind of person and he wasn't shy about saying so. As they packed their bags for the trip upstate, Peter watched his husband roll up a sleeping bag and raised one very eloquent eyebrow.

"You're not serious?" he said.

"What? I thought we could spend at least one night outside. Under the stars. It'll be romantic."

"You replaced our last mattress for being 'lumpy' and you think you can sleep on the ground?" Peter looked at him skeptically as he folded their underwear and tucked them all neatly in a duffel bag.

"Just wait until you're in my arms in the moonlight, Pete. You'll be thanking me."

"Sure," Peter said sarcastically, and then threw a red and blue pair of briefs at his head. They were patterned with little Spiderman faces. "And I told you about this, Johnny."

He caught them easily and threw back a wide, toothy grin. "What, no Spidey-shorts on our big night?" he quipped. Peter wasn't fooled-- he already knew Johnny considered it a challenge to sneak the Spider-pants into their bedroom activities. It always made him laugh, which made Peter laugh, but Peter wasn't going to stand for it on their anniversary trip.

"Not happening, flame-brain. Put them away before I throw them out a window."

Johnny made a wounded expression and the underwear disappeared inside a drawer.

They arrived at the cabin before lunchtime. It wasn't too far away from the city (just in case) but they both wanted some time out of town. Ben had clapped Peter on the shoulder (he swore he felt the tiles in their kitchen crack beneath his shoes) and reassured him, "We'll watch the city for you. Go and have fun." Johnny had teared up a little.

The place was stocked already with everything they'd need for the week. When they came through the door, they quickly unpacked their bags into the drawers and closet, then spread out to explore the rental.

"Peter!" Johnny called from the bathroom. "Jacuzzi jets!"

"That's nothing," Peter told him, coming in from the main room. "There's a fireplace." Johnny looked offended.

"You're married to the Human Torch, web-head. In sickness and in health and everything."

Peter smirked. "But a fireplace is romantic." He stretched the word out over his tongue. Johnny's expression turned thoughtful, then wicked.

"I promise you, baby. You won't need it. It's gonna get hot enough in here without it." Peter narrowed his eyes, evaluating.

"I think I'd like you to prove it."

Johnny's teeth gleamed as he lunged for his waist.

That night, to Peter's bewildered consternation, they found themselves stuffed into one sleeping bag on the ground outside the cabin. It was big enough for two, but just barely.

Peter had tried to make a fire nearby to toast marshmallows and warm his hands, like he remembered from camping with his aunt and uncle. Johnny had shamelessly sabotaged his efforts, sucking the energy from any spark he managed to create over the kindling. He gave up after a while and crawled back into the bag, clearly Johnny's plan all along.

Now they were staring up at the dark sky, Johnny's leg thrown over Peter's and his arm under Peter's head. Peter had Johnny's hand held between his own, stealing warmth that didn't seem to have an end. He pressed it to his mouth to warm his face, and placed the lightest kiss on his palm.

"I told you this would be romantic," Johnny whispered. "I'm the best at this husband thing."

Peter snorted. "Who's the competition?"

He looked serious as he answered, "Reed."

"What about me?" Peter asked, smile evident in his voice.

"You're my husband, it doesn't count."

"Come on. Where am I in the ranking?"

Johnny turned his face, his tip of his nose just barely touching the tip of Peter's. "This is a team sport," he said. "You're with me, at the top."

"We're both the best at being husbands?"

"Exactly."

Peter stretched out his neck to kiss him, long and sweet.

As the night grew colder and the wind picked up around them, neither one budged from their little spot on the ground, both as warm and comfortable as they ever were in their bed at home. Peter dreamt of crackling logs and playful yellow flames.

In the morning, he would unwrap the sleeping bag and pull up Johnny's shirt to kiss him awake there. His mouth would follow a trail down to the waistband of his sweatpants and he'd tug at them insistently until his mind caught up with his heart and he realized Johnny managed to sneak the Spiderman underwear into his bag after all.

