#it would take pages and pages to say all that I want

[otiksimr]

Okay. So I saw a reblog that mentioned that they relinked their sources. And the reblog was being mean about it so I personally went and reviewed their sources.

Also only really the first sentence relates to their point. Which, to be nit picky, is a blunder on an argumentative standpoint.

Three of their links go to Wikipedia. Not to say that Wikipedia is uncredible, just to say that it is more credible to find sources that go into those specific topics. Also on the Wikipedia page those sections didn't have citations. For the following paragraphs, the information is gathered from the sites they linked.

Clipping wings, destroying queen cells and the usage of pheromones-as far as the citation says, is a way to swarm bees. + 1 point for getting something right. There is a big difference between 'getting rid of queens because of aggression' and 'getting rid of queens because you don't like them.' And yes. This is beekeeping. Beekeepers would obviously not want their hives crossbreeding with aggressive and or dangerous bee species. Africanized honey bees are notoriously dangerous.

Male drones die after breeding. Crushed or not, either way after the deed is done they die. For culling, only one of the sources mention it. So I cannot say whether or not this is standard practice. Someone else can research into that. And during the process they take care in making sure the Queen in not harmed. Unless they're trying to say that artificial inseminations is an issue in itself.

The sources they give for 'commercial beekeepers even cull their hives during winter' do not say that beekeepers cull their hives during winter.

Yeah bugs feel pain. I'm fairly sure most animals do.

For the last three sources it's a science journal (congrats!), YaleEnviorment360 (I don't know how credible that site is but the article sites scientific data so it's seems okay to me). And BBC news. It gives quotes but it doesn't cite anything. It says "Stricter controls are needed to protect bees from other emerging diseases, researchers report in Science, external journal." But it doesn't cite the reports themselves. Just the website link. Either way. So far the most credible section.

And just to be clear. My ass does not own bees or work in any areas in relation to them. So read the sources yourself and make your own opinion about it. This is all a very dumbed down version of what the sources said.

Wild that folks keep saying beekeepers abuse bees as if bees are not both venomous flying animals and fully unionized

[wearysparrows]

Cyanide in my Seeds

ao3/masterlist

Summary: While visiting Caleb at his college, you convince him to practice kissing with you. It escalates.

cw(18+): female reader, reader is mc, Pseudo-Incest. Kissing, Grinding, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pet Names, Minor Angst, Mirrors, Texting, Not Beta Read, Coming In Pants, Pre current timeline 5K

Caleb:

paging pip. what’s your 20 ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

9:31AM

Me:

Train was a little early. I’m in your dorm already. Your roommate let me in on his way out lol

9:31AM

Caleb:

him getting to see you before me in my own room is crazy work. im on my way, be a good girl and wait for me ;)

9:32AM

You lay back on the bed of Caleb’s dorm, setting your phone down next to you. You had intended to meet up with him directly when you arrived, but had run into his roommate, Gideon, on your way. Your train had arrived surprisingly early, and Caleb was still finishing the last of his morning workout in the campus gym. Gideon kindly led you back to their dorm so that you could wait patiently for your brother. Well, your boyfriend, as everyone on campus knew him. Caleb’s little stunt had worked wonders to fend his many admirers off. It was obvious to anyone who looked that you were close, though you tried not to read the comments on Caleb’s university’s social media that wondered at why Caleb was dating a girl with quiet eyes, and a blank face that gave nothing away to match. You weren’t Caleb’s shadow anymore – but you were still in the darkness, comparatively. He cast a long shadow, for all of his light. Still, it was impossible to not love Caleb for his radiance, and you were no exception. He excelled in everything – and that included the boyfriend act. 

It was almost too good. Caleb treating you the way you had long wanted him to treat you – well, it could be hard on the heart. But you were selfish, too. You’d accept the facsimile of the thing if it wasn’t reality. You’d drink it in before he found someone he truly cared about. Someone he didn’t have to pretend with. Someone he was in love with. Someone he would fill up with all of himself. Someone who wasn’t his sister. Someone who wasn’t you. The thought made your insides twist around themselves, and a small wave of nausea washed over you. Images of Caleb standing next to the nebulous form of someone else flashed in your mind's eye. You swatted at them in the real world, as if the motion would coax them to leave you alone. 

The sound of the door handle turning blessedly interrupted your musings. Caleb stepped in, looking flushed and unfairly handsome. He was still in his gym clothes – a tight white tank top, and grey exercise shorts that hugged him in all the right places. He was still covered in a soft sheen of sweat, and his chest rose and fell quickly, like he had been running just moments before. Your body was standing before you had a chance to tell it to do otherwise, walking towards him. He grinned at you, pretty purple eyes full of unadulterated mirth in your direction. Your walk quickly turned into a run, and you leapt at him. Caleb caught you easily, just as you knew he would. As he always had, since you were children. Your brother’s strength had never once faltered. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He held you with one arm around your back, the other easily supporting the span of your ass. A chuckle left him as you made contact with his body.

“Should I take this as you saying you missed me?” 

You buried your face in his neck, and inhaled. The familiar smell of his sweat, of the outside, of his warmth. You melted into him. It was like being kissed by your own personal sun. You could feel the quickness with which his heart beat under your touch.

“Caleb,” you managed. It was enough for him to understand.

“Hi, baby. I missed you, too.”

Caleb walked with you as you clung to him in the direction of his dorm bed. You knew it was coming, that he was going to release you, but you would have rather crawled under his skin and lived inside him. He set you down on the mattress, hand slipping out from under your ass. You released your hold on him reluctantly. He knelt in between your knees, his big hands spreading your legs wide apart to make room for him. A bolt of shyness shot through you, but you did your best to ignore it. Had he looked down between your legs, he would have seen everything. You were in a skirt, after all. But his gaze stayed respectful, even when you didn’t want it to.

“You’re gonna get my sweat all over your cute little clothes. I need to shower before we hang out. You got here before I could make myself all pretty for you. I stink.”

You leaned towards him and sniffed with intention. He didn’t stink. He smelled like sweat, cotton, clean laundry –  the ever tranquil scent of your brother. You still buried your face in his pillow back home, trying to catch what was left of it, even months after he was gone. He had caught you, once. You had expected him to tease you, but he said nothing, staring at you hugging his pillow with an unreadable expression on his face. Neither of you mentioned it, afterwards. Things went on as usual.

“You don’t stink. You smell good. Suit yourself, though.”

A funny look came over Caleb’s face, along with the slow rise of a deeper blush to his already red cheeks and ears. The corner of his mouth turned up, like he was trying to keep another expression in check. His hands drifted further up your legs, until he was squeezing your bare thighs. Any closer, and he could have touched you between your legs.

“You’re messin’ with me. Here,”

He removed one hand from your thigh, and you momentarily mourned its absence. He produced his phone from his pocket, and put it face down on your leg. It was cold and heavy, dead weight. Nothing like his warm hand. It was something that belonged to him, though. You would accept it as recompense for his missing touch. He tapped the back of his phone with a finger.

“You can play with my phone while you wait, if you want. It still has all the games you downloaded last time. I’ll be quick.”

You didn’t want to be apart from him for any longer than you had to. You had so little time together as it was. Even just a few minutes sounded like an age to your ears.

“Okay. But if you aren’t fast enough, I’m going to hide all your stuff from you. You’ll never find your fancy compass again.”

Caleb stood, and his groin was momentarily level with your face. You didn’t have the strength to avert your eyes. Every part of him was big. Those stupid shorts of his left nothing to the imagination. Not that you didn’t already know. He reached out, ruffling your hair. Then, as if thinking better of it, he smoothed it back into place with his palms. The pleasant sensation of his touch made your lower back prickle. 

“Instead of playin’ hide and seek with my stuff, play with me instead when I’m done.”

Caleb dropped his hands as he spoke and turned from you. As he stepped away, your hand reached out and grasped his shorts. You stared at it as if it had acted on its own accord. Caleb tilted his head at you, smiling. 

“What, you wanna shower with me?”

You dropped your hand, feeling your face warm at his teasing. What would he have done if you said yes? 

You shook your head instead of saying yes, I do want to shower with you. Just like when we were kids, I want to do everything you do, I want to do everything with you, I want you–

“Just make it quick. I’m only here for a day.”

Caleb nodded, his expression turning into one of mock resoluteness. He couldn’t keep it up, though, and it morphed back into a warm smile.

“Ten-four. Give me five minutes, angel.”

With that, Caleb disappeared into the adjacent restroom. The dorm was small, which meant you could hear every movement he made in the shower. Instead of straining your ears to catch his sounds, you laid back on the bed, and picked up Caleb’s phone. You didn’t have to guess at his password – it was your birthday. It had been for as long as you could remember. His wallpaper stared you in the face. More accurately, your face stared at you in the face, because his wallpaper was a brightly smiling picture of you, leaning over one of Caleb’s home cooked meals. Your stomach flipped. Not wanting your own eyes to continue to look back at you, you opened the first app your fingers touched – his camera roll. It wasn’t your intention to pry – but then again, Caleb didn’t really seem to mind, either. He never tried to hide his phone from you. There was nothing out of the ordinary – it was mostly slides from presentations and complicated diagrams of flight paths that you couldn’t decipher. There were some recent photos of you and Caleb together. Strangely, there weren’t any pictures of Caleb with his friends, as you would have imagined. Puzzled, you scrolled down to the groupings at the bottom. 

The little blue letters of the folders glowed faintly back at you. ‘Hidden’ seemed to stand out among them. You debated setting the phone down, letting Caleb keep his privacy. He was an adult man, and surely there were parts of himself he kept hidden, even from you. But your desire to peel him open and connect yourself to his insides got the better of you. You clicked it, and it unlocked with your face ID. You had no idea what to expect, but it hadn’t been this.

The first visible rows were almost entirely pictures of Caleb. Shirtless, in nothing but his boxers. In the mirror. You held your breath, as if you were hiding from something that would be able to hear your intake of oxygen. You clicked on one, your adrenaline racing through you, all the way into the tips of your thumbs. In it, Caleb stood in his boxers, phone in hand. He flexed his right bicep. The lighting was such that his muscles were deeply accentuated by dark shadows on his lovely tanned skin, the ripple of his abs moving down, down, turning into a line of dark hair that disappeared into his boxers. The outline of his dick was clearly visible in the soft spandex, suggested by the veins in his lower abdomen, too. The necklace that you gave him sat neatly in between his big pecs. Your mouth suddenly felt very, very dry. You forced yourself to swipe away from the image – but not before it had been permanently burned into your mind. You ached for him. Your brother, and Caleb. Whatever it was that was in between the two. You scrolled up and up through the hidden folder, and it was like watching the progression of Caleb turn into a man. He grew visibly taller, bigger. More tanned. His body fat shrank into virtual nothingness, until the striations of his muscles were visible under his skin.

Amongst the sea of Calebs, one photo stood out to you. It wasn’t Caleb at all. It was marked as a favorite, too. You clicked it, and the image of your sleeping face appeared on the screen. You were sleeping on Caleb’s bicep, wearing his shirt. It fell from your shoulder, revealing the smooth slope of your collarbone. You checked the date on the photo. It coincided with the last time Caleb had come home to visit. You had been so tired from studying the Hunter’s exam that you had fallen asleep on him. Questions sprang into your mind, rapid fire. Why did he have a photo of you sleeping, of all things? And why was it this deep in his hidden folder, if it was so recent? And why was it favorited? Your body felt uncomfortably hot. 

Was this really something he wanted to keep from you?

The sound of Caleb clattering open the bathroom door suddenly reached your ears. You had been so absorbed in your snooping that you hadn’t heard him cut off the flow of water. You threw his phone onto the bed, where it landed with a dejected thump. You crossed your hands awkwardly over your lap. Caleb padded over to you, rubbing a towel over his still wet hair. He was, of course, in nothing but a pair of sweats. You stared down at his bare feet instead of up into his face. Guilt dug into your ribs, rendering you unable to look up at him.

“What were you up to, pipsqueak? What’s with that weird posture? Doin’ something bad again?”

Caleb’s warm hand, still slightly damp, nudged your chin up so that you were forced to look up into his handsome face. There was a stray droplet of water on his neck. You wanted to lick it off.

“No,” you answered levelly. Or what you hoped was levelly.

“Just…meditating.” 

This earned a brow raise from Caleb, and he snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. Obvious disbelief rang in his voice.

“Riiight. And I’m the Dali Lama.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Internally, you desperately searched for something to redirect his line of questioning away from you ogling at the partial nudes on his phone. After an agonizing moment of mental scrabbling, it came to you. You tugged on the leg of his sweats.

“Let me dry your hair, Caleb. You’re dripping everywhere.”

Caleb blinked owlishly, and then looked more pleased than ever. He nudged your arm with his hand.

“Wow, the prince treatment from you? You really did miss me.”

Caleb wandered back into the bathroom for a moment, and reappeared holding a rather beaten-up looking hair dryer. It was nothing like the nice, expensive one he had wired you money for that you had at home. He plugged it into the power strip adjacent to you, and put it in your hands. You held it, and its weight somehow felt awkward in your grip. More peculiar guilt rang its bells in your ears. He sent you money every week, but couldn’t get himself a better hair dryer? You made a mental note. Even if it was with his money, you could still get him a better one. You shook your head.

“You’re so popular, you basically are a prince around here. You don’t need me for special treatment.”

Caleb sat between your legs, and looked up at you. The violet of his eyes reflected the light that was cutting in through the small window of the dorm. You didn’t share his blood, but sometimes, inexplicably, you looked at him and saw some aspect of yourself looking back. What aspect it was, though, you didn’t know.

“But you’re the only one who I want special treatment from. Besides,”

He leaned his head against the inside of your knee, and pressed a chaste kiss there. 

“That makes you my princess, right?”

You opted to ignore his question, as well as the kiss, and turned the hairdryer on, instead. You could only handle so much of his vague insinuations about the nature of your relationship without crossing any lines. Caleb leaned his head down obediently as you worked your fingers through the softness of his dark hair. The heat and the successive whirr of the dryer lulled you into a pleasant state of relaxation. Caleb’s eyes were closed, his head bowed. You brushed your fingers through his hair again and again, a makeshift comb. His hair was quick to dry, and it seemed as if he had cut it just recently. You clicked off the hairdryer, and set it aside. Caleb didn’t rise. He was still sitting in between your legs, head low to his chest. One of his hands had found a firm grip around the back of your ankle. It traced your Achilles heel. You dragged your nails through the hair on the back of his neck. It was cropped short, and had a fine texture that tickled your palms. Caleb’s body shuddered, and he made a little sound like a whine in the back of his throat. You paused your movements, concerned.

“Caleb? Did I hurt you?”

He looked up at you, a slow raise of his head. His face and ears were flushed red – from the heat of the dryer, you figured. He licked his chapped lips.

“No, baby. Don’t worry. Your hands were just makin’ me feel really good.”

His words went right in between your legs. Your mind conjured images of your hands in other places, making him feel really good. You retracted your hands, and put them in your lap, lest they try something else. You were reminded that someday, likely soon, someone else would be making him feel good. You averted your eyes from him. Caleb tilted his head, putting himself back in the line of your gaze.

“What’s going on in that noggin’ of yours? First you treat me like a prince, then you go all shy on me.”

You bit at your lip between your teeth, weighing the value of telling him the truth.

“I was just thinking that,”

You shuffled a socked foot against the ground.

“Someday soon, you’ll find someone. You know, a real girlfriend. And we won’t be able to do this kind of thing anymore. You said I could practice having a boyfriend with you, right? So maybe we should...”

You stared at your hands in your lap. The pictures of Caleb half-naked swam in your mind. Maybe they were intended for someone. Maybe someone had already seen them. Someone who wasn’t you. Your hands felt heavier than ever.

“Practice before you can’t anymore.”

