#luckily my friend is driving it to the other dorm

[girlblocker]

they should make fridges that are possible to move

[enhard]

choi beomgyu — “fallen leaves”

pairing: c.bg x fem!reader

: just a cozy day at the library, hanging out with your friend… suddenly it all escalating into something more intimate.

cw: SMUT, public sex, blowjob, m!receiving, masturbation, choking, face fucking, cum swallowing, a sprinkle of degrading also kinda getting caught during ittt ok bai

not proofread, enjoy! (MDNI)

getting into your dream college was obviously amazing, but you were super stressed about your upcoming exams, and having to study every single day was only caking up your cortisol.

luckily your best friend from campus, also your roommate, was always there to calm you down during those moments of stress. he either comforted you with your favourite snacks or had silly karaoke nights just to make you forget about lectures from time to time.

“c’mon gyu… let me read my notes again..”

“alright alright.. but one more song?”

well, this day was no different.

you have an important exam in two days and it is all you can think about. it’s quite literally eating at your brain.

“hey… can you.. drive me to the library.. i need to look through some things.”

“okay but, sure you don’t want a drink first?”

“i guess. if you want to. thank you dude. you’re the best” you smile.

beomgyu nods his head, walking to his closet to look through his clothes. the weather is just the perfect autumn. the leaves are coloured in such beautiful colours, and the weather is not too cold but not too hot.

he chooses what to wear, and finally you both get ready for this small outing. you leave the dorm, getting to your local café, ready to enjoy some freshly steeped coffee.

you insist on paying for yourself but he pulls out his card first.. so you sit down in defeat.

you sit a bit at the table, looking at each other face to face just chatting.. until you decide it’s time to get going.

you both grab the paper coffee cups to take with you to the library. it isn’t that far from the café, so you just go by foot.

once you get to the library, you instantly start looking around the mountains of bookshelves for the books you need, while beomgyu is sipping on his coffee giggling at your determination.

“you’re doing okay over there?” he asks.

“yes ugh i think i found it.. not sure though..” you say, already high up on the ladder.

inherently, you find everything you need, and you both sit down at one of the tables at a more reserved place in that big library, you didn’t want anyone disturbing your learning and beomgyu didn’t want anyone disturbing him from admiring you.

you sit down first, with your books in hand while he chooses to sit right next to you, quite close to you actually.

the sides of your thighs are touching but.. this was quite normal for you two already.

you start taking down notes, breaking up sentences to make them easier for reading while beomgyu scrolled on his phone the whole time.

after you were done with your notes, he sat upright to hear everything you noted down.. but while he did, he placed a hand on your thigh.

not that he didn’t mean to, he actually couldn’t say that he didn’t want to do that for the longest time now..

it’s just that he thought that you wouldn’t like it. but oh how you did.

he wanted to swat his hand away but you quickly placed your hand over his keeping it there. his eyes got bigger and his face got so red like never before.

“gyu.. i .. i like that.”

he smiles in satisfaction.

“oh really? you do? what about this then..”

then he slides his hand even further down your thigh, squeezing your inner thigh tighter and tighter.

“give me more.. please” you plead quietly.

he licks his lips, moving his hand to your crotch, dragging his hand up and down lazily. you grab onto his wrist, making him keep his hand there while you slowly grind yourself on his fingers. he slowly leans in to kiss your neck, leaving pecks here and there.

“you really wanna do this?” he whispers, his voice lower than usual. you slightly nod, knowing exactly how you were going to end this in a bit.

he couldn’t help but get needy seeing you so riled up like that, his erection coming without him barely noticing.. but you definitely noticed.

you smile, seeing that dent in his pants. that’s why you stop and take his hand away, slowly sneaking under the table to be able to suck him off.

this took him off guard but he couldn’t complain less. he had this bulge to take care of before you left and.. it was either this or he took care of it in the bathroom.

he slightly smiles at you under the table, and you grab his pants to pull his zipper down.

his zipper slides down with a bit of pressure, the sound slightly echoing through the quiet room.

you pull his boxers down just enough to take his cock out, leaving his pants on just in case.

you give him a few strokes, making eye contact with him just to signal him to keep quiet through this whole thing. then, being impatient, you finally let your lips have contact with his tip.

without moving down, you start by licking and sucking on his tip, getting to know how much he loves it by the struggle sounds he makes to not raise suspicions.

he starts whining quietly when you begin abusing his tip, kissing on the most sensitive parts. he slowly moves his hand down to move your hair out of your face a bit.