He'd forgive him eventually.

[simpjaes]

Hello 🥹 odd question but I’d really like to know your stance on this!

I worked for one Korean entertainment company where I interacted with some kpop artists including the boy group I was a big fan of back then multiple times (had professional and casual conversations with them, etc).

That being said, I did say ‘was’ meaning I don’t stan them anymore ;; And that’s not on them being bad or anything but after talking to them and just seeing them joking around with each member and like, just scrolling their phone during break time - just being normal (which is completely valid because idols are human!!) I just didn’t feel (?) the spark of wanting to stan them anymore or maybe I just felt weird that I was a fan of my co-workers (?) 🥹🥹🥹

I know I’m rambling but idk :’) If in the future, I was given a chance to work with enhypen, I don’t know if I would take it in case the emotions/feelings I get as a fan of enhypen would change or idk just dissipate like they did my previous group ;; I think if I were to only get to work with them once - it’d be okay because I don’t think they’ll remember after only meeting once 🥹 it’s another story if it were to happen a lot of times 😭

If you were put in that situation, would you take the chance to work with the boys? I’m genuinely curious! 🥺

Anyway! I really can’t wait for your sunghoon fic 🥹🩸Rest well and hope you feel better soon 🥺🤍

Ah, that's interesting.

I think it's pretty normal to work around celebrities and idols and realize that most of what fans see is a façade. After all, they are just people who do normal people things. I really don't think it's strange for the rose-colored glasses to come off upon seeing them in their own safe spaces.

I mean, i've met bands before (not k-pop mind you) and it made me completely stop listening to their music or looking at the members in any sort of way for various reasons. It's always a sad feeling to see who a person really is, but this is regarding weird behavior not normal behavior.

Scrolling phones and just being normal isn't necessarily something that would shatter my fantasies ngl. then again, i think it's good that you're not a super-stan working with these dudes. this is how we end up with malicious actions and the selling and stealing of personal items/information.

i'd actually advise against companies hiring stans of groups simply because there are a lot of things that can come of that. but if you're like me and able to be a casual stan upon being around said group (as in, not acting like a fucking weirdo towards them) then it would be fine ig?? if I ever got the chance to work with a band like enhypen, or any of my other fave groups, i think my feelings would change. i'd probably listen to them differently and view them differently due to a work relationship with them but I wouldn't necessarily stop enjoying them as a band. i'd probably stop writing fics tho because there's a huge difference between writing a character based on someone you've never met and writing about someone you'd come to know on a more personal level yknow? It would be too real at that point.

ofc, i would take any chance to meet the bands i love. i wouldn't go into it as a huge fan though. It would be a work thing, and the stanning would be secondary to how I speak with them.

im rambling a little bit but the point is, yes i believe my level of stannery would change after working with a band i love. but i don't think it would make me unstan. It would likely just have to happen for professional purposes.

After all, no one wants to work with someone that appears to be fucking obsessed with you, yknow? most people would be like "YES!!! THIS IS MY CHANCE TO FUCK [INSERT MEMBER HERE]" but my thought process would be more career driven i think??? like "omg this is gonna get my work out there!!!!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!!!! RECOGNITION!!! THANKS HOT GUYS WHO I HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT IN DETAIL!!!"

no fr, id delete every fic of enhypen i've ever written. the embarrassment would be next level.

BUT YEAH

:D

[cyborg-franky]

Trade - OC week

Me: I will do something for myself Also me: Okay I'll do a trade with @rosiinante

OC x Corazon SFW Modern AU - Soulmate AU Prompt: Soulmate AU - “I can’t believe it…” 

@ocxcanonweek <3

It’s In The Leaves

Soulmate tea had been around longer than anyone could remember. The tea was everywhere, with bright pink leaves on a maroon stem. Far from rare, you could buy it in any good tea store, no, what made this tea so special was the people who knew how to really brew it. Tea shops that’d learned the skill weren’t any less usual than other chains. 