Caleb was quiet for a long moment. Too long. You opened your mouth to brush it off, ask him to pretend you hadn’t said anything, you were just kidding around – but Caleb was back to spreading your thighs apart, still kneeling between them. His hands were much closer to your hips, now. Too close. He squeezed, hard.

“You know I won’t date anyone else. I’ve told you that.”

You tried not to let his phrasing give you false hopes. Anyone else, he said. As if you were actually dating. 

“What if I start dating someone, then? You won’t help me practice?”

You nudged his thigh with your foot.

“Or should I get someone else to do it?”

It was a low blow, but one you knew would work on him. You weren’t an idiot – you knew Caleb’s possessiveness ran deeper than the still waters he tried to make it appear as. Even if his feelings weren’t romantic, he was still your brother in every sense but blood. You could push his buttons just as easily as he could yours.

Caleb’s eyes were hard, but he was still smiling up at you. He stood without a word, and you were lifted off of the bed from underneath your armpits, like you weighed nothing to him. He switched your positions – he sat on the bed, and you were deposited in his lap, your back against his broad chest. He leaned his head over your shoulder, big hands on your waist. You realized, then, that you were directly across from the dorm room mirror – the image of yourself sitting between your brother’s legs, wide eyed, staring back at you. Caleb’s voice was soft in your ear. You watched as his lips almost brushed the shell of it in the mirror.

“Sure, I’ll help you practice. Why don’t you start by introducing me as your boyfriend? Go on.”

Caleb gestured to the mirror. You had introduced yourself to others as Caleb’s girlfriend boundless times, at this point. But introducing him was something else altogether – nevermind while faced with your own reflection in the mirror. As you watched, Caleb watched you, too. You could feel him slowly harden underneath your ass as he eyed your reflection. His sudden bullying incited you to do the same to him. You nodded, as if you were going along with his whims. 

“Okay,”

You took a breath, as if winding up for it. He stroked your sides with his thumbs. His skin practically brimmed with his verve.

“Hi, everyone. I’d like to introduce you to my big brother, Caleb…”

Caleb’s dick twitched underneath you. His lips set into a hard line. He nosed your ear delicately, despite the look on his face.

“Be nice. Don’t make me say it. Why don’t you be a good girl and try that again? Otherwise, I’ll have to put you in the air for a minute as punishment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his threat. It was hardly a punishment at all to be suspended in the safe net of his evol, surrounded by the weightlessness of his very life force. You started again.

“Okay, okay. Hi everyone. I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Caleb…”

Caleb twitched underneath you again. His hands squeezed at your waist, rubbing up and down the span of your ribcage and hips. You squirmed, because it tickled. Caleb tried to hold you still, to little avail. His voice teased your ear.

“Was that so hard?”

You pretended to try to escape his firm grasp. His voice lowered to a dull rasp. It cracked over his curse.

“Don’t squirm around so much. Shit.”

And then you were lifted into the air, not by Caleb’s hands but by his evol. It set you down next to him on the bed, instead. You blinked at him, crossing your legs over each other. He chuckled, a little breathless, but he didn’t speak. He rubbed his hands over his muscular thighs, like he had energy that had nowhere to go. You nudged him with your foot, and he took it into his lap. Right next to his obvious hard-on. You resisted the urge to press your foot against it, to see him react to you like you wanted him to, instead of pushing you away. He squeezed the arch of your foot, rubbing it absently. To your eyes, it seemed as if he had momentarily forgotten the point of all of this.

“I don’t just want to practice introductions, Caleb.”

You flexed your foot in his grasp. He turned his head to look at you, and tilted it, questioning. There was something barely restrained in his gaze. An appetite, starved. 

“What are you tryin’ to say, baby? Use your words.”

You scooted closer to him, feeling emboldened by his earlier reactions to you. 

“There’s other things real couples do, right? Like…”

You trailed off, struggling to make the word kissing come out of your mouth. Instead, you pressed your index finger against Caleb’s full lips. His eyebrows rose a fraction, and then another. He grasped your wrist, and pressed a kiss to the side of your finger before pulling it from his mouth. His fingers wrapped all the way around your wrist, easily.

“Liiike…?”

He was going to make you say it, wasn’t he?

You felt yourself losing steam. Maybe his lack of acknowledgement was an out for the both of you. Maybe you were an idiot for thinking he might actually kiss you – even just for practice. You drew your foot and wrist away from his grasp, and Caleb’s hands hovered in the air in their absences. You backed up against Caleb’s pillow, and supported yourself against it. Caleb’s body followed after yours, crawling on his hands and knees until he was hovering over you, his knees on either side of your hips, supporting himself by his hands next to your head. He was so big, especially like this. There was nowhere to escape to. He leaned down, and spoke into your ear again.

“Were you going to say that you wanted to practice kissin’ me? You want me to kiss you. Like I’m your boyfriend. I’m right, right?”

You shoved your hands against his chest, trying halfheartedly to dislodge him from your personal space. He didn’t budge, not even a fraction. His necklace hung between you. It clinked with your efforts, like some sort of consolation prize for trying. You scowled at him. 

“Stop screwing around, Caleb. You’re obviously not taking this seriously.”

Caleb’s face above you had become serious, along with his tone. His eyes darted around your face, like he was committing something memory. 

“I’m not screwing around. If you were my girlfriend,” his knuckles drifted over your jaw, his touch feather-light.

“I’d be very serious about you. I am serious about you. So,”

His face hovered closer to yours. You felt his breath fan over your face, smelled the heat of its sweetness. His voice lowered to a rough whisper.

“Want me to kiss you?”

You lay very still. Your body felt heavy, like if you moved anything besides your head, the moment would shatter, and be lost to you forever. Caleb would change his mind, and you would never get this chance again. You nodded, almost imperceptibly. Your nose brushed against Caleb’s. Not a moment after you had given your silent permission, his lips were on yours. It was soft at first, firm but gentle. You hardly had the wherewithal to react, initially. But his mouth insisted, and you gradually met him in kind. Caleb was breathing hard through his nose, and he leaned in closer to you, bending at the elbows. Emotions you normally ignored bubbled up in your chest. Emotions you shouldn’t have towards your brother. Slithering, crawling things that wouldn’t scatter no matter how much you chased them away.

 Your hands naturally found their way to his bare chest, feeling the warm planes of his pecs, and sliding down to his abs. He tensed underneath your touch, and moaned softly into your mouth. The sound made heat curl tightly in your belly, and you lifted your stomach up against him, where his dick was hard in his sweats. His hand slipped behind your head on the pillow, and fisted your hair. He pulled your mouth away from his, and lifted his face. His chest heaved, and his lips shone with the mix of your saliva.

You thought he was about to say something, but he merely looked for a moment, before he switched your positions. The gentle caress of his evol lifted you into the air, and he lay down underneath you, setting your body neatly down across the large span of him. You propped yourself up on your palms, and straddled him. His dick pressed hard in between your legs, underneath your skirt. You hardly had a moment to get your bearings, because his big hand was pressing on the back of your head, fisting your hair again, guiding you back to his mouth. His free hand had a too-firm grip on your hip, his thumb hooked underneath the waistband of your skirt. You wanted him to pull it down, to pull it off of you. To put his dick inside of you, instead of just against you.

Caleb’s tongue was in your mouth, teaching you the feel of him, imprinting his taste on you. You knew, then, that you never wanted to taste anyone else. You had already known. Caleb sucked your tongue into his mouth, and then offered you his to do the same. You lapped at it, then sucked. Caleb’s hands pressed you hard against his body, roaming everywhere except where you wanted him. He rutted up against you as he sucked, and his body shuddered underneath you. A strangle of a groan came out of his throat, and he cursed into your mouth. Then, he was still. You pulled back from him, and peered into his face, confused. 

There was no misconstruing what was unsaid in his gaze. Want radiated from his eyes, from his swollen lips and red face. He chased after your lips once more, kissing you again, and then on the side of your mouth, your cheek, your ear. His palm swatted your ass gently. 

“Get up for just a sec. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

You peeled yourself off of him, feeling yourself deflate at his unceremonious leave. You sat up on the bed, and Caleb hurried with an unusual quickness to the restroom. The sound of the faucet covered whatever other sounds he was making. You stared blankly at your own face in the mirror across from the bed. You were red to your ears, your hair a mess from Caleb’s grip on it. Your clothes were rumpled. You quickly averted your eyes, and adjusted yourself back as best you could. Caleb returned not a moment later, and sat back onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms, not giving you the option of going elsewhere. His embrace was near crushing, and he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t want to leave you, even for a second. How do you feel? Was it fun to practice with me?”

You struggled to find your voice, and cleared your throat. Caleb’s thumb was tracing over your lips. He tugged at them, and appeared to be inspecting your teeth. The reasoning for his short disappearance trickled into your mind, and you felt your face become hot all over again. Momentarily, you debated teasing him for it, but thought the better of it. The thought that you had elicited such a strong reaction from his body was something you tucked away for later. You spoke around his touch with some difficulty.  

“It wash fun. I like prachticing with you. Can we…prachtice some more?”

Caleb chuckled, a funny, strained sound. He tugged at your lip with his thumb once more before releasing your face. The air felt cold on your teeth.

“As long as you promise I’m the only one you’ll practice with, we can do it whenever you want. Promise me.” 

His voice had a tinge of strained helplessness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of. Caleb lifted his pinky, and you lifted yours in kind, wrapping it around his much larger one. His finger squeezed yours. You swore you could feel his pulse, there. Maybe it was just your own.

“I promise. Cross my heart, and hope to die.”

[cupidbedsy]

🪻 for "I neglected you." "No, it's ok, you..." "No, it's not ok. I should have realized how lonely you felt." With pookie Quinn please?

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked lonely lavender 🪻 !

warnings: quinn neglecting reader, tired quinn, unresolved conflict

word count: 937

florist cupid: thank you so much for requesting lovie, i'm sorry it's taken me a while to write it! i hope you enjoy it, the ending is a bit rushed because i was running out of ideas and words to use 😭

you've known about quinn's tendencies to throw everything he has into hockey. every time you got home from work, he was rewatching old games or jotting down ideas in his notebook for practice the next day. it was one of your favorite things about him, how dedicated he was, but it quickly also became one of your least favorite things.

he did everything he could to make the team better, to make himself better, but at the same time, he was wearing himself thin. every time he'd come home from practice or a game, he'd look a little bit more tired than how he left. each loss cut into him and you couldn't recall the amount of nights he spent laying awake after one, recounting all the things they could've done differently.

eventually, you started seeing less of him, mentally at least. he was still there when you got home from a long day at work, he was still there to pull you into his arms in the middle of the night, but you can't remember the last time the two of you had sat down and had dinner together.

you didn't want to rant to him about the minor mishap that you had or that you lost one your favorite sweaters the other day, not when he he felt like he had the weight of the team on his shoulders, he had bigger things to worry about.

but deep down, you wanted him to focus on something other than the losses, other than the comments. each time you would offer to go out with him or watch a movie, he would shake his head and push you aside, claiming he had some stuff to work on. with each rejection, you grew annoyed and soon it became too much.

you got home and once again, quinn was sitting there scribbling something in that godforsaken notebook. you couldn't help the sigh (huff) that escaped you, alerting quinn to your presence.

he gave you a small smile before turning back to his page, "hi baby."

you raked a hand through your hair, making it more messy than it already was. you shrugged your coat off, hanging it up, kicked your shoes off, and made your way over to the couch, plopping down next to him.

he didn't say anything, just continued to write with the cutest furrow of his eyebrow as he concentrated and you frowned as it softened your annoyance.

"quinn can we talk?"

"mhm." he drew something, you couldn't tell what, but you could assume it was a play he had been curating up since you walked through the door.

"quinn."

"'m listening, y/n/n." but he wasn't, he kept his focus on the page, drawing random lines over it.

you sighed, taking the notebook away from him, "quinn."

finally he looked up, pushing his hair out of his face to look at you, "why'd you take it away? i was working on something."

he reached for it but he simply held it out of his reach, "because i want to talk to you and i can't do that when your head is somewhere else."

"i was listening."

"no you weren't."

you placed the notebook behind you, hands making quick work of moving to the hem of your shirt and fidgeting with it. you mulled over your thoughts in your head, trying to organize them as best as you could.

"what'd you want to talk about?"

"quinn, listen..." you started but were quickly cut off by his bewildered voice.

"you're not breaking up with me are you?"

"what? no, of course not. i just wanted to talk about something."

he let out a sigh of relief, nodding as he sank back into the couch. you took this as a sign to go forward, continuing to play with the hem of your shirt, "you know how much i love that you take everything to hear,t the criticism, the compliments, the suggestions, and how much you do to make the team better but recently."

you trailed off again, a wave of nervousness washing over you, "i feel like we haven't been us."

he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "what do you mean?"

"when's the last time we had dinner, quinn?"

your question hit him in the face like a cold glass of water. he recounted the past month in his head, trying to rack his brain for the last time you two had gone on a date or spent the night together besides cuddling in bed.

you were right, it had been a while since the two of you had done anything, the realization rushed through him, a feeling of guilt and sadness following it.

"i neglected you."

his soft words made you frown, you didn't mean to make him feel worse than he already was, you just wanted to bring it to his attention, you reached for his hand, tangling your fingers in his, "no, it's okay, you..."

you tried to explain but he shook his head, slipping his hand from yours and standing up, "no, it's not okay. i should've realized how lonely you felt."

you watched as he walked fast to the kitchen, slipping his shoes on. he needed time to think, time to make this right between the two of you. he had messed up, and it weighed him down more than anything on the team could've.

"quinn, honey, where are you going?" you went to follow after him but as soon as you stood up he closed the door to your apartment, leaving you more alone than you had felt in weeks.

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[gooselycharm]

severance comic process write up (unasked for)

i finished season 1 of severance jan 24 and maybe by then NL had already begun his apple tv tirades. so maybe that's why i thought of the get it twisted speech? dont remember exactly but i was like wait......... this kinda fits...... and basically the images were forming in my head and i had to get them out. this is the best kind of inspiration to have. when it feels like you are afflicted with a life-threatening disease and the only cure is to draw pictures

i decided i wanted square panels and a black and white color scheme pretty early on. i wanted the pacing to feel kind of fast, so one line per page (basically i was trying to match the monologue). black and white also made sense because 1) i didn't want this to take 2 years like my last comic 2) fits theme of the show and the monologue rapidly whipping back and forth 3) i thought maybe i'd riso print this in the beginning and 1 color would be cheapest/easiest

the sketching phase was really smooth. it was like the images were in my mind already and just needed to be brought to life. my motivation was strong as well (i thought it was really funny and if no one liked it at least i really really liked it).