“hold..on.. what are..” but he can’t even finish his sentence. he just lets you continue pleasing him the best you can.

after getting enough of his tip, you decide to take him in slowly trying not to choke too loud. you bop your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks to give him the best head he’s ever got. you begin shuffling sounds out as he’s just watching you, and you think to tease him a bit.

you pull away, looking into his eyes again. “read my notes.” you say with a grin on your face while stroking him with your hand gently.

“what..? what do you mean?” he furrows his eyebrows. “you know exactly what i mean. let me hear you read the words out loud.” then you just get back to shoving him in your mouth. he releases the grasp on your hair to ruffle through the notes on the table, his hands shaking and all.

he begins to read the notes you wrote down, with somewhat high difficulty since his vision got blurrier than it was. his words flow smoothly until you start using your tongue on him again, licking at his tip and working your way down his whole length.

his keeps stopping in his sentences to leave out breaths and.. whenever he messes up you pull away for a few seconds. he whines again and again to make you keep going, but as long as he doesn’t say the words perfectly, you’re not stopping this torture.

“..fuck you’re such a whore.. just keep going ‘kay?” he whispers.

you leave out a thoughtful “mmm”, not knowing what to do with him after that. but you decide to do exactly what you want, and that being teasing him until he gives out.

you pull away again, fisting his cock as fast as you can. “read the notes faster, i don’t have all day hm?” you tease. he groans and just takes those papers in hand to try concentrating. you have him wrapped around your finger now and there’s nothing he can do.

as he’s continuing to read those notes, he really tries to do better this time… and you figure it’s a good idea to give his thighs a bit of love too. as you’re stroking him, you move your mouth down to pull a bit of that jean fabric down with your teeth, just to give them a few kisses here and there, moving down to his balls to leave small kisses everywhere.

you’re aware that someone might walk in right now but the adrenaline of those chances just make you want to continue, even more seeing him like this, you want to feel pleased too.

you slide one hand inside your pants, doing your best to circle your clit in this moment. you start slightly moaning around his balls, beomgyu knowing exactly what you’ve starting doing.

“such a slut for me… keep imagining those fingers are mine love.” he says, making you squeeze your thighs together almost squirming under him.

you start sucking him off again while shoving a finger inside you, wishing it was him instead. you knew all too well how this will escalate after you got out of there so you didn’t even have to worry. he succeeded in getting you so wet, if only he knew then.

you pull your hand away, resting it on his knee instead. you were gonna get your pleasure anyway.. one way or another.. and you knew he would totally be into it.

in between struggled words, he starts swearing and pleading to you, trying to make you slow down a bit.. to let him last longer. but you wanted to see him cum now, and you were going to let that happen.

he’s getting really close, especially with the pace you suddenly picked up.. but it somehow wasn’t enough for him. so instead of holding those papers in hand, he slid both his hand under the table to hold your head in place, while fucking your face to the pace he desired.

he doesn’t know what got into him but the noises you let out right then were inhumane. you begin choking again with your spit dripping down your chin, but you love how much he’s enjoying it.

he leaves out full blown moans in this quiet library not caring anymore if someone catches you. “im gonna.. ohh fuckfuckfuck” he freaks out. you let out a hum to let him cum inside and oh how he does. he cum in your throat, not even giving you the option to spit it out, not that you would anyway, pulling your head away to let you breathe. his cock twitching up a few times from what it just endured, but he swore from then on that it was the best experience of his life. you sit back up next to him, giving him a small peck for behaving so well through this.

“i didn’t know you were so into head pushing..” you laugh. “…sorry, i don’t know what got into me really..” he pouts.

“don’t worry, that was fucking hot.”

his breathing irregular and his forehead sweaty, he smiles at you showing you how satisfied he was.. but quickly his smile wipes off his face when he realises once again that you’re both in a public place. he even notices the convenient open door to the other part of the library that was packed with students from your college..

it’s safe to say that you never went to that library again.

[confused-pyramid]

Tell Me Some Things Last | s3

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 23.1k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 3x01, 3x02, 3x03, 3x06, 3x08, 3x09, 3x14, 3x16, 3x17, 3x19, and 3x20

a/n: season 3! The slow burn continues:) This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it! (and I promise the chapters won't keep getting longer, this one just got out of hand LMAO) Title is from Heal by Tom Odell

series masterlist

"Excuse me?"

Section Chief Strauss doesn't falter. "You can't expect me to believe you think Agent Hotchner has done an effective job leading this unit."

"You can't expect me to believe that you think I'd willing spy on my unit chief for you."

She sighs and you want to throttle her. "Agent L/N, I know you two share a history, but this is bigger than that. People have died on his watch."

You have been trying to remain neutral since you were called into her office, but every word that comes out of her mouth makes you see red. Yes, this past year has been tough, but none of it was in his control.