Every street seemed to have one, all with their own way of preparing the leaves. The leaves that went from bright pink to baby pink as they sat in the hot water, the leaves opening like flowers in the morning, slowly, sleepy, and beautiful.

It was said that everyone in the world had a soulmate, everyone, and the only way to tell who yours was lay in the leaves at the end of a well-enjoyed cup of tea. At the bottom, the now deep dark pink leaves would curl, break, twitch, and arrange themselves if by magic into shapes, and patterns.

And your soulmate would always have a matching pattern. 

First dates to fancy shops that prepared the best soulmate tea were common. Some people liked to cut to the chase when it came to dating, both have a warm conversation over the delightful tea, and as they sat there and waited for the leaves at the last sip of tea to change and form the couple would daydream of their future together.

The date would either end in disappointment or the start of something beautiful, a connection as bright as the blooms of the soulmate tree.

You didn't have to go to the fanciest tea shop in town to enjoy a cup, nor go on a date. Some people just loved the taste and would simply leave before the leaves could tell them their future, not interested or they already knew their fate. Some people were hopeless romantics and would go to the tea shops and sit with a cup, staring wistfully at the drink.

Sunny was one of those people.

Pink bouncy curls, a sun dress of green and covered in sunflowers. They sat down and looked at the pretty porcelain cup, watching the water change to a shade of pink that matched their hair. Heart shape glasses perched on their nose as they looked at the tea, setting down their sketchbook and pencil case.

Another day of dreamily thinking about their soulmate, they knew the shape of their leaves, half a heart. It was oddly fitting they thought as they pulled out a pencil, with a little heart on the top. Not that they’d made the shape their entire personality they mused with a should as they looked around the tea shop.

Some regulars dotted around the place, sitting at booths and tables. They had to perch at the bar, the glass table showed fake petals and leaves of the beloved soulmate tea. They liked how the pale pink shop with warm lighting looked. It was nice here, never too busy, could always get a seat.

They watched as a tall man with messy blond hair sat down at the counter, he wore a pink shirt covered in hearts, he pulled out his wallet and there was a heart keychain. Seemed they weren't the only ones who were intense about heart things. They smiled a little and looked back at their sketch pad.

“Can I get a soulmate tea?” He asked, and Sunny could feel that baritone voice rumble in their chest, lighting a spark, suddenly they didn’t want their headphones. Hoping the handsome stranger would keep talking.

The cup was set down in front of him and he went to take a sip before he remembered his son's warning of blowing on it first. He blew on the steamy pink water and sipped it, he felt eyes on him and turned, seeing the pretty person looking at him. “I can’t help it, I must have one or two of these a week, even though it feels hopeless sometimes.” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, he tried to tell himself it wasn’t such a big deal.

But it was. He wanted to meet the person he was destined to be with.

Sunny was normally too shy to engage with strangers, especially handsome ones with bright smiles and deep brown eyes. But ever the friendly person they returned his smile and nodded. “I understand, this has to be my third this week and we are only on Thursday!” They chuckled and heard him laugh along with them.

“I’m Sunny,” they introduced themselves, brushing back a bouncy curl before offering their hand, which he took. His hand was much bigger than theirs, it took Sunny’s breath away for a moment, smile on their lips faltered for a second, just focusing on how nice this felt. “I’m Rosinante, but you can call me Rosi,”

–

It was late afternoon by the time the barista informed the two they only had twenty minutes left, they’d been so caught up in conversation for hours. Rosi and Sunny had shared their lives with one another to the point they couldn’t be considered strangers. 

Sunny felt a warmth in their chest they’d never felt before. He was handsome, funny, and kind. He’d bought them a piece of cheesecake which they ate with a smile. He was lovely, and feelings washed over them whenever they’d managed to make him smile or laugh. 

“Well, I should make use of the bathroom before I head out, this has been great though, thank you.” Rosi’s smile was soft and sincere as he excused himself.