^ my sketches. most compositions made it to final without major edits. i did cut almost all of the last 8 because i didn't feel like I needed the moment to be dragged out so much AND i was getting pretty tired by that point lol.

one page i'm glad i changed was the ms casey one. the reason i changed it at first was because i thought it was too similar to the irving/burt one. and then i ended up really liking the new composition.

as i moved to final, i had a couple of inspirations in mind. i'm a huge fan of sophia foster-dimino's work, and in particular her sex fantasy comics

^ books/zines i looked at for inspiration. second image is a spread from sex fantasy #4.

i also was inspired by jennifer xiao's comics and how chootalks and nogoodwithcat handle linework and value

i was inspired by jennifer's pop up ads comic for this page. i like the humor in her work and wanted to bring an element of that into my comic.

i love these drawings by choo that showcase these eerie tableaus of desserts/cakes/hammers/etc! i was trying to evoke the same vibe with the two "get it twisted" pages with the stack of waffles.

also, just tons and tons of references taken from the show and stock images.

i pretty much just worked for two weeks straight until i finished. what unemployment does to a motherfucker. even though it's fanart and the words aren't mine, it's a pretty personal comic. i got suddenly laid off last fall which has made me feel all sorts of feelings, and then starting up my job search this year has been grueling. it kinda blows my mind that anyone expects you to love your job. i love my cat. i love the people important to me. i love moving my body and eating good food and listening to music and being out in nature. i love the color green. i dont love my fucking JOB lmfao!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! are you freaking CRAZY???????? literally do NOT get it twisted. but also please hire me. <- this dichotomy has been making me nuts

anyway. the reception to my comic has been mind blowing. people have said some insanely nice things. i also really appreciate anyone who's read and enjoyed the comic without knowledge of severance or northernlion LMAO honestly amazed and in disbelief.... ty so much..... it really means a lot!!!!!!!!!!

okay i ran out of things to say for now byeeeeeeeeeeee

[jmtorres]

the idea of this society breaks my head. nothing can get finished. new building construction? why bother? you're knitting something? no you're not, you might as well be Penelope frogging your progress every night.

but also nothing can be meaningfully recorded. scientific data? the day's work is all gone and fuck you if your experiment needed longer than a day to run. in the morning there's no record of what's been going on or how long it's been the same day; is someone trying to keep count? they have to do it by memory.

there's nothing new to read. and for a while it's the most well read populace, because why do 'work', but slowly everyone has eventually read everything and the society shifts to hungrily waiting for new short stories posted online at the end of the day, anything anyone could finish by dark.

You log into work. There's a counter with digits in millions on the website. The work slack is taken up with a discussion about who's reading what and where they got it from. You ask about the second quarter analysis you were supposed to be working on. Half the chat says "not it!" and someone, who's not your direct supervisor or even in your department, DMs you to say, Take the day off. Don't worry about it. Look, your boss is talking about Red Dead Redemption in the work slack, it's fine. What would you do with a day off? Shopping, no, bad idea, don't think about what you need to get done, think about more like your bucket list. Travel, hmm, it's a bit of a free-for-all, yes if you go to the airport you can get a ticket for wherever the pilots feel like flying, they're not really charging much either, the computer system wants them to but, well, somebody figured out how to break ticketing a while back.

Bewildered you ask, why? what is going on?

It's Groundhog Day, says your coworker.

No, it's not, you say, it's September??

I can't do this part, says your coworker, I can't explain it to you, just, work doesn't matter today, do something fun.

And then they log off.

Your boss is indeed talking video games in the main channel. The alerts channel has been disabled. The company CEO just posted a skydiving video, which isn't that out of the ordinary, but in a work channel?

Experimentally, you pull up a news website. There's nothing but a large number posted. Is it--yes, it's the same large number that was on your work's front page.

You don't know what it means.

You don't feel like having fun.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[neeeooon]

hey can I please request bllk boys reacting to touch starved reader wanting to touch them but doesn't want to come off as annoying or clingy?

you can do any of the bllk boys but would prefer if you include sae,rin and barou :)

YOU GOT IT BABE ty for the request!! 🤍🫶

when you’re touch starved ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi sae

-> sae is… complex. he’s hard to read, but you certainly enjoy trying to figure him out

-> one thing you can’t figure out, though, is his take on touch

-> sae isn’t a very touchy person when you’re together. you enjoy each others presence, but there isn’t a need for wandering hands or careless caresses

-> but after he returns from the business trip that stole him from you for two weeks, you’re in desperate need of more than a smile from him

-> you’re able to subtly get him alone, but even then he goes straight upstairs to take a nap. sighing, you begin to beam when you hear him call from the top, “are you coming, y/n?”

-> your feet can’t move faster as you fly up the stairs and into the bed, curling into your boyfriend’s side like your life depended on it. it wasn’t much, but you didn’t want to push

-> but then sae “falls asleep”, and when he does, his arm loops around your waist, hand on your stomach as he pulls you so that your back is flush against his chest

-> he can hear your quiet little giggles and smiles. “why didn’t you just ask, y/n?” “you’re tired, and i didn’t want to be annoying.”

-> “you’re not annoying,” he hums sleepily before placing a kiss on your shoulder blade and finally dozing off

itoshi rin

-> he isn’t a fan of pda, and you’re okay with that. you’d never do anything to make him uncomfortable, but you also don’t want to come off as annoying when you lean into his side or stare longingly at his empty hand

-> you’re hanging out together one day, rin curled on the couch with a book while you’re supposed to be watching tv

-> but you’re not. you’re watching him and the little crease of concentration appear between his brows as his teal eyes skim the page and you’re suddenly itching to be in his arm between his chest and his book

-> you slowly inch closer and closer until your thigh grazes his, but rin doesn’t move. you don’t want to interrupt or annoy him, but you are ten seconds away from hugging yourself

-> “rin?” you whisper. he blinks up at you expectingly, so you ignore the blush on your cheeks and say, “i need cuddles or i’m gonna die.”

-> after a few seconds, he snickers a little at your antics and moves his book to one hand, leaving a gap for you to slip against his chest

-> “am i not giving you enough attention?” “no :(“ “i’m sorry, lovely. i’ll do better.”

barou shouei

-> you’re too embarrassed to ask barou for anything physical when he’s around, since he’s usually busy, and you don’t want him to think you’re annoying

-> however. after your family left for nearly a week, leaving you alone, you were close to tears when barou came over and didn’t immediately hug you

-> “y/n?” “i’m okay!” “are you sure? you’re rubbing your arm very hard..”

-> you stop rubbing your arm and hug your middle instead. “i’m good! all good. um, h-how are you?”

-> he’s not believing that. worried that the loneliness is wearing on you mentally, he steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “i’m sorry for not being around recently. i’m here, now—“

-> “oh my god, can you just—“ you pluck his hands from your shoulders and place them on your face, sighing happily and how warm he is

-> barou stares down at you with red cheeks. “oh. you. um. oh.” “i don’t want to come off as clingy, but i will bite you if you aren’t hugging me in ten seconds.” he hugs you in two

karasu tabito

-> karasu is usually very good at keeping a hand on your waist or hips whenever you’re together, but he’s been distracted lately

-> you know he’s busy and stressed, so you don’t want to add to his annoyances with your clinginess

-> thankfully, karasu is not an idiot. “y/n?” he asks when you avoid looking at him for the fourth time in three minutes to pick at your jeans. “hm?”

-> “what are you thinking?” “… it’s embarrassing..” “no, it’s not, dear. i want to know.” “……. can i hold your hand?”

-> and he starts laughing, which makes your face flush bright red. “y/n, i’m your boyfriend. you don’t have to ask to hold my hand.” “but you’re so busy, and i—“

-> he cuts you off by taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “you can hold my hand. do you want a hug as well?” “yes, please.”

yukimiya kenyu

-> you’re hot-natured and usually hate when people touch you, and yukimiya knows this, so he usually keeps a considerate but comfortable distance from you

-> however, you don’t see your boyfriend as “people”. you appreciate his consideration, but you feel like you’ll die if you go another day without physical contact

-> “yuki?” “yes, honey?” “um.. never mind,” you turn away, feeling clingy when he turned away from the paper in his hands to look at you

-> yukimiya furrows his brows and stands to gently catch your hand. he lets you go, remembering (incorrectly) that you don’t like his touch, and you cannot stand it anymore

-> “are you oka—“ “don’t laugh. please hold my hand again.”

-> he’d never laugh at you, but he does smile a bit. “oh? but i thought—“ “kenyu, i have not been touched by another human being in days. please hold my hand and hug me or i might go clinically insane.” “yes ma’am/sir.”

[pleasantboatpress]

Tarnished Gold by @primtheamazing / prim_the_amazing

Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him. The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life. Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy. - Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.

title/chapter numbers/drop caps: Almendra body text/page numbers/headers: Ibarra Real Nova

118,837 words | 342 pages

First of all I really want to say thank you to the author for such a wonderful fic, it was both my first big fic I read in the fandom, AND it is the reason that I have been absolutely CONSUMED for the last 9 months or so reading SVSSS fic. I enjoyed this fic so much when I first read it that I reread it not even a month later, and bc of that I really wanted to do it justice ❣️ it is suchhh a good Luo Binghe character study!

For the design I really wanted to try out some things, so I used my foil quill pen to foil the chapter heads. For the edge decoration, I tried out painting the edges using this Glenn Malkin youtube video which while very satisfying with the finished product, it is also quite disheartening if you don't sand enough. I went up to 1500 grit to get the edges looking good. I would really like to thank @copticcowgirl a whole bunch for all the hand-holding and cheerleading she did, along with all the tips she so readily gave. I really appreciated it. I made my cameo do the hard work for me by cutting out the lotus design on the back cover and the little goldfish on the front using some gold paper and marbled paper, respectively. The front is representative of the important scenes in the fic that take place near the goldfish pond, and the back is for the golden medallion one of the key players in the fic wears.

I had fun designing it! And then after designing it, I procrastinated 5 months on making it and despite the fact that literally every step was a struggle I am very proud of this book ahh! This copy was gifted to the author, and I am very keen to make my own copy. Probably in a couple months time haha. Thank you so much for the fic, prim!!!!

[mikashisus]

❛ ── WE COULD SAY 'LET IT BE' ❜

⤷ synopsis. the two of you never acknowledged the wedge between you when it came to secrets... there was simply no need.

aventurine x gn!reader. 1.6k. ( contents : hurt/comfort ) ╱ taglist. @wystiix @pneumosia @kazuinvocation @pinkxpantha @pixelcafe-network ( art creds : miothle ) HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theother-victoria ML !!!

06:30 system hours 

(Name) I have a new suit in the shop! Just finished the tailoring yesterday :3  06:30 PM

(Name) I know u can see this (╥﹏╥)  07:20 PM

(Name) Well… come to the shop when u get the chance! U mentioned wanting a new suit last time we talked, and I even added more of those feathers u like! (´｡• ᵕ •｡) 07:41 PM

He pocketed his phone with a small smile. That’s right, he almost forgot about your little surprise. When he briefly mentioned potentially wanting a new suit, your eyes sparkled with delight. Next thing he knew, he was sending you his measurements, and you had disappeared to your workshop to begin the tailoring process. 

You didn’t have to do this for him… you really didn’t. He was fine with the current suit he was wearing. Yet, the pure joy in your eyes as you whipped out your sketchbook and began designing was something he didn’t want to take away from you. 

It was clear you loved your job. You’d often send him pictures of your newest creations, or videos of you trying on some of the designs. When he was holed up in the comfort of his room, he’d smile— genuinely smile —and admire the joy in your voice as you explained all the details of your work. 

Tonight was a brilliant night in the dreamscape. The stars shimmered brightly overhead as the sounds of the busy streets of the Golden Hour encompassed him. He wasn’t keeping track of the time, too lost in his thoughts to really know how long he had spent up here on this roof. Eventually, he’d return to his room— maybe stop off at your shop first, if he had the energy. 

Right now, however, he wanted to spend a little more time gazing out at the sight of the seemingly endless dreamscape. 

He recalled the first time he met you; It had been shortly after the Charmony Festival on the Radiant Feldspar. You had been chatting idly with Ms. Jade, your excitement palpable as you showed the woman a series of gorgeous dress and pantsuit designs on your phone. She hummed approvingly, pointing to a black, white, and navy pantsuit that caught her eye. Before you could further entertain her with your services, she caught sight of Aventurine.

Instinctively, a polite, orchestrated smile appeared on his lips as he approached the two of you. You greeted him with an eager smile, one so bright it sent him reeling. 

You gave him your name, and he repeated it over again in his head, wondering why it had been so familiar, when you gave him the answer to his voiceless question. “I’m Miss Robin’s personal designer, though my workshop is located here on Penacony.” 

Ah. So you were the famed designer for the idol, Robin. You had been the one to make all her dresses that were adored all over the cosmos. He wouldn’t be surprised if your services were booked for the next three Amber Eras. 

It was clear Jade was seeking out your services. “Would you be able to complete a full line for the IPC’s Ten Stonehearts?” The woman questioned, her sultry voice grabbing your attention once more.

Your eyes lit up instantaneously. You quickly reached for the sketchbook hanging at your side and flipped to an open page. He caught a glimpse of some of the designs. One suit stood out in particular, though it was gone in a split second. 

“I’d be honored, Ms. Jade! What for? A gala? Ball? Seasonal event? Casual work wear? Sleepwear? What about—” You continued to ramble, listing more than a dozen options. How in the world could you talk so fast? 

Jade smiled at your enthusiasm. “How about something sophisticated for an ornate, formal event? Akin to the Charmony Festival.” 

You nodded, scribbling down notes in your sketchbook. “Got it. I’d like to keep in touch, if that’s okay with you, Ms. Jade. For more details and occasional pictures.” 

“Of course. I’ll give you my work number.” 

As you exchanged contacts with Jade, you sent a small glance in Aventurine’s direction. There was a certain look in your eyes he couldn’t quite place. He only figured it out later when he found you in a quiet corner of the Feldspar, humming softly as you sketched out a lavish suit. 

His usual, cordial smile took homage on his lips once more as he approached slowly, the clack of his shoes alerting you as your head whipped up. There was a brief flash of fear, before you relaxed, and he was once again sent reeling. 

What in the world was that? 

You didn’t give him time to mull over it, as you greeted him with a smile. “Ah, Mr. Aventurine! I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your suit.” 

A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. Suit? You didn’t need to include him in whatever Jade was scheming, though the thought of owning something entirely his with his preferences didn’t sound too bad. Yet, at the same time, it wasn’t necessary. 

Despite that thought, he entertained you. He gave you a curt nod. “Alright, then. Ask away, friend.” 

And that was how he wound up in the palm of your hand— whether it had been willingly or unwillingly. You found it difficult to slice open the layers of him underneath his carefully structured cordial smile, and he found himself wondering what could’ve possibly happened to you to make you as antsy as a mouse. Curiosity went both ways, he supposed. 

Though the two of you never acknowledged the wedge between you when it came to secrets, there was still an unspoken appreciation for the other’s company. He found himself wanting to seek you out, but every time, he restrained himself. He couldn’t allow himself to rely on someone. 

Then, your warm smile would appear in his mind, and he’d get that same twisting feeling in his stomach that he always got when he thought of you. 

His phone buzzed once more, and he reached for it, a small smile already on his face as he imagined what you could’ve sent him next. Maybe this time it was a picture of the suit, or maybe even a video of you begging him to come see it because your excitement was too great. However, it wasn’t either of those. Instead, it was a business related text. 

His smile faded, and he let out a heavy sigh as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Business could wait. Though, from Topaz’s cordial tone, it seemed quite serious. He weighed his options in his head, his thoughts jumbling together like a mess of colors on a canvas. 

Then, he made a choice. 

The scent of earth and musk entered his nose as he pushed open the door to the shop. The bells above the door jingled loudly, making him wince. There was a slight shuffling from the back room as he gazed around at all the displays. From elegant ball gowns, to casual chic, to professional work wear— anything under the sun could be found in your shop. 

“Coming!” He heard you call, then a loud thump as something was knocked to the floor. 

He softly chuckled, picturing your clumsiness in his head. A loud sigh sounded, and that same twisting feeling entered his stomach again as he laid eyes on you. You looked up, patting down your pants, and beamed as you met his eyes. 

“Aventurine!” 

He couldn’t recall when you dropped the formalities. He said your name, a name that has plagued his mind since he met you. 

“Come, look!” You, eager to show him the suit you finished, dragged him by the sleeve into the back room— which just so happened to be where your workshop was located. The dusty scent of fabric grew stronger as you both entered. 

You led him over to the mannequin showcasing the extravagant suit and clasped your hands together, a small giggle leaving your lips as you awaited his reaction. He took in the sight of the peacock feathers first, running his fingers over them. They were soft, fluffy, akin to the fur lining his jacket. The teal coat reached the floor, with golden tassels on the ends. The gold and black suit shimmered under the dim lights of your workshop, and it was then he realized you added a little extra flair (sparkles) to the entire thing. 