"I think you know my answer," you say coldly, straightening your back in her chair. "I have to go, we have a case in Arizona."

She holds your gaze for a second, before nodding and turning back to her computer. You stand up and leave her office without another word, hastening your pace to a light jog the moment you're out of her line of sight.

You want to talk to Hotch as soon as possible, but by the time you get back to the bullpen, the whole team and their go-bags are gone. Grabbing your own bag, you rush over to the airstrip where everyone is settled inside the jet.

He glances up with a thin smile when you take a seat across from him, and you return it, not wanting to raise his concern when everyone is around.

The Flagstaff police meet you at the airport when you land, and everyone jumps into the awaiting SUVs to get to the crime scene as soon as possible.

The victim is another brunette woman on the college campus, but luckily her body was found after curfew, so students aren't milling around.

You step closer to examine the woman's body as JJ glances down at her hand. "She had her Mace out, but she didn't use it?"

Morgan nods, looking around. "And it's well-lit. He's not afraid of being seen."

A bus stop sign catches your attention and you turn to Detective Griffith. "How often do the shuttles run?"

He answers immediately. "Every 10 minutes."

"Were all the other victims posed like this?" Reid asks, bending over to get a better look. "With their arms crossed."

Griffith frowns. "Yeah. Why?"

"It's a classic sign of remorse," Morgan responds, stepping in to take over the explanation. "The unsub kills the victim then immediately feels bad about it, so he poses them like this, so they'll rest in peace."

"You can tell that just by the arms?"

"It's why you called us here. To build a psychological profile of your killer."

After inspecting the crime scene, Gideon and Morgan leave to talk to the dean of the school, and JJ and Reid go to meet with the students living in the victim's dorm. Hotch is still back at the station, and you haven't gotten a chance to talk to him since meeting with Strauss, but you push it out of your mind as you accompany Emily to the coroner's office.

You're so lost in thought that the drive over is entirely silent, and it's not until you've parked that you realize she didn't say a word either.

When the coroner leads you to the victim's body, you notice how much clearer each of the markings and cuts are. Hotch doesn't assign you to speak with the coroners very often, usually sending Prentiss, because of her incredible attention to detail, but not that you're here, you appreciate the second chance to examine the victim.

"Did the other victims have this much overkill?" she asks, pulling out her camera as you flip open your notebook.

"Death was caused by a single, very forceful stab wound to the heart," the coroner confirms.

You lean in closer to see the insertion point and notice the lumpy discoloring on the victim's chest. "Yeah, it looks like he broke through the breastbone."

"And after that he just lashed out at random," he adds.

Emily hums in agreement before snapping a couple of photos. "Well, no defensive wounds. She didn't even hold her hands up to fight him off."

"The first two victims were the same."

A shudder runs through you as the two of you leave the cold room and emerge into the warm sunlight. "Why is it almost harder to look at the victims when they're cleaned up and no longer covered in blood?"

Emily considers your question for a moment. "Maybe it's because they look less human that way."

You remember Jeff's funeral, how lifeless he seemed in his casket, and how you could barely look at him during the proceedings. It was somehow worse than seeing him at the crime scene, blood everywhere. At least then, you could still see the warmth in his skin. Later, he just looked cold.

"I think you're right," you tell her just as her phone chirps with a call.

She stiffens imperceptibly when she sees the number, but you only notice because of how hyper-vigilant you have been about your own tells since speaking with Strauss. "I need to take this. Give me a second."

She walks away from you and answers the call, her tone hushed so that you can't hear her. You know it could easily just be a personal call about something private in her life, but there's something almost familiar about the look in her eyes when she saw the number.

"Everything okay?" you ask her when she returns, but she just sighs and starts walking to the SUV. "It's nothing."

You haven't known her for as long as the other members of the team, but it's not hard to tell that she's hiding something. She looks distracted as she avoids making eye contact, and when you remember how you did the same with Hotch on the plane, the pieces fall into place.

If Strauss gave her the same assignment she tried to give you, then you need to keep an eye on her. You don't believe that she would sell out the team, but you also know how terrifying you thought Strauss was when you first joined the bureau.

***

The profile leads you to take Nathan Tubbs, one of the campus security guards, into custody, and while Gideon interrogates him, you walk with Reid, JJ, and Emily through the quad to get back to the station.

"Everyone is so much younger than I remember being," JJ says, as you all pass through a crowded part of campus. Word must have spread that the team arrested someone, because you can't imagine why else there would be so many students hanging outside after dark.

"Yeah, it's a weird age," Emily chuckles. "You want to be treated like an adult, but you're still used to someone else solving your problems for you."