Sunny nodded and packed up their things, putting them all in their pink bag, covered in hearts, of course. They looked at the cup Rosi had left and they knew it might have been rude, something as secretive as catching a glimpse at someone else's leaves but the need overcome them. They tip-toed, peering into the cup and seeing the other half of a heart.

They gasped and felt tears welling up as they mumbled to themselves. Rosi walked around the corner, seeing the tears brimming, a look of worry on his face as he walked over to them, a gentle hand on their shoulder. “Sunny?”

“The leaves..” Sunny pushed their cup towards Rosi, who looked in and saw the other half of the heart. He laughed loudly in disbelief. “I can’t believe it…” 

[nutraexperts]

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Let’s talk about Hersolution Gel.

If you’re looking for something to enhance your intimate life, this product might be what you need.

I remember chatting with a friend of mine, Sarah, who was feeling a bit disconnected from her partner. She mentioned that intimacy had become routine and less exciting over time.

That’s when I told her about Hersolution Gel.

She decided to give it a shot, and the results were impressive.

Hersolution Gel How To Apply

Using Hersolution Gel is straightforward.

Here’s how Sarah did it:

Start by ensuring the area is clean and dry.

Apply a small amount of gel directly to the clitoris.

Wait for a few minutes for it to absorb.

You can then enjoy enhanced sensations during intimacy.

Simple as that!

The key here is patience. Letting the gel do its magic will make the experience even better.

Hersolution Gel Ingredients

Now let’s get into what makes this gel work so well.

The ingredients are carefully selected to provide maximum pleasure without irritating sensitive skin.

Some standout components include:

L-Arginine: This amino acid boosts blood flow, which can heighten sensitivity.

Aloe Vera: Known for its soothing properties, it keeps everything comfortable down there.

Menthol: A little cooling sensation that adds excitement and enhances pleasure.

These ingredients work together seamlessly to create an enjoyable experience.

Sarah loved how natural it felt on her skin—no weird aftertaste or sticky residue.

Hersolution Gel Side Effects

You might be wondering if there are any side effects with Hersolution Gel.

In Sarah's case, she experienced no negative reactions at all.

However, everyone’s body is different. It’s always wise to do a patch test first if you're worried about sensitivities or allergies.

Here's what you should keep in mind:

If you feel any irritation or discomfort after applying the gel, wash it off immediately.

Consult a healthcare professional if you're unsure or have specific concerns regarding personal products like these.

Most users report positive experiences without issues, but it's best to listen to your body.

Hersolution Gel Uses

So why should you consider using Hersolution Gel?

Well, beyond just enhancing intimacy with your partner, here are some other uses:

Boosting Confidence: Feeling more in tune with your body can elevate your self-esteem.

Exploring New Sensations: Whether solo or with someone else, this gel can spice things up!

Improving Connection: Many users find that it helps deepen their bond during intimate moments.

Sarah said she felt more connected than ever after trying out the gel. It was like rediscovering each other all over again!

In short, if you're looking for something to elevate your intimate experiences and bring back that spark, give Hersolution Gel a try!

With its simple application process and natural ingredients designed for pleasure without compromise, it's worth considering in your journey towards improved intimacy.

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL TO ELEVATE INTIMACY

Reviews Of Hersolution Gel

When it comes to enhancing intimacy, I've heard countless stories from friends and family about their struggles.

Many are looking for something that actually works.

They want a solution that doesn’t just promise results but delivers them.

That’s where Hersolution Gel steps in.

Let’s break down what people are saying and why this gel could be the game changer you didn’t know you needed.

Hersolution Gel Review Must Read: What Users Are Saying

Real feedback is invaluable, right?

I dug into some reviews to get a sense of how Hersolution Gel is performing in the real world.

Here’s what I found:

Sarah, 29: “I’ve tried various products over the years, but nothing worked like this. It felt like a breath of fresh air! I noticed a difference within days.”