“Would you like to try it on?” You asked, your eyes flickering between him and your masterpiece. 

He was speechless. What could he say? He couldn’t form a single sentence, his mind racing as he stared at the suit in awe. Was this really for him? Did you seriously spend countless hours on this just because you wanted to? 

It was hard to believe. 

Your excited smile eased into one of comfort. “It’ll be waiting here for you.”

He had never confided in you. You didn’t know who he was outside of Aventurine, yet somehow, that wasn’t needed for you to understand him. It was the same with you— he wasn’t aware of what caused you to become so guarded, but he found himself understanding you anyway. 

There was a wedge between you; it was a very obvious one. However, you both refused to act on it. There was simply no need. 

11:00 system hours 

Aventurine Thank you. 11:01 PM

(Name)  The suit looks marvelous on u!!! (≧∇≦) 11:09 PM

Aventurine [sent 50,000 credits] 11:12 PM

(Name)  ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! WHAT U don’t need to do that!!! It’s free!!!  11:14 PM

Aventurine You deserve to be compensated, anyway. Besides, I might request your services in the future 11:17 PM

(Name) I still don’t think 50,000 is necessary though.. (╥﹏╥)  11:23 PM

Aventurine Just take it, (Name) Please 11:24 PM

(Name) Fineeeee but only bc I can’t refuse u!! 11:26 PM

He chuckled softly and turned his phone off, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

notes. HAPPY BIRTHDAY VIC !!! i rlly rlly hope u enjoyed this, i spent the whole afternoon on it and i was so scared bc i've never written for aven before so i was like aaaaaa i don't wanna mischaracterize him 🤕💔 i'm also sorry this is so late !!! i hope u had the best bday ever ml aka the black cat to my orange cat, my drinking buddy, my fellow lethal co enjoyer 🤍🤍🤍 also huge ty to gwen and mira for proofreading mwah mwah

© 2025 mikashisus.

[purple-paige-purple]

my main pazzi evidence!

hey guys, people have been asking me to give me reasoning as to why i think pazzi is real so here ya go. there is A LOT more i could say and a ton more evidence but imma try to piece my basic thoughts together explain as much as i can consicely.

1. their general vibe

ok lemme say first of all, the thing that pisses me off most about pazzi deniers is that they dont acknowledge hard evidence. like hand placement, eye contact, the "is it spit" video, etc. but the thing that's the absolute kicker to me is their entire vibe around each other.

i think the animal letter/pillow video is a really good example of this. start by imagining how you would play that game with your friends, even your closest friends of ten years. would you giggle at them and smile at them the way that p + a look at/talk to each other? probably not. (and if you do, babes im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this...) the entire video was just not something you'd expect from friends AT ALL.

also. the way paige's ENTIRE demeanor changes near azzi. duuuuude its so adorable. any time she's talking to azzi, and even sometimes when azzi is within earshot, paige's voice softens SUBSTANTIALLY and she becomes more thoughtful and calm. an example of this would be kk's (second) crumbl live in the bedroom, when azzi walks in and all of a sudden paige is now giggling quietly as opposed to cracking up loudly like she was before. i think its the whole "calming presence" idea and p + a really both are each other's anchor.

also u don't go on a cruise with your best friend and act the way they acted (and posted).

2. the hard evidence

the aforementioned "is it spit" video. like bro. no matter what the fuck azzi said, what paige responded was extremely suggestive, and azzi's reaction to it just proves that. paige we know that ur faggot ass's favorite tongue movement to lets just take a chill pill on live tv (jk pls dont stop keep feeding our delulu pazzi shipper asses)

another piece of hard evidence: "happy birthday to the precious princess 💗" OK PAIGE WE KNOW SHES UR WIFE. paige wanted to say "my precious princess" so bad its so obvious

paige and azzi also have not shut down ANY rumors or even spoken on the subject of their suspected relationship. instead, i would go so far as to say they've fed into it, the posts about each other, the continuous posting of the "💗" emoji even though the entire internet has a suspicion about what it means. this also ties into the fact that they do have social media, paige is active a lot, their teammates are active, and they definitely (no matter how) seeing these pazzi edits. they are OUT THERE and even the announcers know it.

ice and kk's faces whenever p + a are flirting got me ctfu every time. ice does not try to hide it AT ALL and even though i think kk tries, once in a while she makes a face (the interview where she is in the middle of them)

3. no other relationships/their dynamic

lets be generous to the deniers and say that they've only had smth (a relationship, whether it be serious or not) since 2021. they have not been with anyone since. i will say it again. they have not been with anyone since. with their popularity and how gorgeous/attractive they both are, i feel like if they were seen close with anyone, we would know about it. fine, someone could say they are just both locking in to school and bball, but i really just think p + a work so well together and basically have the same schedule so there is pretty much no negatives to them being together, therefore no reason why it would take away from school/bball. i think they are each other's person and really just compliment each other so well (opposites attract!)

basically the way they act is not how "just friends" act. i dont make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

ok so thats my basic thoughts. i could LITERALLY go on for pages (and i will if you guys want!) just let me know (send me an ask or smth) and ill make more posts with more evidence and just basically debriefing it. ok thank u girlypops for listening to my ted talk

ps. thank you to @elliesglock for debriefing some of the uconn lives, pls continue bc they are so fun to read and u have such good thoughts on everything!

[emsdevs]

Be Okay

Bear and Bug AU 🐻🐞

a/n: this got incredibly long 🧍‍♀️ 3.5 k words and 7 pages on google docs later... here is the next part of Bear and Bug!! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Also I posted this the other day as well but just because this is the last part of the main "story" in this au does NOT mean it's over!! I wanna keep Bear and Bug going as long as you all will let me!! So pls feel free to send in any requests, thoughts, or questions you have about the universe!! once again, i hope y'all enjoy this one because I enjoyed writing it!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

“Hey,” you stared at Jack, unsure where to go from here. You can’t take your eyes off of your best friend, but you can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole moving around behind you in order to give the two of you some privacy. It was silent for a long time, but you knew this was a conversation that needed to happen, not just for you two. You weren’t sure what exactly had been happening at the lake house while you were gone, but you doubted it was anything good. You knew Quinn was blaming Jack, and the last you knew, Luke was as angry with you as Jack was. You figured that whenever you decided to return, the tension would be tenfold what it was when you left.

Finally, Jack breaks the silence, “You came back.” You could see the slightest bit of relief on his face, mixed with a lot of regret.

“Yeah, Alex talked me into it,” you’d never felt this awkward around Jack. You almost felt unsure, of yourself, of what to say, of where to go from where you are. It was unnatural for the two of you.

“We really need to talk,” he sounds worried, and your heart drops. You can feel it. This is it. This is where your friendship with Jack ends. This is the last time you’ll see him. It’s the last time you’ll see Quinn, Luke, Cole, Trevor, Alex, Ellen, Jim. Your life is about to go downhill.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “yeah, you’re right.” You reluctantly move to sit near him on the couch. He sits back down as well, leaving plenty of space between the two of you. 

“So,” he begins, rubbing his hands on his pants to rid them of the sweat. 

~~

Trevor, Cole, and Alex had taken it upon themselves to search for Quinn and Luke, not wanting them to accidentally interrupt the conversation you were currently having with Jack downstairs. After not finding them anywhere down there, the three boys made their way upstairs. Trevor checked Quinn’s room, finding nothing, while Alex checked Luke’s, finding the same. Just as they were about to give up, assuming the two of them must’ve gone somewhere, Cole makes the decision to check your room, just in case. There, he finds Quinn curled up on your bed, cuddling into one of your pillows, and Luke nestled into a large beanbag chair you had in the corner of your room. The three boys share a look, silently deciding to at least wake up Quinn so that he’s aware of what’s going on.

“Quinn. Q. Wake up, bud,” Trevor was whisper-yelling, trying to wake Quinn up but also let Luke sleep.

Soon, Quinn began to stir, giving the three boys a confused look before his brain caught up, “Where is Bug?” He wastes no time. He wants you, not them. No, he needs you. 

“She’s downstairs, but you can’t go to her right now,” Trevor knows he’s probably the last person in the house that Quinn would want to listen to, so he looks over his shoulder toward the other two boys for help.

“What do you mean? Does she not wanna see me?”

“She’s talking things through with Jack right now,” Cole steps in, “We all know whatever happens between you two will depend on how her conversation with Jack goes. You gotta let them talk it out before trying to fix things between you.”

“Then why even wake me up at all?” Quinn was more miserable now than before. You were in the same town as him, in the same building. You were just downstairs, and he still couldn’t go to you. The boys should’ve just let him sleep.

“We just wanted you to know what’s going on. We know how you feel about her. We want everything to work out between you two, okay? She’s been miserable the past few weeks,” Cole has hated seeing you so down. You were always bright and sunny, always meeting his permanent smile with an even brighter one. You were the light of everyone’s life, and somehow your light was blown out in minutes. It felt like wandering around in darkness for all of the boys. They needed you to keep them going, so they can see what’s ahead of them, what they could accomplish. Without your light, everything was dull for all of them.

“She’s been miserable?” Quinn felt his chest somehow cave in even further than it already had. He felt empty inside, but now it’s just a tightness taking up his entire chest, like someone squeezing him, trapping him.

“Yeah, man. She’s just been crying and moping. It’s taken so much effort to get her to eat any real meals too. She misses all three of you guys, but I know even just one conversation with you would’ve helped,” Cole stared at his lap as he talked. You had almost been a shell of yourself without your three favorite boys, and that scared Cole. He’d never seen you like that, and he didn’t want to see you like that ever again.

“Oh, god. I knew I should’ve reached out. I just,” Quinn sniffled, the tears welling up again, “I just didn’t think she’d wanna hear from me. I mean, when she… when she walked out,” he cut himself off. He was fully crying now, which he would usually never do in front of any of the boys, but he didn’t care right now. 

“Don’t blame yourself, bro. She thought the same thing about you. It took all three of us all morning to talk her into coming back here. She was blaming herself. She never hated you. Promise,” Alex was speaking softly to Quinn now, hoping to help console someone he considered an older brother. The four boys sat there, worry for you clear on all of their faces. They couldn’t hear what you and Jack were saying downstairs, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t wondering what the state of all of their relationships with you would be after today.

~~

“So, uh, first of all, I wanna say I’m sorry, and I swear we’ll circle back around to it later, but first I feel like I need to actually listen to what you were trying to tell me three weeks ago. Tell me about you and Quinn. I’m all ears,” he gives a tight smile, and although you’re a little weary, you begin to tell him.

“Oh- okay, um. Nothing happened on purpose. We got really close that first year I was at UMich while you were with the National Development team. It was nothing serious then. It was just nice to have someone on campus who really knew us. When he left for Van in second semester, we called each other a lot. That’s when the nicknames started. It kept going like that until the summer, but after you got drafted, you and I decided to live up the summer with each other. I guess Quinn felt a little neglected or jealous or whatever. That’s why he was so short with everyone then, especially me. I went back to school that fall so worried that I had somehow done something wrong. He still wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t know why it hurt so badly then. Toward the end of October, the Canucks were playing the Red Wings in Detroit. After the game, Quinn came to campus, and we argued for a while. But he ended up telling me that he was falling in love with me, and I felt the same way about him. We worked on things together for a while and ended up deciding to give us a shot. We didn’t wanna freak anyone out or cause drama or get anyone excited if it wasn’t gonna work, so we decided to keep it to ourselves for a while. It was just supposed to be a long distance thing, but we both struggled with that. I went to visit him once over Christmas break and over spring break, and he came to spend All-Star break with me. I need you to know that I felt horrible hiding it from everyone, mainly you. I felt so guilty for so long, and I couldn’t wait for the summer so that I could finally tell you. We knew it would be better to tell everyone in person, especially after how long we waited to mention it. I didn’t mean to mess anything up between you and your brothers or between you and me. If you want me and Quinn to end things for good, I understand that, and I would do that if it meant the three of you would be on good terms again,” you finally stop talking. Tears are streaming down your face now, and although you haven’t been able to look at him, you’re sure Jack looks similar. There’s a pit in your stomach, and you’re still worried about where this conversation might lead you and Jack.

“I should have listened to that story a long time ago, and I don’t want you to end things with Quinn, okay?” he can feel his heart breaking at the sadness on your face.

“But Jack-” 

“No. I’m serious. You both were so happy together, and I’m so sorry I ruined that. You’ve sacrificed so much for me throughout our lives that I couldn’t even begin to count it all. I overreacted, like a lot. I was only thinking about myself, and I’ve realized just how often I’ve done that now. It’s a little weird for me, yeah, and of course, I wish you had told me sooner. But I understand now that you had valid reasons, and the only thing I should’ve done is support you. I’ve never been good at sharing you, but I think it’s time I start. I love you, Bug. You’re my best friend, and it’s time I start treating you like it,” he takes a deep breath. He can see the hope in your eyes now and the relief surrounding it. Maybe this would work out for the two of you after all. 

“Jack, no. Please don’t feel bad. I should have told you. You were going through such a difficult time, and I made it ten times worse. I’m so sorry, Jacky,” you place a hand on his leg, almost as if he’d be able to feel how sorry you felt through the contact.

“I’m serious, Bug. I want you both to be happy. It’ll be a lot to get used to at first, but I’ll get over it,” he’s looking at you so earnestly, but if you’re honest, you didn’t hear much past the first sentence.

“You’ve been calling me Bug?” you’re sure you probably look shell-shocked or something. He hated that nickname just a few weeks ago, probably because it was from Quinn. Now, though, he’s using it. That alone is enough to prove his acceptance of your relationship with his brother.

“Oh-” he’s surprised that’s your answer, “yeah, I uh, I used it a decent amount over the past few weeks kinda sarcastically, but I, um, I guess it stuck? I don’t know. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you’re smiling now. It’s not as bright as it would normally be, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “Thank you so much, Jacky. I love you,” you spring forward, bringing him into a hug. He hugs you back just as tightly, glad to have his best friend back.

Soon, he pulls back and starts speaking again, “Go find Quinn, Bugger. He needs you.”

“Thanks, J,” you press a kiss to his cheek before standing up to go find Quinn, “We’ll hang out later, okay? Promise.”

“Sounds good,” as he watched you walk away, Jack felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. Everything will be okay between the two of you. The guilt doesn’t disappear completely, though. If he had just heard you out in the first place, nobody would’ve gone through this emotional stress.

~~

You went straight for your room. You didn’t really have a reason. You could just tell that’s where Quinn would be. What you didn’t expect was to also see Trevor, Cole, and Alex with tears streaming down their faces and Luke who looks like he’s just woken up. You stand there, shocked and dejected. You’re the reason they feel like this. Maybe you should call things off with Quinn anyway. Things were so much easier before you two got closer. 

They stare at you with similar looks. It’s obvious they want to know what just happened between you and Jack, but that’s just something Jack will have to deal with. You need to talk with Quinn as soon as possible. 

“Can I talk to Quinn? Alone?” you whisper.

“Yes! Yeah, of course. C’mon guys, let’s go,” Cole is the one to get the other boys up and out of your room. They each gave you a stiff but supportive smile on their way out. Luke touched your shoulder for a moment as he walked out, giving you an apologetic look, letting you that he was no longer angry with you. That lifted some of the weight off your shoulders, but for now, you needed to focus on figuring things out with Quinn.

“How are you?” you’re hesitant, but you know he won’t be the one to start the conversation.

“How do think I am?” his words cut into you, sharper than any knife you’ve ever held. This won’t be an easy conversation.