"All I remember is trying to figure out who I was."

That makes you laugh. "I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was in college."

"Didn't you go to college with Hotch?" JJ asks, her eyes twinkling. You expect she's hoping for an embarrassing, or at least interesting, story from those years, but your past with him feels almost like sacred territory: something you can't breach when he's not around.

"Not college," you correct, "just everything else before and after."

"What was he like then?" Emily asks, genuine curiosity in her tone. You still can't believe that she would spy for Strauss, but you also can't help your suspicions.

"He was completely different, but also the same." You smile as you think back to the early years of your friendship. "He was kind of a cool kid in high school, but he was just as focused and determined as he is now."

"Hotch was popular?" Reid asks in disbelief.

JJ snorts. "Why can't I imagine that at all."

"He was trustworthy," you shrug, "and kind. Even when people weren't kind to him."

The three of them go silent, and you suddenly feel extremely self-conscious, but you're saved when your phone rings with a call from Derek. "Hey."

"There's been another murder."

***

The case ends in a murder-suicide that a part of you believes Gideon should've seen coming. JJ calls the jet to take off at first light, and everyone looks exhausted when you arrive at the airport. You sleep most of the flight back, but when you step into the field office again, you know you can't ignore the talk you've been avoiding all day.

You go to his office in the hopes of having this conversation privately, but he isn't inside when you look through the open door. You turn back with a frown and are about to head down the stairs again when you see him leaving Strauss's office across the hall.

He spots you immediately, and before you can say anything, he says, "I just got suspended."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

"Two weeks."

You blanche as you follow him into his office, where he immediately starts packing up his essentials into his briefcase. "Hotch...I have to tell you something. Something I should have mentioned yesterday."

"What is it?" he asks, his voice slightly distracted.

"StraussaskedmetospyonyouandIthinkshealsoaskedEmily!"

He blinks. "Can you say that again?"

You press your lips together, before trying again, slower this time. "Strauss asked me to spy on you, and I think she also asked Emily."

He closes his eyes for a beat, but it feels like years. You can feel the disappointment wafting off of him, but he doesn't say anything, giving you the time to explain in more detail.

"She asked me right before we flew to Arizona," you tell him, your chest aching at the defeated look on his face. "I told her I wouldn't do it, of course, and that you are the perfect leader for this team. But I was watching Emily the whole time we were there, and I think Strauss might have threatened her or made her some kind of offer."

His hands pause their packing and for a moment, you're worried that he's going to be angry you didn't come to him sooner, but then he just sighs, a deeply dejected sound. "I figured she would. It's basically in the FBI playbook."

"You knew?" you say, your voice almost like a gasp.

"I didn't know for sure," he amends, "but I believed so. And I'm usually right about these kinds of things. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. You guys will be fine without me."

You want to shake him; to reach forward and rattle his shoulders until he realizes that this is it. This is exactly why he makes such a great unit chief.

He doesn't get angry, even when he may have cause to be. He trusts his team so wholeheartedly that even under the suspicion of spying to the higher-ups, he still treats everyone the same. He puts the team above himself in almost every aspect, and the intermittent calls you get from Haley when you're in the middle of a long case prove that it may be to his own detriment, but he still does it. Because he cares so deeply, about each of you, and about each victim, and about catching each killer.

"We need you," you say, emphasizing your words as though that will make him understand you better.

"Morgan and Prentiss will be fine," he says pointedly, as though trying to prove a point. "I'm sure they'll even be better off. And Reid and JJ can look to you for guidance. It's practically what they do already."

"Fine," you sigh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "They'll be okay. But what if I need you?"

He looks at you then, and there's a sadness behind the stern set of his eyes. "You'll be okay."

***

You have to drag yourself out of the house the next morning. The knowledge that Hotch (and most likely Gideon) won't be at the office sucks the motivation out of you, especially because you have no idea what will happen once the team is given another case. Will they assign you a new unit chief? Will they temporarily promote someone on the team?

You push your questions out of your mind as you mindlessly get through security and flop down at your desk. There's a palpable difference with half the team gone, especially since Emily doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight either, and the emptiness of the office somehow feels more claustrophobic.

You finished all of your paperwork the night before, because you couldn't sleep after hearing of Hotch's suspension, so sitting at your desk now, you have nothing to do until a new case arrives.

Reid and Morgan dive into their own paperwork the minute they sit down, and they don't look up except to grab a new pen or refill their mugs.

You can see the tension lining everyone's shoulders, the stress about the future of this team, with its two senior-most members gone.

When you can't take the lack of work anymore, you head over to JJ's office, where she is poring over a stack of case files so tall that you can't see her face until you step in front of her desk. "Hey, JJ."