Tom, 35: “My wife was skeptical at first. After using it together, she couldn’t believe the change. Our intimacy has improved dramatically.”

Lily, 42: “I was looking for something natural and effective. This gel ticks all the boxes! The sensations were heightened, making our experiences even more enjoyable.”

These testimonials highlight not just satisfaction but genuine excitement about how this product has enhanced their lives.

Why Choose Hersolution Gel?

So why should you consider Hersolution Gel?

It's simple: effectiveness backed by real user experiences.

Here’s what stands out:

Natural Ingredients: No nasty chemicals here. Just good stuff that works with your body.

Quick Results: Users report feeling effects almost immediately after application.

Easy Application: No complicated routines or rituals—just apply and enjoy.

This isn’t just another product on the shelf; it’s a solution designed to elevate your intimate moments.

The Buzz Around Hersolution Gel

What else are people saying?

The buzz around Hersolution Gel is palpable.

It seems everyone wants to share their success stories:

Many users rave about increased sensitivity.

Others mention stronger connections with their partners.

Some even say they feel more confident in their bodies!

This isn’t just marketing fluff; these are real results from everyday people who decided to give it a shot.

A Must-Try For Those Seeking Enhancement

If you're on the fence about trying Hersolution Gel, let me put it this way: many users have found it life-changing.

You might be wondering if it's right for you.

Ask yourself these questions:

Do you want to reignite passion?

Are you searching for something safe and effective?

Would you like an easy-to-use product?

If yes is your answer, then this gel could be exactly what you're looking for.

Final Thoughts On Hersolution Gel

In my opinion, every review of hersolution gel paints a picture of hope and satisfaction.

People aren’t just using it; they’re falling in love with its effects!

With so many positive reviews flooding in, it's hard not to take notice.

Why wait any longer? If you've been searching for something that truly works, give this gel a try today!

Your intimate life deserves the best—and so do you!

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL FOR UNFORGETTABLE SENSATIONS

Where Can I Buy Hersolution Gel

So, you’re wondering where to grab Hersolution Gel?

You’re not alone.

Many folks are on the hunt for this product because they’ve heard about its benefits.

Let’s break it down.

Hersolution Gel Where To Buy

The best place to get your hands on Hersolution Gel is directly from the official website.

Buying from the source ensures you're getting a genuine product.

No fakes, no knock-offs.

Plus, when you order online, you often score some sweet deals and discounts that you wouldn’t find elsewhere.

I mean, who doesn’t love a good bargain?

Hersolution Gel Price

Now let’s talk numbers.

The Hersolution Gel price varies based on promotions and packages available at the time of purchase.

Typically, it hovers around £39.99 for a single tube.

That’s not bad considering what it can do!

But here's the kicker – if you buy in bulk or subscribe for regular deliveries, you can save even more.

Think about it: investing in something that could enhance your experience is worth every penny.

Hersolution Gel Price In India

For my friends tuning in from India, here’s what you need to know about the Hersolution Gel price in India.

It usually sells for around ₹3,000 per tube when purchased through trusted online platforms.

Keep an eye out for shipping costs and any potential import duties if you're ordering internationally.

But trust me; it's still a worthy investment given its benefits!

Why You Should Buy Now

Why wait when you can start experiencing the perks of Hersolution Gel today?

Imagine feeling more confident and satisfied with your intimate moments.

That’s what this gel promises!

I've spoken to users who transformed their experiences after just a few applications.

Take Sarah, 28:

“I was skeptical at first but decided to give it a go after hearing rave reviews. After using Hersolution Gel, I felt like I rediscovered my confidence! It made all the difference.”

Or consider Mark, 32:

“Honestly, I didn’t think a gel could have such an impact. But wow! My partner noticed right away too!”

These testimonials aren’t just fluff; they’re real stories from people like us who took action and saw results.

Quick Recap

The best spot to buy Hersolution Gel is through its official site.

Typical price sits around £39.99 or ₹3,000 in India.