“Quinn, I-”

“No, Bug, you don’t get to do that. You left. You left me. You left Jack. You left Luke. For what? To let us suffer? You thought we were all better off without you here, but we’ve all been miserable,” you can see the hurt in his eyes. It traps you, wraps around you like a barbed wire fence, leaving cuts and bruises all over. 

“Bear, I promi-”

“Just stop. I mean did you seriously think that was the best way to go about this? Running away? We could’ve talked this out three weeks ago! Instead, you had to run off to who knows where and do who knows what while I sat here worried sick about you. God, Bug, it only made things worse. Can’t you see that?” he was standing now, pacing back and forth as he spoke. He wasn’t about to hold back. No, he was done with that. He had to get his feelings out, even if it was the last thing he did.

“Will you let me speak?” you had to raise your voice so he’d listen to you, or even hear you at all. “I realize now that it wasn’t the best option. I know that, okay? But I did need to get away, from the house, from the stress, from my emotions. I needed to leave, so I knew how I felt about all of this. You can’t be mad at me for that. If I had stayed it would’ve only gotten worse. I would’ve just been stuck in my anger, and none of this ever would’ve gotten resolved,” you were breathing heavily now. There had to be some way to make him see your side of this.

“Well you could’ve come back sooner,” his voice was quieter now, but it hadn’t lost any of its venom.

“I know that! God! Will you please just stop trying to make me feel bad? I feel horrible! Does that make you happy? I’ve been losing my mind for three weeks, thinking I ruined your family! I’ve been miserable, Quinn, so don’t sit here and tell me how bad I should feel!”

“No,” something in his eyes changes. He’s looking at you differently now, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

“What do you mean, no?” you can’t help the bite that comes with your words. 

“No, that doesn’t make me happy. I’m sorry, Bug. You’re right. You finally chose yourself, and I shouldn’t be sitting here making you feel bad for it. You deserve to do what’s best for you, but please, don’t ever think I’d be happy about you feeling like that. That’s the last thing I want. I just… I was hurt. It seemed so easy for you to walk away. I’ve barely left your room since you left. I sleep in here most of the time. It, uh, made me feel close to you I guess,” he wasn’t meeting your eyes now. Hearing how he truly felt shattered your heart. You had hurt him like that. 

“Oh, Quinn. I’m so, so sorry, but you have to know that was nowhere near easy for me,” you step toward him, holding his right hand in your left and moving your right to cup his cheek. “I hated walking away from you, from all of you, but leaving you there on the dock left a hole in my chest that I haven’t been able to fill. I need you as much as you need me.” 

“I shouldn’t have come at you like that, Bug. I’m sorry. I was just scared to lose you. For good,” he moves his hands to hold your waist and leans his forehead down to rest against yours.

“I’m not leaving, okay? Never again. It’s me and you,” you give him a reassuring smile before pulling him into a hug.

“What about Jack? He’s most of the reason we’re in this mess in the first place,” he squeezes you a little tighter when you attempt to pull away, so you continue hugging him.

“He’s okay with this. He apologized, even wanted to know how we got together and everything. We’re okay, and he’s good with us being… well… us,” you feel Quinn breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly, the weight on your shoulders has completely lifted and the hole in your chest has been filled with the only thing that could possibly fill it: Quinn.

“Oh thank god. Just you and me now?”

“Just you and me,” you nod, “except I’m sure Jack and Luke will want you to share me sometimes,” you let out a laugh, feeling much lighter than you did when you walked in.

“I guess I can handle that,” he pulls back, and you’re worried the moment is over. The second he’s far enough away, though, he’s pulling you in for a kiss you’ve been waiting three weeks for.

~~

“Hey, man,” Trevor let his sentence hang in the air as he and the other three boys approached where Jack sat on the couch.

“Hey,” Jack looks up at them as they enter the room.

“So, uhhh, did you fix things with Bug?” Luke is the first one to bring it up. He’s tired of all the tension, and he wants you back in his life.

“Yeah, um, I think… I think we’re all good. I- I mean it’s not exactly like it used to be… before… well you know. But, um, I mean we talked it out, and I think we’ll be okay,” Jack still feels the weight of the future of your friendship resting on his shoulders, but after your conversation, it’s slowly been lifting. He has high hopes that everything will turn out alright.

Luke sighs in relief, “Finally. I just want everything to be normal again.”

“Wait. What about her and Quinn? Are you… like… chill with that?” Trevor once again chimes in.

“Dude,” Cole sighs.

“Bro…” Alex trails off at the same time.

“What? We were all thinking it,” Trevor says the last part under his breath.

Jack can’t help but breathe out a laugh, “I told her to go for it. They make each other happy. I should’ve never been mad about that.”

“What do you guys think they’re talking about up there?” Luke speaks in a small voice. 

“Are they just talking?” Trevor snorts out a laugh.

“Ew, bro. I do not need to think about that,” Jack might be cool with you dating his brother, but he definitely doesn’t want to think about what you two might get up to when you’re alone. 

“We just talked, guys,” you and Quinn find your way into the living room at the wrong time.

“C’mon, guys, we’ve only been back together for like five minutes,” you chime in. 

“Bug!” Luke makes his way to you in two strides, needing to have you near him.

“Lukey!” you give Luke the best hug you can manage, dropping Quinn’s hand in favor of hugging Luke.

“So everything is good now? Like you’re back? Summer can be normal? We can be normal?” Luke is rambling, but he doesn’t care. He needs his family to be okay again.

“Yeah, bud. We’re all gonna be okay,” Quinn reaches to ruffle Luke’s hair before joining in on the hug. He motions for Jack to come join, and soon all four of you are feeling like nothing had happened at all. 

Trevor decides for himself to join in, not one to enjoy feeling left out. He drags Cole and Alex with him, not wanting them to be left out either. Now, you’re all one big, happy family, in your own little weird way. It’s not perfect, and not everything is completely okay. Somehow, though, you all know you’ll make it through it. It’ll turn out alright.

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6 @books-hlmc @lukey-pookie-hughes43

join the taglist

[dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy]

-+-layers-+-

author's note: heyyy, this is my lil try at the event in the supernatural writer's community, my tags will be at the bottom of the page for acknowledgements! <3 also someone please tell me if i did this wrong i have not done events at all i hope this is ok...ALSO i wrote this as dean from preseries all the way to season 1 and 2 in mind, but really you can imagine it to any ofc

summary: falling in love with dean is more than just a couple of flirtatious comments and winks. love takes time and vulnerability. and the more you read into the little moments, the more severely you fall in love with him.

pairings: dean x reader

characters: dean, sam, bobby

word count: 4.8K

warnings: cursing, disgusting fluff

-+-+-+

there was this beautiful change you've noticed over the years with dean. he's still the same person you've been falling in love with, but he becomes more and more human to you, you realized.

before this gradual revelation, you admit, you viewed him as what he presented himself as, which was the "ladies man" or "sex god", as he would refer to himself (and you denied it when he claimed it so, even though all you could think about was putting it to the test). he plays into his tough facade, this macho-man exterior. and you can attest, he is a masculine guy. he's chivalrous, but he still finds ways to be 'a man' about it. he holds doors open for almost any woman he sees, but he makes a bigger deal about it if it's you he's opening it for, of course.

-+-+-+-

"i'm not hating on ac/dc. i like their 'sound', but every song sounds the same." you argued.

"they do not. their 'sound' is consistent. that doesn't mean they sound the exact same. that's like saying to you that every britney spears song sounds the exact same." he rebuttled with a feigned anger.

"i never said 'exact' same-" you tried to finish your thought as your hand reached the gas station door handle before you were roughly pulled away from it, as dean's hand wrapped on your bicep. he had yanked you behind him, not even looking back, as he cut in front of you to open the door and gave you a shit-eating grin as you stepped through the entrance. "jesus christ." you had incredulously eyed him at his aggressive chivalry, to which he just smirked and followed you inside.

-+-+-+-

he gives you jackets anytime you’re cold- more so shoving it over you at the shiver he sees. he pretends to be annoyed at you too, but secretly, he wants to do it. he yearns to. he wants you to ask, but he knows you're also too stubborn to ask for anything.

-+-+-+-

"oh, jesus." you hissed, walking out of the diner as dean held the door open for you, the harsh New England winter breeze licking your skin.

"what?" dean's head turned to you.

"nothing- just almost fell. didn't see the step." you lied. you couldn't tell dean you were cold...he told you to bring a jacket before you left the motel.

a moment passes before dean's gaze falls to your exposed arms that now had goosebumps trailing along them, and you heard him scoff, "i swear- didn't i tell you?" and he was already stripping himself of his leather jacket, hanging it on your shoulders as you both continued to walk.

"dean-" you protested.

"take it."

and he meant to sound as bothered as he did, but behind you, it was getting harder to control the swell in his stomach that he got when he saw you in his clothes.

-+-+-+-

you are simply not allowed to get hungry around him. he won't let it happen. no matter how much you tell him that you're not hungry, or that you'll eat later- he hardly takes no for an answer.

-+-+-+-

"hey." dean tried to get your attention from the motel bed, as you were diligently researching at the table across from him. "yoo-hoo..."

you were zoned in on the lore book you were reading while the rest of the world was dead to you. that was until a pencil almost lobotomized you. it smacked against the wall and bounced onto the page you were reading, causing you to flinch, before you whipped your head to dean. "do you mind?"

"no, not at all." he shakes his head, unbothered by your irritated demeanor. "i'm gonna get food from the Chinese place down the road, what do you want?"

you waved your hand before turning back to the book, "nothing for me, thanks."

he raised a brow at you, standing up from the bed and putting on his shoes, "no Chinese? i can grab a pizza instead..."

"no, go get Chinese. just don't worry about me, i'm still full from lunch."

dean stood up, just looking at you as your attention was still on the book. he's angry, but it's an anger he can't explain or vocalize to you. he can't stand when you don't feed yourself, or don't take care of yourself. and he's well aware he does it too, but that doesn't matter, it's you we're talking about. you need to eat. you need to live. so he leaves with a curt, "fine, i'll be back in a bit."

and about forty-five minutes later, he wordlessly strolled back in the motel room, and plopped a plastic container with your typical take-out order and a side of spring rolls on the table next to your book. you bit your cheek, trying to make eye contact with him, but he knew you would try to give him some excuse not to eat, so he ignored your stare, and sat down on the bed to go to town on his own food.

-+-+-+-

he pays for any of the road snacks he gets you, takes care of your car if it needs oil or repairs, hardly let's you go anywhere alone, and will watch your drink at the bar like a hawk. he's a protector, and a gentleman, and he likes to be viewed as one. it was what he felt he was made for. and he especially loved protecting you. and he didn't think you needed protecting. it made him want to all the more. he knew you could easily take care of yourself- you made that known. you're clearly self-sufficient on hunts, independent, and you hardly ever asked for anything from dean. that's why he loved being the one to protect and be there for you. it was an honor for him.

now...

that doesn't mean he was always "that guy" around you.

you treasured the moments he let go in front of you, or with you. as time went on, and as you fell harder for him, these moments seemed to really stick out to you.

it takes a painfully long time for dean to be comfortable around someone. completely, anyway. he can joke around, and he can express his concern for people, and he'll provide acts of service to those around him. while it all means that he is maintaining connections, it's not the same as being internally comfortable. being truly relaxed in front of people was harder for dean. with you he was, and it meant that he could be his true self. one of those moments was when he realized that he could talk about anything with you, and you would listen- really, listen. he didn't even know how much he appreciated it in the moment, but he knew he felt so connected with you. and you, well... you can't help but just listen to him.

-+-+-+-

"...and it was considered a Chevelle at the time, when the Impala was just a Chevrolet. but, it was a B-body, so it was bigger than the Malibu, and way sturdier. anyways, they marketed the Malibu as a family-car back then, even though it's an A-body, and it could've easily sold as a sportier model instead with all the modifications they offered. i mean, the thing was a V8, and they didn't intend to advertise it as something classier than a family-car? with how lean that thing was?"

dean watched a documentary about Chevys in the 60's last night at the motel before going to sleep. he had many opinions on the information that he had caught up on.

"i mean, it's no Camero. which they were talkin’ bout…y’know they built that beast from scratch? the first model of the Camero in ‘66- well, it was a ‘67 but they made it in ‘66… it was from scratch. another reason why Chevy beats Ford any day- because Ford based their F-body on their previous car, the Falcon- then they made Mustangs from that model.”

the two of you were walking back from an interview you conducted about fifteen minutes ago. he had been talking about cars and Chevys and everything in between since he saw a Monte Carlo parked on the street near the interviewees’ residence. it was honestly the most excited you had seen him in a long time… just letting him ramble. and when you asked a question (because you inevitably had to when it started to sound like he was speaking a foreign language), he explained it to you happily, and with no connotations that you weren’t as knowledgeable as he was about the topic. when he explained, he’s really trying to teach you- not like a mechanic who’s telling you how to switch gears…dean wanted you to understand so you could respond with the same level of knowledge. and you couldn’t help but just let him do it. you wouldn’t retain any of this information, in fact, you were still confused, but you just wanted to let him speak about his interest. you don’t even recall hearing him talk about anything this in depth.

you lovingly watched his facial expressions as he chatted with a boyish enthusiasm, and you hadn't even realize you were smiling at him until he matched yours slightly, with a questioning grin, ”what?”

you shook off your starstruck gaze, and recovered quickly, “no, nothing…just, Mustangs aren’t cool anymore?”

he opens his mouth, his face tightening as he finds the right words to convey his opinion, “no, I mean...they’re ok. but,” he scoffs, “they’re just like toy cars, compared to Chevy. they aren’t durable. you run a Mustang over a speed bump too fast and it’ll fold up like a lawn chair, i swear-”

you giggle, soaking in everything he wants to say, and he just gleamed for the first time in a long time as he kept your ears hostage. it was the least you could ever do for him.

-+-+-+-

you had a feeling your connection was mutual after some time, thankfully. there were little mannerisms or hints here and there that you would remind yourself of in case you started to lose hope in a future with him. the chivalry you would write off as just dean being dean, but this comfortability he projected was for you specifically.

he couldn’t leave you alone. not just out of the whole protection thing either, but he just was drawn to your presence. even if you didn’t talk, he wanted to just be next to you.

-+-+-+-

you raised the eyeliner to your waterline in the reflection of the mirror, lightly drawing it on when you heard the motel door open.

“turns out all three victims were on the same community baseball team. the last victim,” he elaborated as he eventually made his way to lean against the bathroom door frame, “was a coach before. this is the third victim with any relation to the team, even though he wasn't actively coaching-" his face twisted into a grimace of concern as his eyes landed on you, "why are you putting a crayon in your eye."

you maintained your focus, proceeding to the other eye, "it's not in my eye. the waterline...is just really...close." your speech broke apart with your focus. you leaned back from the mirror as you fingered through your makeup bag for a couple other small touch-up items. "alright, so when are you taking me out to the ball game, winchester?"

he glances to his watch, "their practice starts in three hours."

"buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks?" you turned to him playfully.

"only if you promise not to care if we ever get back." he pointed a taunting finger in your direction.

you smirked as he completed your reference, and you put the eyeliner back in the bag. "sounds good, but in the meantime, i need to pick up a new formal outfit or two. i figure we're going as reporters? i need to find new blouses...one has this bloodstain from our last hunt and it just won't come out. i was gonna go take a walk down by the goodwill, it's two blocks down."

dean shrugged, "i'll drive you."

you were grateful for the offer and assured him anyway, "i can walk. no point in just driving me two minutes."

"i can just go with you."

you faced dean at his suggestion, and tried to analyze his expression. he didn't seemed annoyed by the prospect of going with you to shop. "you sure? i don't know how long i'll be."

he shrugged again, "as long as we make back for the practice, it doesn't really matter."

you ran your teeth over your bottom lip, trying to bite your growing smile away. "alright, give me ten minutes then."

"'kay." and that would've been dean's cue to go watch the tv, or get the car started...but he stayed leaning against the entrance, putting his hands in his jean pockets, his eyes aimlessly wandering. he inhaled, as he mindlessly watched your makeup routine.

"you wanna sit down?" you offered cheekily, pulling out concealer.

he pursed his lips, as he thought about it and ultimately decided to, but what you didn't expect was him to sit on the closed toilet seat lid and stay in the bathroom with you. you let out a small huff of laughter, that thankfully he didn't pick up on, as he drew a carefully hand into your makeup bag. he was quiet, reading through all the products you used. he went as far as opening some of the bottles, curiously examining your products. he would make comments about the hunt or about something relevant here and there, but really, he was just there to be with you. he finally stopped rummaging through your makeup with a disgruntled shove at the bag, glaring confusedly at it as he muttered, "you really don't need that much."

you chuckled, appreciating his sentiment as zipped up the bag, gesturing for him to follow you as you left the bathroom to head to the impala.

and his need to in your near vicinity didn't end there.

once you were in the goodwill, you had assumed he would find a men's section to look through, but he trailed right behind you like a puppy dog. you had a decency to show him some of the clothing pieces you were looking at, a penny for his thoughts. and while he wouldn't give you true dictations of your fashion choices, he did offer comments along the lines of "that's nice" or "it's okay". but he obviously wasn't here because he wanted to talk fashion with you, although, if you wanted to, you know he would try to his best to keep up.

-+-+-+-

it even got to the point where sam started to pick up on dean's sense of trust and vulnerability around you. which didn't surprise him at all after he got to know you. in fact, he adored you too, as a sibling. he was glad to see dean have a bond with someone at the same level as he was. and sam knew that there was something blossoming, but he would only lightly tease, he didn't want to scare you off with the idea, god forbid it wasn't ready to happen yet. but, he could tell that you loved him. and sam could without a doubt, tell that dean loved you.

there's a psychological tell when it comes to subconscious love. they say when you get tired around certain people, whether you know it or not, you feel safer around them.

-+-+-+-

it was a rather tranquil afternoon in yet another motel room, sam had dragged a chair over to face the tv while you and dean shared a queen bed, even though there were two of them in the room. the hunt from the previous day, or should you say, that morning, had run until about 5am, and you had begged the boys to just lounge until the evening, knowing they wanted to take off into the next hunt soon. they can't say no to you, so they opted to relax for a couple of hours to recuperate. dean lied with his arms folded across his chest, his head dipping lower into the pillows by the minute, as you sat just a bit higher than him, with one knee drawn in.

on the pathetic motel tv, Scream from '96 played as sam was still clacking on his laptop, searching for new hunts. you had been making a few jesting remarks towards the movie, and sam would raise a baffled brow.

"all i'm saying is, if he didn't kill me, and just hauntingly threatened me over the phone, i would be turned on by ghostface."

sam blinked at his computer screen, "you are all kinds of weird." he looked over his shoulder to find you deviously smiling, and did a double-take in your direction as he looked from dean to you, and he dropped his jaw a bit, "did he fall asleep?"

you craned your head down slightly to see dean's eyed now closed, breathing slow and relaxed, and his head even fell closer to where your arm was next to him. you pouted your lips at him slightly, smiling after, "he did."

sam scoffed, shaking his head, "he never takes naps when anyone is with him. he hardly naps when it's just me and him... he won't even with dad, and definitely not other people." he mused.

you blew him off, butterflies frantically flying in your stomach, "oh, i'm sure he's just tired from that hunt. we didn't get in til the early morning."

"yeah, but, dean has run on days without sleep. he could've stayed awake if he wanted to, even if he only got a couple of hours. it's just...funny, i guess." he meant "funny" as in "wow, i can't believe my brother who is always on guard from everyone, can finally let it down around someone".

you glanced to dean with an enamored smile once more, this time lingering a bit, as you listened to his deep breaths, and light snores, "we can leave after he's up. i'd feel horrible waking him now."

sam nodded, turning back to the tv, and he even lowered the volume some. even he felt more relaxed, knowing just how much dean was able to be comfortable around you. he grinned to himself, happy for his brother, and for you. his grin grew into an open smile when he turned around twenty minutes later to find you asleep as well, sunken down completely into the bed, and your head inches away from dean's shoulder. he grabbed a picture on his phone, and made a mental note to show this to you and dean when you both get out of your own heads.

-+-+-+-

while you knew you were definitely a special person in his life, this relationship did confuse you more often than not. he couldn't muster up the words to ask you out, or be his partner, but he had the audacity to be all touchy-feely with you in front of bobby.. and of course, if sam could see through you both, bobby could in a heartbeat. the only difference between sam and bobby, is that bobby wanted to just take dean by the shirt and shake him til he scrambled out the words "i love her". bobby saw their love right in front of them. but he knew better than to intervene, though he was okay with shamelessly hinting it towards you and dean when the other wasn't in ear shot.

-+-+-+-

you and the boys had been dealing with a hunt about two hours west of Sioux Falls, but dean had practically forced you to just help with research, and to stay behind at bobby's while your ankle healed from a recent sprain. bobby was no help in this case, insisting he could use the help around the house, but since it's been the two of you, all he's asked you to do was to go find a two beers in the fridge. and one of them wasn't even for him. he asked you to drink so you would, and quote, "stop wearin' a hole in the floor" and relax while they were gone.

though you did help bobby figure out how to change the hdmi on the tv.

sometime around 11:30pm, your cell had started ringing in your pocket as you woke from the siesta you were taking on the couch. you fumbled for it groggily, opening the flip phone to answer it, "hello?"

"hey," sam winced as he said your name, already knowing that you're not going to like the contents of the call.

"everything ok?" you heard it all in his tone of voice.

"yes and no. i got off easy, but dean's got a concussion. not bad enough for the hospital, but bad enough to where he needs to be on bed rest for a week, at least. just uh, wanted to let you know." sam said distractedly, as you assumed he was the one driving, too.

"oh, shit. is he ok?" you breathed worriedly.

"he's fine, or at least will be fine, soon. but, he is asking for you...i don't know if he remembers that we left you at bobby's." sam mentions, tugging slightly at your heart strings.

"jesus, well- hurry home. i'll help take care of- it." you fumbled for words before the two of you hung up.

bobby had been awake still, and you informed him on the call as you both prepped the couch and sat idle for their return. you didn't think dean would be able to make it to the guest room up the stairs just yet, so for now the living room was dimmed and had water bottles stocked close by, and had a trash can for... well, just in case.

you were outside waiting before you even heard the rumbling engine pull up to the front of the house. the car had barely been in park before you raced to the backseat, where dean had been lying on his back, his eyes squeezed closed a bit, and his breath ragged and shallow, with a large, blood stain that had dripped from his left temple, and wherever gravity had taken it, which had been on a few patchy spots by his ear all the way to his jaw. poor baby. bobby and sam were the ones to lug him out, with a lot of moaning and groaning from all three of them, while you made sure to hold the door open, and bring in some of their duffels from the car.

dean was carefully eased onto the couch, his chest now rising with careful, calculated deep breaths, while blowing air out of his mouth. he had moved painfully slow as he laid down on his right side, his eyes shut tight.

you quietly sat the bags from the car by the entrance, hurriedly making your way to the couch, interrupting sam and dean's hushed conversation.

"stay down, man." sam whispered to his brother, keeping a light hand on dean's shoulder as he fidgeted.

"she wasn't in th'car, sam." dean croaked, eyes still closed as he dug half his head into the pillow.

you stuck your lips out in an exaggerated frown, bending at the knees next to dean, you cooed softly, "hey, crazy...what happened?"

he peered through squinting eyes, groaning slightly before answering, "mmm. hit m'head." aside from his visible pain, he actually looked like he sunk deeper into the couch when you made yourself known.

you run your hand over the blood matted on his hair, and your finger tips came back tinted. dean inhaled sharply at the touch, his eyes pinched shut again.

"sorry...sorry." you moved your hand away, grimacing. you turned to behind you, "bobby, could you-"

"already on it." bobby eyed you two before walking to the kitchen, and returning with a bowl of water and a rag.

sam rubs his forehead, addressing you and bobby, "he threw up on the way here once...but that was about fifteen minutes after the hunt. he's been ok since...just, dizzy, nauseous, and a bit confused."

"if he throws up again tonight, ya might wanna consider takin' him in." bobby exhales, "otherwise, seems like he's all in one piece." bobby deduced.

as sam and bobby conversed, you had moved to sit at the edge of the couch by dean's torso, while you gingerly cleaned his head up. he would mumble incoherently in the pillow when you got close to the opening of the cut, but risked moving himself carefully so you were within is sight. "where were you?" he rasped.

"i was here the whole time, i swear. you know where you are?" you looked to him with care, checking his battered memory.

he opened one eye for a moment before everything started to spin again, "bobby's."

"yeah. good... we're at bobby's." you nodded, and internally sighed of relief.

sam sank into the loveseat a couple feet away, keeping near in case things started to take a turn for the worse, but he was well aware he could leave him with you while he got some rest. you were more than capable of keeping watch over him, and tending to him. it was just for sam's own satisfaction to see that he was alright, after being a bit startled by the initial injury.

you finished with wiping down his hair, brushing your fingers through the dampened spots on his head before pulling your hand away. he moaned at the immediate absence of your touch.

"sorry, i'm done, i promise." you soothed as you set the rag and bowl away from the couch.

"no," dean grumbled, "felt good...yr'hand."

oh.

you hesitantly brought your hand back to his head, just barely brushing the fingertips through his disheveled hair, avoiding his wound. dean sighed heavily, the pained lines in his brows slowly returning back to their resting state.

a sweet tightness wrapped around your heart. you kept up with the motion for an hour or two, even though you knew after a couple of minutes he had already passed out. sam started to crash too, falling asleep in the chair with his head propped up by the heel of his hand.

bobby had treaded in from downstairs after a while, walking over to sam, patting him awake, basically demanding him to go to the guestroom to properly rest. when he walked over to you, he caught on to what you're doing, and shook his head with a slight smile. before he could comment, you defended yourself, "he asked me to do this."

"mhm. how long has he been 'sleep for?" bobby smirked.

you couldn't deny the care for the young man, "a while."

bobby nods his head to the stairs, "why don't you and i take shifts... you go get some hours in, and i'll wake him up in a few to make sure doofus here still remembers he's in love with you."

you reddened at his statement, gaping your mouth slightly at his bluntness, "bobby-"

"get some rest, kiddo. he'll be alright." bobby echoed, warmly.

you sighed, looking to dean one last time for the night. you tried to stand up, but felt a tug on your shirt, accompanied by a pitiful, "no."

dean had curled a fist into your shirt, keeping you sitting next to him, as he kept his eyes closed still. you could hardly tell if he was lucid. you exchanged glances with bobby, before shrugging it off, "i got him, bobby. just make my coffee strong in the morning."

bobby frustratingly teased you before starting back upstairs, "you kids..."

you turned your gaze back down to dean, still holding your shirt in his hand. bravely, you took his hand and unraveled it from the fabric and just held it. dean blinked his eyes open carefully, risking a tender glance at you, "hey," he attempted to smirk.

"hey, you." you casted him concerned smile. "how's your head?"

"mmm...still hurts." he whinged. he gave you a once over, "where's the nurse-maid outfit?"

you rolled your eyes, brushing a thumb against his hand in your grasp. "bobby's trying it on now."

he groaned into the pillow, this time less out of throbbing pain but out of disgust, "this is not the heaven i imagined."

you huffed a quiet laugh, watching him almost squirm uncomfortably at the thought. "yeah, well...you aren't dead yet, mister."

"coulda fooled me...i've got an angel in front of me." he flattered.

you shake your head, turning away from him, but not yet letting go of his hand. "you're delirious."

"this is the most 'with it' i've been all night." he counters, huskily.

and once again, you are left in a buzzed, romantic silence. you couldn’t even find it in you to look at him, otherwise you might’ve just professed your love for him. "you should rest."

dean's eyelids fall closed gently, "staying?"

by then you turn back to him, "i can."

"you should."

your lips turn upwards, as he peeked through one eye, waiting for a response. "i shall." and you felt a squeeze back in your hand.

-+-+-+-

and some days you do think to yourself, "god, is he ever going to tell me he loves me?" some days you wonder if this is all a big game, or test. but it occurs to you in moments like these, that it's exactly what he's doing. he just screamed "i love you" from the top of his lungs, and you heard it. it would mean nothing to a lot of people, but you understand, and it means the world and then some to you. and he got it right back. he understands, too.

-+-+-+-

tags: MOODBOARD BY @ash-muses , @chevroletdean & Supernatural Writer's Community

[hikakuriyyu]

hii, I was wondering if you could write about this: The Scream boys discover that the reader has a diary dedicated to pretty much everything about them.

I love your writing.

Scream men discover your diary about them (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: fluff, maybe suggestive ? female!reader. not proof read.

⁎ summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would react if they found out you loved them through your diary.

⁎ author note: hey long time no see ! sorry for being gone so long but i just didn't know what to write. but we have a request ! thank you anon <3 ! im working on another request on tension, and ill be posting more frequently. i might also start posting jjk fics.

Billy Loomis

Billy never meant to find it. He was just in your room, looking for your phone you asked him to give you, when the little book caught his attention. Your name was scrawled on the cover, and curiosity killed the cat. He figured he could read a few pages. Harmless, right ?

But then he saw his name. Over and over. Descriptions of his eyes, the way his voice made you blush, how you caught yourself staring at his lips when he spoke. How you wanted him but didn't know if he'd ever feel the same.

Billy's grip on the diary tightens. His heart is racing, but there's something different in his eyes now. Something softer, something deeper. A slow smirk froms at his lips as he shuts the book, fingers tracing over the cover.

By the time you walk in, he's sitting on your bed. Diary in hand, head tilted slightly. ''Didn’t know I had a fan.'' he murmurs, voice smooth but teasing.

Your stomach drops. ''Billy-'' but he cut you off before you could finish.

He stands, closing the distance between you, the diary still in his hand. ''You should've told me.'' his fingers brush under your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet his. ''Would've saved you all that writing.''

His smirk deepens as he leans into your ear, voice barely above a whisper. ''Now, why don't you show me how you feel ?''

Stu Macher

Stu wasn't even looking for anything. He was just messing around in your room, picking things up, putting them back in the wrong place. until he found the little book tucked away. He normally wouldn't care, but something about it screamed secrets, and well… he wasn't one to ignore a mystery.

Flipping through the pages, he expected dumb doodles or boring notes. What he didn't expect was his own name written over and over, surrounded by little hearts and messy confessions about how much you liked him. How his dumb jokes made your day, how you couldn't stop thinking about his smile, how you wished he’d see you the way you saw him.

His eyes widen, lips parting before stretching into a slow, mischievous grin. Oh, this was golden. When you finally walk in, he's sprawled across your bed, diary open in his hands. ''Awww baby, you got a crush on me ?'' he coos, kicking his legs playfully.

Your heart stops. ''Stu, what the hell ?''

He's up in a flash, closing the book and waving it in front of you. ''You should've told me !'' He grins, stepping closer, voice dipping just a little. ''I love being wanted, y'know.''

His arms wrap around you before you can snatch the diary away, pulling you against him with a dramatic sigh. ''Guess I gotta keep you now.'' he teases, his lips brushing your ear.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey didn't meant to find it. Really.

He was just looking for a pen when his fingers brushed against the little book tucked away in your drawer. Curiosity got the best of him. He wasn't the type to ignore something that screamed ''private.'' And when he saw his own name scrawled across the pages, paired with shy confessions and hopeless little daydreams ?

This was interesting.

By the time you walked in, he was leaning against your desk, flipping through the pages with an amused smirk. ''Well, well… this is adorable.''