Buying in bundles gets you better deals.

If you're ready to step up your game and bring back that spark into your life, don’t hesitate!

Get yourself some Hersolution Gel, and see how it can make an impact on your personal experiences today!

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL AND DISCOVER NEW HEIGHTS

Vigorelle Vs Hersolution Gel

When it comes to enhancing intimacy, choosing the right product can feel overwhelming.

I've been there, weighing options like Vigorelle and Hersolution Gel.

These two gels promise to amp up your experience, but how do they stack up against each other?

Let’s break it down.

Ingredients That Matter

The first thing I look at is what goes into these products.

Hersolution Arousal Gel boasts a blend of natural ingredients designed to boost sensitivity and arousal.

It’s formulated with:

L-arginine: Helps improve blood flow.

Ginseng: Known for its energising properties.

Peppermint oil: Adds a cooling sensation that many find pleasurable.

On the flip side, Vigorelle also uses natural ingredients but leans heavily on botanical extracts.

While both gels are made with quality in mind, the ingredient list of Hersolution Gel feels more targeted towards enhancing pleasure directly.

Ease of Use

Next up is application.

Both gels come in easy-to-use tubes, but let’s talk about how they feel during use.

Hersolution Gel has a smooth texture that absorbs quickly without leaving a sticky residue.

It’s perfect for those spontaneous moments when you don’t want anything getting in the way.

In contrast, some users have noted that Vigorelle takes longer to absorb and can feel slightly tacky afterward.

For me, ease of use is crucial. I want something that enhances my experience without any fuss.

Sensation and Effectiveness

Now onto the juicy part—how do they actually perform?

With Hersolution Arousal Gel, many users report an immediate increase in sensitivity and heightened arousal within minutes of application.

I’ve had friends share their experiences:

"I applied it before date night, and wow! The sensations were incredible! It was like rediscovering intimacy all over again." — Sarah, 32

That kind of feedback speaks volumes about its effectiveness.

On the other hand, while some users appreciate the effects of Vigorelle, others say it takes longer to kick in and doesn’t always deliver the same intensity as Hersolution Gel.

Customer Feedback

Listening to real experiences helps clarify things further.

For instance:

"I tried Vigorelle first but switched to Hersolution after just one use. The difference was night and day!" — James, 28

That sentiment isn’t rare among those who switch from Vigorelle to Hersolution Gel after realising what they were missing out on.

People seem drawn towards the quick results offered by Hersolution Arousal Gel compared to its competitor.

Price Point Considerations

Finally, let's chat about cost because we all want value for our money!

While prices may fluctuate depending on where you shop, generally speaking:

Hersolution Gel often comes at a competitive price point for what you get.

Vigorelle, while sometimes cheaper upfront, may not offer the same bang for your buck if you're looking for effectiveness right off the bat.

In my book? Investing in something that works well is worth every penny!

Final Thoughts

So here we are: when comparing Vigorelle vs Hersolution Gel, it's clear which one leads in several key areas—ingredients, ease of use, effectiveness, customer satisfaction—and yes—even price value!

If you're serious about enhancing your intimate moments without complications or delays,

give Hersolution Arousal Gel a shot!

Trust me; you won’t regret it!

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL FOR A THRILLING EXPERIENCE

How To Use Hersolution Gel

Let’s talk about something real.

You’ve heard the buzz about HerSolution Gel.

Maybe you’re curious, maybe you’re skeptical.

Either way, if you're looking to spice things up or enhance your intimate moments, knowing how to use HerSolution Gel is crucial.

I remember when I first came across it.

I had a friend who couldn’t stop raving about it.

She said it changed her life.

That got me thinking—what's the secret sauce?

So, let's break down how to apply this gel effectively and get the most out of it.

Hersolution Gel How To Apply: Step-By-Step Guide

Start with Clean Skin

Make sure the area is clean and dry.

This isn’t just for hygiene; it helps the gel work better.