You freeze. ''Mickey, put that down.'' you say in a worried tone.

He hums, tapping his fingers against the diary. ''Didn't take you for the hopeless romantic type.'' he muses, eyes dark with something unreadable. ''Crushing on me like this? Kinda cute.''

You lunge for it, but he's faster, raising it just out of reach. His free hand snakes around your waist, effortlessly pulling you closer. ''Should I read more ?'' he teases, tilting his head. “Or maybe…” His voice lowers, fingers brushing your cheek. ''You could just tell me all the things you wanna do with me. In detail.''

Your face burns, and Mickey chuckles, finally closing the book and handing it back. ''Relax, sweetheart.'' His lips ghost against your temple before he pulls away, flashing you a wicked grin. ''I was gonna make you mine anyway.''

Charlie Walker

Charlie didn't meant to snoop.

Okay… maybe a little.

He was just looking around while you were in the bathroom, skimming through your books, when something wedged between them caught his eye: your diary. He hesitated for two seconds before carefully pulling it out.

And then he saw his name. Page by bage surrounded by little hearts, and flustered ramblings about how much you liked him.

His breath hitched.

You walked back in just in time to see him staring at the open pages, his fingers trembling slightly. Your eyes widen. ''Charlie...!''

He immediately closed the diary, gripping it tightly in his hands like it was something precious. His face was red, his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but all he could do was look at you with wide, stunned eyes.

''I-I wasn't trying to snoop,'' he blurted out. ''I just-'' He swallowed hard, exhaling shakily. ''You like me...?''

The silence stretched between you. You were mortified, but Charlie… Charlie looked... overwhelmed ? Like he didn't know what to do with himself.

Then, suddenly, he let out a breathless, nervous laugh. ''God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that...''

Before you could respond, he surged forward, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, desperate hug. His face buried in your shoulder, and his voice was almost shaky as he whispered, ''Please tell me this isn't a dream.''

Ethan Landry

Ethan wasn't snooping.

He was just sitting on your bed, waiting for you to grab something from the kitchen when he noticed your diary sitting there, slightly open. His curiosity got the best of him, so he peeked. Just a little.

And then he saw his name.

His heart stopped. Then it started beating again. Twice as fast.

Flustered, he yanked his hands away like the pages had burned him, his face heating up so fast he thought he might explode.

That was his name... with hearts around it. Did you really write about him like that ? About how cute you thought he was ? About how much you wanted him to notice you more ?

Ethan felt like his brain short-circuited. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, like he couldn't decide whether to close the diary or keep reading.

Then the door opened.

He jumped about a foot in the air, nearly knocking the diary off the bed. You frowned, glancing at his face. Completely red, ears tinted pink, lips parted like he'd just run a marathon.

''…Ethan ? What's wrong ?''

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then, in the smallest, most flustered voice imaginable, he mumbled, ''So... uh… y-you like me ?''

You frown. Your eyes darted to your diary, realization hitting like a truck.

Ethan fidgeted, hands nervously gripping his hoodie sleeves, staring at you like he was terrified but also hopeful.

And then, when you didn't say anything fast enough, he let out a tiny, breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

''So that's why you 'accidentally' came in my room while i was changing...''

[bithcisweartogod]

it’s not that cheng xiaoshi doesn’t trust lu guang. he does, probably more than anyone. him and qiao ling are the closest people he has. hell, he willingly trusts lu guang with his life on a daily, blindly allowing the guy to lead him in every dive, never once doubting that with lu guang in charge everything will be fine. 

yet sometimes he can’t help but wish he would tell him more. not that cheng xiaoshi feels like he’s hiding something. he just wants to know more about lu guang. cheng xiaoshi himself has never been a particularly secretive person. he likes to share bits and pieces of himself with others, but only those that hover on the surface, not allowing too deep of a look into his mind. sure, he also doesn’t tell people everything. why would he? but lu guang barely shares anything at all.

those little crumbles of him that cheng xiaoshi managed to gather over the years either came as a result of pure observation or accidents. sometimes, if cheng xiaoshi asked, lu guang would tell him about the books he reads, or show him movies he likes, share songs he listens to. but that’s about it. cheng xiaoshi’s grateful for what he can get, but is it so wrong to want to know more about your partner? 

and yeah, maybe lu guang’s lack of desire to share stuff about himself comes from the fact that cheng xiaoshi can and will tease him about it but come on. that’s what friends are for! something, he has to share something! like, childhood memories, for instance. it doesn’t even have to be something deep or anything, cheng xiaoshi doesn’t expect lu guang to get into the heavy stuff like he’s in a therapy session. something light and funny though, maybe a little silly, that should be fine, right? everyone has these kind of stories! yet whenever cheng xiaoshi and qiao ling dive into this topic lu guang just observes them quietly, all small smiles and stifled laughter. 

qiao ling brought an old photo album one day. she found it during a major cleaning up session at her parents’ house. despite being her family’s photo album, it had lots of pictures of cheng xiaoshi, so she knew she had to bring it to the photo studio.

and there they were, the three of them seated on the sofa, looking through the photos. the pictures were really wholesome. little qiao ling holding little cheng xiaoshi’s hand at an amusement park, both of them smiling widely. she cooed at the image, and then, in the same sweet voice as before, she said: “remember how you threw up after that one ride that we told you not to take?”, leaving cheng xiaoshi frozen and lu guang laughing up his sleeve.

so that’s how it went. whenever cheng xiaoshi appeared in a photo qiao ling would add some details about its backstory, making embarrassing ones even more so. like, here’s a picture of cheng xiaoshi with mustache drawn on his face in black marker. he’s showing off, posing like a character from a movie.

“a few seconds after that he showed us the marker he draw those with and mom told him it’s permanent” qiao ling deadpans.

“and i took it very well” boasts cheng xiaoshi, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you cried like a baby” 

“did not” 

“i think you did”, intervenes lu guang, who had already turned the page, discovering a follow-up photo, that, although smudgy, showed a wailing cheng xiaoshi. so no, he did not, in fact, take it well. cheng xiaoshi’s ears turned red.

“you took a picture? i was standing there crying and you just took a picture?” he exclaims.

“sorry, sorry” says qiao ling, laughing. “it was too funny”.

cheng xiaoshi, of course, saw that as a challenge. he flipped through the pages of the photo album and then stopped, smiling in that manner of his that meant he’s up to no good. 

“look who we have here” he said melodically.

qiao ling scoffed. 

“it can’t be that bad, let me see— oh god”.

the picture showed little qiao ling, up close, definitely an attempt of hers to take a selfie on her parents’ camera. but the angle wasn’t the worst part. the makeup. what was going on. bright splotches of blue eyeshadow covered her eyes, her eyebrows looked like she got inspired by cheng xiaoshi’s mustache and drew them with a sharpie, her lips were over-lined with pink lipstick, and, as a cherry on top, glitter. it was everywhere. but little qiao ling seemed proud of herself, while the current one looked like she was holding back tears. she’ll definitely ask who and why decided that it would be a good idea to put this picture in the album when she comes home. 

meanwhile, cheng xiaoshi was laughing uncontrollably, less from looking at the photo and more from seeing qiao ling’s reaction. lu guang was covering his mouth, trying to hide a smile. 

“don’t worry, qiao ling-jie, your skills definitely improved” he tried to placate her. 

“i sure hope they did!” screamed distressed qiao ling, looking as flabbergasted as she was before.

she turned the page to try and change the subject. suddenly, a blurred something caught cheng xiaoshi’s attention. 

“what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the photo. 

and now it was qiao ling’s turn to laugh. 

“idiot, that’s your butt!” 

cheng xiaoshi looked at her, bewildered, then back at the photo and then the recognition finally sank in. 

“what the hell is it doing in your family’s photo album?” he tried to snatch the album away but qiao ling grabbed it first, quickly passing it to lu guang. with the way his palm covered his mouth it was hard to tell whether he’s laughing or genuinely concerned. 

“why— who even decided to develop it?” cheng xiaoshi looked over lu guang’s shoulder, not trying to hide the photo anymore now that he’s already seen it. instead, he buried his face into the fabric of lu guang’s shirt, mortified. 

“actually, you did” answers qiao ling, smiling from ear to ear. 

“what?!” 

“yeah! you were the one who brought it to us! you thought that the scar you got was super cool, so you decided to take a picture of it, and then asked aunt shao to develop it. and she did”. 

memories were coming back to cheng xiaoshi, the way his mom laughed and immediately agreed to his request. she sure had an interesting sense of humor. he looked at the photo again, more intently this time. 

“but you gotta admit…it does look cool. like a lightning…”

“wanna put it in a frame?” lu guang suggested, earning a loud snicker from qiao ling and a death glare from cheng xiaoshi.

they bickered over the photos, competing in who can make the other more embarrassed, but despite all the noise they made over this album, it felt good to revisit those memories. to look back on their past and laugh. to share it with lu guang. 

later that day, when cheng xiaoshi and lu guang were already in their beds, slowly dozing off, cheng xiaoshi decided to ask something. 

“lu guang? you asleep?” 

after a short period of time a muffled answer comes out 

“no”

a beat. cheng xiaoshi hesitates. 

“it’s just…you never showed us any pictures from when you were a kid. or any pictures of your parents” or any pictures at all. for some reason he felt unsure. like he’s stepping into a territory not yet open for him. “i wouldn’t be too surprised to find out you were born an adult” a quiet laugh. an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. 

“i can just see you saying ‘thank you for carrying me all those nine months, mother’ and bowing to the doctors” he blabbers, trying to continue the joke, which earns a low stifled laugh from lu guang. 

“you’re ridiculous” he says, and cheng xiaoshi can hear him smiling. warmth spreads in his chest. after remaining silent for some time, lu guang speaks again.

“it’s nothing special, really. my parents just never liked to take photos. i don’t have anything to show, that’s it” 

it made cheng xiaoshi sad, the fact that he’d never get to see lu guang little. was his hair always white? was his attitude always so quiet and stoic? did he ever do any of the embarrassing things he and qiao ling were up to when they were kids? 

“you’re disappointed?” lu guang asks suddenly. damn, he’s uncannily good at reading his mind.

“don’t be silly” comes out cheng xiaoshi’s immediate response. then, turning to the side, he ads, “i have you here now. that’s all that matters”.

and that’s true. whatever past lu guang had, whatever things he’s purposefully hiding away from him…he’s here, with cheng xiaoshi. and, as lu guang himself said, he’s not going anywhere.

next day qiao ling comes into the photo studio again. in her hands there’s…a book? she places it on the counter, smiling happily. a book turns out to be a photo album. a brand new one, all pages empty, waiting to be filled. 

“it just hit me suddenly, after i left yesterday. it’s so stupid. we don’t have a photo album of our own! at the photo studio! absurd”.

and just like that, they started piling up a history of their own, capturing time in the pages of the album. a picture of lu guang on the sofa, fallen asleep in the middle of reading a book. sunlight dances on his skin. he scrunches his nose in his sleep. a picture of qiao ling pulling cheng xiaoshi into a hug. he tries to look annoyed but his smile betrays him. cheng xiaoshi with a braid. it looks a little messed up since his hair’s not long enough, but pretty nonetheless. lu guang patting a stray cat near the photo studio. qiao ling and xu shanshan hitting cheng xiaoshi with pillows. qiao ling smiling brightly as cheng xiaoshi scrubs the floor behind her. he lost a bet and was supposed to clean up for a month. lu guang eventually agreed to help him (he always does) and ended up taking the majority of cheng xiaoshi’s cleaning duties upon himself. lu guang with a pissed off expression, huge coffee spot on his shirt. he accidentally spilled it and cheng xiaoshi had to capture the moment as evidence that lu guang does in fact fuck up sometimes. lu guang smiling. lu guang posing with an awkward peace sign. lots of lu guang, actually. because cheng xiaoshi, unlike lu guang’s parents, likes taking photos. especially photos of lu guang. 

it’s not that cheng xiaoshi doesn’t trust lu guang. he does, probably more than anyone. so he knows that lu guang would tell him more when he’s ready. there’s no rush. he likes it even more like that - getting to know him, gradually, bit by bit. 

[maverices]

post-TG AU, in which Mav gets re-assigned to another squadron after his own is dissolved, and is greeted by a familiar face. set a couple of years after the movie. (wordcount: ~1k)

---

„Commander Kazansky, I believe you know Lieutenant Commander Mitchell? He’s been assigned to fill the spot in your squadron.“

Wait, what?

„Yes, thank you, Captain.“ If Iceman is surprised to see him, he doesn’t let it show on his face. Maverick isn’t too sure what his own is doing, in part because he has no idea what he’s feeling.

„Maverick.“

He controls his face, takes the offered hand and squeezes it, briefly.

„Iceman.“

The captain glances between them, looking for god-knows-what, and then nods. „I’ll leave you to it.“

They both stand to attention until he’s left the room.

„So,“ Mav drawls, turning to face Ice, „who am I replacing?“

„Me.“

„What?“

„Our CO was injured and had to take an extended medical leave. The position has been filled, but we’re still a pilot short.“

„And by the position being filled you mean…“

„I am the commanding officer of the VFA-25.“

„So you’re like, a Commander-commander now.“ Ice’s blank expression is definitely straining now, and Maverick really needs to move on from this.

„Is this going to be a problem? I can ask for you to be re-assigned, if that’s what you want.“

„And leave me with yet another mark on my record? No, thank you.“

„There are ways to do this that wouldn’t reflect badly on either of us.“

„I’ll manage. Sir.“

Ice doesn’t bare his teeth at him the way he used to, but Mav is still intimately familiar with the way frustration looks on his face.

„Look, Mav. I didn’t request for you to be here, but I am glad that you are. I would love to fly with you again, and that’s why I need to know that we’re on the same page here.“

„And what page would that be?“

„You are my friend, Mav, and my wingman. I trust you, with my life.“ He draws a deep breath, clenching his fist around the backrest of his chair, a concession to his emotions Mav has never seen him make. (Only heard, guessed at, in an empty locker room back at Miramar.) „But as of today, you are also my direct subordinate. I need you to separate Ice, your friend, from Commander Kazansky, your CO.“

„You give this speech to everyone in your squadron?“

„No?“

„So you trust them to keep things professional, but not me? Jesus Christ, Ice, I’ve been in the Navy as long as you. I clawed my way up from the Reserve to become one of the best aviators the Navy has, and I can guarantee you, while my sheer talent and my irrestible charm has opened me a lot of doors, they would have closed just as quickly if I didn’t learn the importance of keeping my mouth shut, occasionally. I know how this works.“

Under any other circumstances, Mav would tease the hell out of Ice for his stunned expression. In contrast to his usual aloof arrogance, he’s doing the Iceman-equivalent of staring at Mav with his jaw on the floor.

Ice rubs a hand over his face, and sinks into his chair.

„I know,“ he mumbles. „I know that. I didn’t mean to come at you like this, it’s just-- it’s not you, it’s me.“

Ice grimaces the second he says it, and Mav starts laughing despite the tension in the air.

„Real original, Kazansky. Got any more where that came from, or are you going to tell me what’s really going on here?“

Ice hesitates, so Mav adds with a conspiratioral smirk, „Y’know, just as a friend telling a friend his troubles.“

„Did you know I’m the second-youngest officer in the squadron? Third-youngest, now that you’re here. I’ve only served as XO for three months. Commander Rowles was training me up to replace him, eventually, but that was not going to be for another few years.“

„You think you’re not qualified for the job?“

„What? No, of course I’m qualified.“

Mav can’t help the snort that escapes him, and immediately shrinks under Ice’s glare.

„You disgreeing, Mitchell?“

„No, no, not at all, it’s just-- I forgot how fucking arrogant you can be.“

„It’s not arrogance if--

„If you’ve got the skill to back it up, yes, I’m aware, it’s basically my life motto. So if you’re qualified, and you presumably want the job, what’s got your panties in a twist? Not to inflate your ego even more than it already is, but you’re a natural leader. Most of our class fell in line behind you after day one, and let me tell you, that’s not how it usually works.“

At least that’s what Viper told him when after the first week of training the class had been clearly split into three groups who were constantly antagonizing each other. Apparently, theirs was the only group in years that hadn’t needed any more than the initial speech about teamwork to cooperate in any combination. Well, almost any combination.

„Except for you.“

„Except for me, but I respected you, even if your by-the-book flying annoyed the hell out of me. Honestly never thought it possible to be as good as you are without stretching the rules a little.“

„And yet, orthodox flying wouldn’t have gotten me or anyone else out of a confrontation with five MiGs alive.“

Mav blinks, once. „Careful, Kazansky, that almost sounded like a concession to my superior skills.“

„Imagination has always been your greatest strength.“

Tone, lock, hit. Mav cracks up, bending over from the force of his laughter, before collapsing into the visitor’s chair. Ice’s face is doing something strange, caught half-way between amusement and something far, far softer that Maverick carefully catalogues, but doesn’t point out.

„You’re still dodging my question. You’re qualified, you’re a good leader, if a little young. So what?“

Ice sighs. „I need them to respect me. Not just as a fellow aviator, but as their CO.“

Mav frowns. „Do they not? I’m sure your CO wouldn’t have picked you as a XO if they didn’t.“

„They do.“

„So, what? Come on, Ice, just spit it out.“

„How can I demand respect and subordination from aviators older and more experienced than me, if I can’t earn it from my peers and juniors?“

„Oh.“

„Yes.“

„To be entirely clear, am I your peer or your junior in this scenario?“

„Maverick.“

„Because depending on the answer I might take you up on that re-assignment offer.“

„Mav.“

„I’m kidding. What do you need from me?“

„I need you to pay me the same respect you would any other commanding officer.“

„Done. Although I’d like to point out that I’m not exactly known for my polite and respectful conduct.“

Ice pinches the bridge of his nose. Mav is getting more expressions out of him in this conversation than he’d seen in the weeks they spent getting on each other’s nerves at Miramar.

„I’m aware. That’s why we’re having this conversation in the first place. Just-- I don’t know, reign it in a little? At least for the first few weeks, especially around the rookie. I don’t want him to get any wrong impressions about me.“

„What, that you’re not just ‚ice-cold, no mistakes‘?“

„Ideally, yes.“

„Why?“ Mav wishes he could take the question back the second it’s out of his mouth. He’ll need to work on his impulse control, if he doesn’t want Ice to kick him off the squad within 48 hours.

Ice looks just as taken aback, so Mav starts back-pedalling.

„Nevermind. Forget I asked.“ There could be any number of reasons for Ice being the way he is, and none of them are Mav’s business.

He rises out of his chair and salutes. „Commander.“

Thankfully, Ice gets the message, and stands up.

„My XO is expecting you in the mess hall. He will show you around, introduce you to the squad, and answer any additional questions. Report in for the briefing on your first hop at 0700 tomorrow.“

„Yes, sir.“

„I look forward to flying with you, Commander. Dismissed.“

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ IRRESISTIBLE ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 심재윤 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: distracted by the charm of your darling boyfriend, you find yourself unable to resist his need for attention, but in all seriousness, who’d be able to resist jake?

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!jake x non-idol!reader, est. relationship, ft. mentions of huh yunjin and layla

warnings: attempts at humour, swearing/cursing, pet names, slightly suggestive bcs jake’s a simp and doesn’t bother hiding it, mentioned the book ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ . ya know, in case you don’t like that book ..

[archive]

“Stop.”

His giggles were glittery. Just hearing them would set off a flutter in your chest. “What? I’m just appreciating nature and its beauty.” You could practically hear the smile from his voice.

It took a lot of strength to not look up, to keep your gaze firmly situation on the letters that ran along the page in front of you. Your fingers tightened around the soft copy covers of the novel in your hands, thumb rubbing against the paper as you tried to read the next sentence.

It was an impossible task, you quickly realised, your senses distracted by the ticklish sensation of grass against your ankles. The culprit, however, wasn’t the innocent grass field of the park, but actually your attention whore of a boyfriend, laying on his stomach by your feet, drawing little invisible doodles on your bare calf with the tip of the grass blade.

more under cut !!

You knew what he was doing, the unsubtly in the teasing glances that he’d sneak your way, observing your reaction, seeing how long it would take for you to break. It was one of his more annoying qualities that you couldn’t help but find endearing… eventually.

At that moment though, you resolved to simply tap your finger against the corner of the book, your eyes unfocused, not a single word on the page registering as you pursed your lips, squashing whatever tiny smile wanted to make itself known. You were gonna last this time.

See, previous times it had happened — and yes, it happened a lot — Jake would usually win. Whether it was his inconspicuous back hugs which eventually had him pulling you away from whatever you were doing previously, or the more blatantly obvious way he’d smile, quirk his head to the side, and pull you along with him.

Jake was simply irresistible. And he knew it, which is always a problem.

That afternoon, however, you‘d decided the best way to defeat him, is to divert him, distract him, and so you set your plan into motion;

“Jakey, what does this word mean?”

“Hm?”

Immediately the grass blade was abandoned, the pursuit to tease was thrown aside and your puppy dog of a boyfriend had pulled himself up and shuffled closer, leaning his back against the large tree trunk, just like you.

He pouted his lips, following your finger as you pointed out the word. “Iota? I thought you were reading a romance book…”

You scoffed, “I am.” Slipping your bookmark into the spine you closed the book to show him the cover. ‘To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before’ was printed in pretty ribbon-like loops of text, glossy and black against the light baby pink background.

Jake smirked, opening the book once more to read out the sentence before he started explaining the origins of ‘iota’ (ancient greek text), and the significance of that letter (it’s the smallest in the alphabet), and how it applies in a modern context (“Basically, babe, it means you couldn’t give less of a fuck”).

You bit your lip, suppressing your laughter as you carefully pulled out your bookmark and continued reading. Your head rested against Jake‘s shoulder, his voice slowly helping you relax as he continued to explain random yet somewhat applicable definitions to the word ‘iota’.

You couldn’t really understand, mostly because you were only paying like 40% of your attention on what he was saying. Zoning in and out every now and then, catching a few anecdotes about his senior year maths class and imaginary numbers, whatever those mean.

Just as you reached the next chapter, you felt Jake tap your forehead. “Are you sleeping?”

“What? No!” You shuffled back a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jake’s eyes darted down to the novel in your hands, noticing the next chapters number on the page. “You’re reading? I thought you were listening to me,” he whined, an embarrassed little smile on his lips.

You shut the book in an instant, completely forgetting about your bookmark. “I am!” You insisted, choosing to summaries his explanation as proof. “You said it was ancient greek alphabet, the smallest of them all, means I couldn’t give less of a flying fu—”

“Fine, what was the last thing I said?”

You stilled, “Uh…” Mind going blank, you figured a blind shot in the dark wouldn’t hurt, safest option, honestly. “…That I’m the love of your life?”

Jake‘s expression fell flat. “No, I didn’t—”

“I’m not the love of your life?!”

“That’s not what I— …Well played.” Quirking his lip a little, Jake sighed, holding out his fist as a peace offering.

“Thank you.” Smirking, you fist bumped him, before looking back down to open your book. But you paused, eyes glancing back to your unused bookmark. You flicked your head towards Jake, “I don’t—”

“Chapter twenty,” he said smoothly, before turning around and using your fumbling to rest his head on your lap.

“Enjoy the flattering angle,” you mutter, dryly.

Jake stayed silent, his gaze fixated on you, on the way your hair fell in front of your eyes and you constantly brushed it away and yet refused to pin it back. Or the way you very, very softly mouthed the words you were reading, ever so faintly, it’s barely a whisper. Or how you’d smile at the stories events before quickly controlling your expression so you don’t look like a fool, grinning at a book.

Jake sighed, brushing his hair back. “I guess the story’s interesting?”

You hummed. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He sat up. “Then pay attention to me.”

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, before settling back against the tree. “I would, baby, but I need to beat Yunjin at this month’s goodreads challenge. And I would have beaten her last week but—”

“But I dragged you to the couch for movie night—”

“Which I loved. Among other things that night.” You suppressed your smile.

Nudging your knee with his, Jake let out a breathy chuckle. “Shh, there’s kids running around”

You shook your head, amused. “What I’m saying is, I love spending time with you. So much so that I want you around even if I’m just doing something by myself. But you make it so damn hard for me to concentrate.”

Your eyes had completely left the page yet again, finding your focus purely captured by the comfort that Jake gave you whenever he was present, the kind of relaxation where you simply get to exist, side by side, and that’s enough. It truly was his fault that you were this distracted.

Though, he obviously didn’t think so.

“That’s on you,” his eyes shone with that cheeky charm that he seemed to never run out of. His fingers rested on your knee, tapping away as he spoke. “I can’t exactly just stay put like some loser when I have the most irresistible person for a girlfriend.”

You scoffed, “I thought you were the irresistible one.”

Your mind replayed memories of past instances where Jake would send you a smug grin, throwing his arms wide open, surmising that he was simply irresistible and you should just give in (translation: he just wants hugs).

Jake shrugged. “Well, I am. But it’s not like I’ve got monopoly over it.”

“Mhm.”

He watched as you, yet again, tried to concentrate on the novel at hand, to get some progress in your reading. But your competitiveness was faltering and he could see it.

On the one hand, he wanted you to win, for your own happiness.

On the other hand… “C’mere.”

“Hm?”

Jake leaned closer, cupping your jaw as he went in to kiss you. You knew there was no hope of finishing another chapter anymore. Let alone the book. Jake had this way of capturing your entire soul, of holding it in his warm hands, keeping it safe. The same way it felt to have his hands holding your face, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, his tiny giggles unable to be contained between your kisses.

“You’re a jerk,” you whisper, smiling so wide that the implication of such a sentence made no sense in comparison.

“Right,” Jake leaned forward and gave you a quick peck. “But you know, if you’d really wanted to read today, you wouldn’t have brought me along.”

You nudged your forehead against his. “Fair point.”

The novel slid from hands, flat on your lap as you moved your fingers along nape of his neck. You’d just started pulling him closer by his chain necklace when—

“Hey mister!”

Jake flinched and looked to the side at the tiny irritated mass in light up sketchers standing a meter away.

“Your dog has my ball!”

“Oh shit…” You shifted back as you watched your boyfriend scramble to get up, cursing his clicking joints as he ran. “Layla!!”

“Guess you win this month, Yunjinnie.” Hurriedly putting the book back in your bag, you got up and ran after Jake.

a.n: third instalment of the kiss me, don’t say no series !! even if it’s officially feb 9th i’m holding off until i get up again in the actual morning to publish jungwon’s — skipping sunsun for now! sorry :( i just really wanna get jungwon’s out on his birthday !!!! anyway, i hope you liked this one <3

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf

2025 © yourislandgirl

[hotchnersangel]

OUR PAST, PRESENT AND FOREVER

Aaron Hotchner

cw: fem!reader, wedding, crying, emotional hotch.

a/n- this one is super cute, surprise at the end but you can pretend it isn’t there if you don’t like it.

Meeting Aaron Hotchner for the very first time was like breathing fresh country air after being stuck in the city for your whole life. Though your life was arguably more chaotic after knowing him, you never doubted any part of your relationship, neither the good or the bad. You had disagreements but Aaron has never shouted at you and he never will, nor have you at him. Around each other maybe you have, but never to each other. Maybe that’s because of his understanding of your past but also due to the immense respect and love he will always have for you. He never wants to be the reason you cry. Yet, today he was the exact reason you were crying.

Your wedding day, a day you have been dreaming about since you were a little girl. You always wanted the traditional wedding dress, the big but intimate ceremony, the hundreds of thousands of flowers, the awkward and laughable dancing. You wanted and dreamt about it all.

When you met Aaron, you knew you wanted these dreams by his side. You wanted them to turn from your dreams to your shared memories, which is exactly what the day had been.

The ceremony had been indescribable, the feeling of walking down the aisle and Rossi handing you to your soon- to-be husband was overwhelming in the best way. Though, the moment those doors opened, Aaron took one glance at you and your emotions flood from your eyes and you didn’t bother wiping them, just let them fall. His smile was like no one but you had ever witnessed. Full of utter love and affection. Your vows illicited more tears from you, but Aaron was yet to cry. Close, very close he had come, but he had not shown a droplet until you stand up during the after party.

Everyone was sat round their tables and you go to make your speech following the maid of honour and groomsmen’s talks.

“If I could have your attention for a moment,” you say, everyone now looking over you, whose hand was still entwined with Aaron. “Since before Aaron and I were together, I made something hoping this day would one day come and I could finally be able to show him.” You start with a bright smile, looking down at him softly as everyone waits in anticipation.

“So here it is, the day we officially become one, this is my present to you honey.” You smile and wipe your eyes from the falling tears. “This is The Story of The Hotchner’s”

You look at Aaron who watches you place the scrapbook in front of him and he gets teary eyed, his lip wobbling as he looks up at you. He knew he chose the right one. His thoughtful, breathtaking, ethereal piece of art. His wife. The love of his life.

He stands up and pulls you into him, holding you in the tightest embrace you thought you were going to be squished. “Baby, oh my god.” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I haven’t even gone through it yet.” You grin, kissing his cheek and wiping a stray tear from his eye before continuing through the book.

‘To my beloved husband, let’s us never forget our past, our present or our forever.’ Was inscribed into the first page, you’re sat down now, watching as Aaron flips to the first page.

It showed an image of you awkwardly standing behind Hotch from around three months into working at the bau, pointing at his back which was firmly behind you as you pulled a funny face to the camera. It was taken by Penelope, you remember it so vividly, she had been the one to take a lot of these photos, along with JJ. Stuck closely on that page is another image of the same few months where he was staring at you with a straight face but you were grinning at him.

Aaron looked up at you and raises an eyebrow. “Did I always look so miserable around you?” He chuckles softly.

“You did, but I knew you never disliked me. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, I always knew.” You grin back at him and he kisses your nose. “Now carry on.”

The next page brought a photo of Aaron slightly smirking at something you said but trying to conceal it behind his mug, it was a perfect candid photo. The next was an image of you two conversing on the first press conference with the two of you. Professional and hot.

The memories continued as you slowly see a change in the dynamic of your relationship, at first it’s like you’re both there but just simply there, then you see how Aaron opens up to you slowly and starts to lose his cold front with you. Over time it’s obvious that the distance between the two of you disappears and your smiles grow ten times larger. Then, it gets to recent photos and you stop him before he can flip the page again.

“There is so much space to add more photos of our journey together but I thought today was the perfect day to share this with you.” You grin at him, fully beaming as tears kiss your cheeks. As you look at Aaron, he pulls you to sit on his lap and he looks directly at you. You notice that tears were streaming out of his glassy eyes with very little shame. You laugh at the sight and it makes the emotions bubble more in your chest and he pulls you closer to him by your waist, hugging you so tightly. He kisses your head.

“I’m so beyond in love with you. Thank you. Thank you for having the most thoughtful, generous, beautiful soul both inside and out.” He says letting tears stream down as he doesn’t bother wiping them. Not even considering hiding or getting rid of the evidence of his complete and utter devotion and appreciation of you.

“There’s one more page.” You whisper to him and he looks back at the book, you both flip the page together and it reveals a photo of a baby scan. He freezes from under you and looks at the photo, bringing the book closer to him and looking back to you. Switching his gaze between the photo and you like a tennis rally.

“Is this…”

You nod and laugh, tears falling from your eyes as he pulls you into the biggest hug ever, his hand at the back of your head as it against his chest.

“Our family.”