Squeeze Out a Small Amount

You don’t need much; a pea-sized amount usually does the trick.

Start small—you can always add more if needed.

Apply Gently

Rub the gel on your desired areas.

Be gentle; this isn’t a wrestling match!

Wait for Absorption

Give it a minute or two to soak in.

You’ll feel a warming sensation—that’s normal!

Enjoy Your Moment

Once absorbed, you’re ready to go!

Let things unfold naturally from here.

Why It Works

The magic of HerSolution Gel lies in its unique formulation.

It’s designed to increase sensitivity and pleasure during intimacy.

Think of it like turning up the volume on your favourite song—it just makes everything more enjoyable!

Real Stories from Users

Let me share some testimonials that really hit home:

“I was hesitant at first but decided to give HerSolution Gel a shot after hearing my friends rave about it. The application was easy, and wow... what a difference! I felt sensations I hadn’t experienced in years.” — Sarah, 32

And another one:

“Honestly, I didn’t think much could change in my relationship. After using HerSolution Gel, we both noticed an enhancement in our intimacy levels. It really brought us closer together.” — Jake, 29

These stories resonate because they reflect genuine experiences with HerSolution Gel.

It's not just hype; it's real people experiencing real benefits.

Tips for Maximum Enjoyment

Experiment with different amounts until you find what feels best for you.

Don’t rush—let things flow naturally.

If you're trying this with a partner, communicate openly about what feels good!

Final Thoughts on Hersolution Gel How To Apply

Using HerSolution Gel is straightforward and can lead to enhanced experiences for both partners.

Remember: start with clean skin, apply gently, and enjoy every moment that follows.

This isn’t just another product; it's an opportunity to reconnect and explore new heights of pleasure together.

So why wait? Get started today and see where this journey takes you!

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL TO INTENSIFY YOUR MOMENTS

FAQ

What is HerSolution Gel and how does it work?

HerSolution Gel is a topical product designed to enhance female arousal and intimacy. It works by increasing blood flow to the area, which can heighten sensitivity and pleasure during intimate moments.

How do I apply HerSolution Gel?

Applying HerSolution Gel is straightforward. Just use your fingers to apply a small amount directly to the clitoral area before intimacy. It's best to allow a few minutes for the gel to absorb for maximum effect.

What ingredients are in HerSolution Gel?

The gel contains natural ingredients like L-Arginine, which helps improve circulation, and various herbal extracts known for their soothing properties. Always check the label for the complete ingredient list if you have specific allergies.

Are there any side effects of using HerSolution Gel?

Most users don’t experience side effects, but some might notice mild irritation or an allergic reaction. It’s wise to do a patch test on a small skin area first if you're concerned about sensitivity.

What are people saying about HerSolution Gel in reviews?

Reviews of HerSolution Gel often highlight its effectiveness in enhancing arousal and satisfaction. Many users report positive experiences, noting increased sensitivity and pleasure during intimacy.

Where can I buy HerSolution Gel?

You can purchase HerSolution Gel from its official website or select online retailers. Always ensure you’re buying from a reputable source to avoid counterfeit products.

How much does HerSolution Gel cost?

The price of HerSolution Gel typically varies by retailer but usually ranges between £30 to £50 for a standard tube. Keep an eye out for discounts or bundle offers on the official site!

Is there a comparison between Vigorelle and HerSolution Gel?

Yes, Vigorelle and HerSolution Gel both aim to enhance female pleasure, but they differ in formulations and application methods. Some users prefer one over the other based on personal experiences.

Can I use HerSolution Gel with other products?

It’s generally safe to use with most water-based lubricants or oils. However, always read labels carefully and consult with a healthcare professional if you're unsure about compatibility.

How long does it take for HerSolution Gel to work?

Most users feel effects within minutes after application. For best results, give it some time after applying before engaging in intimate activities!

👉 BUY HERSOLUTION GEL AND IGNITE YOUR PASSION