"Oh, hey," she says, looking up at you. "It's been really quiet out there."

You nod, dropping onto the sofa across from her. "Half the team's gone. It doesn't feel the same."

"I wish I could come out there and sit with you guys, but I have so many new case files to look over."

"Need any help?"

She looks up in surprise. "Actually, that would be great. Can I leave you with a few of them? There's a checklist for what I need you to note down at the top of that stack."

"Of course," you say before she hands you a thick stack of files. "I'll get them back to you soon."

"Take your time," she says, waving you away. "I have like a billion more to go through anyway."

When you're back at your desk, you set down the stack with a small thud and open the first file. You're bombarded with gory images of men who have been brutally stabbed to death, and you read over the case history quickly before opening the next one. This time, the images are of live women, all of whom share a skin tone and hair color, and have been kidnapped in the last week.

You slam the file shut and close your eyes in an effort to keep your head from spinning. You don't understand how anyone could classify these cases. How they could decide that one of these unsubs is worse than another. But there aren't enough teams like yours to cover every case that comes through the door, so someone has to.

You glance up at Hotch's office again, a force of habit, and the darkness in his doorway reminds you of the emptiness in the office. It's the same with Gideon's office, and Emily's desk.

You miss them all.

***

The first week of Hotch's suspension is hell. Gideon still hasn't turned up, and you can see his absence clawing at Spencer, who hasn't gone more than an hour without glancing at his office since he left. Derek doesn't admit it, but you can tell he misses Hotch's leadership over the team.

Strauss has come by periodically to "check in" on your team's work, but with the other units available to take on any new cases, she hasn't assigned you anything. You know she doesn't trust your team, but you're surprised that even with Hotch gone, she's still treating all of you like extensions of him. Not that she's wrong about that.

Without getting called in, you stay at home for the first few days, and even get some use out of your Peloton for once. You've been missing him all week, but it's not until the following Monday that you decide to actually do something about it.

Grabbing the files JJ gave you to look over, you stuff them in your bag and drive up to his house. Both cars are in the driveway when you arrive, and you belatedly realize that you should have called first.

You knock on the door hesitantly, and are surprised to see Jack in Haley's arms when she opens the door. She looks excited to see you, but you still feel bad about just showing up. "I'm sorry, I should have called."

"Not at all," she says, opening the door wider for you to enter. "You know I love seeing you."

"Y/N's here," Haley announces as she leads you into the kitchen and sets Jack back into his high chair. She shoots you a pointed look. "And she's not here to talk about work."

"Of course not," you say with a laugh. "I just wanted to see how the suspension was going. The team really misses you."

He acknowledges you with a small nod, and you take a seat opposite him at the table, where he is feeding Jack his cereal.

"I miss everyone, too," he says, "but it's also been nice to have some extra time at home."

"This suspension has been a blessing in disguise," Haley jumps in, ruffling Jack's hair. You don't miss the way Hotch's jaw twitches.

You aren't sure what to say to that, but Haley just pulls Jack out of his chair and turns to the doorway. "I'm gonna put him down for his nap. It was nice seeing you, Y/N."

"You too, Hales," you say earnestly, before smiling at Jack. "Bye, buddy."

When she's out of the room, you shoot Hotch a look that makes him lean back with a frown. "What?"

"You miss work, don't you."

He huffs, and you take that as an admission. "I've loved being home," he says, his words slightly more emphasized than necessary.

You can hear the candor in his voice. You don't doubt that he loves spending time with his family, you just also know the pull of the job. The fulfillment of saving people from unimaginable horrors, and the desolate ache that comes when you know you aren't doing everything you can.

"You can feel both things," you whisper as he exasperatedly runs his hand through his hair. He got a haircut.

The thought pops into your head against your will, and you glance up at his hair as you realize this is the shortest it's been in a long time. It suits him, but it also emphasizes the hard furrow of his brow.

"Haley doesn't understand that," he says simply, no ill intention in his tone, "but I can't expect her to. I barely understand it, and it's what I'm feeling."

To the outside listener, his words could be construed as complaints, but there's nothing but deep empathy in his voice. He loves her so much, and even though they're having differences about his work life, she loves him too.

You spend the next half hour talking him through each of the cases that JJ left you with, and when Haley returns to the kitchen after putting Jack down for his nap, you pull out a chair for her and tuck the files away.

"We need to have you over for dinner sometime soon," she says as soon as she takes a seat. "I can't believe we haven't done it yet." She looks to Hotch with an earnest sigh. "I guess Jack has been kind of a handful, but I can't believe this is your first time coming to the house since he was born."

"It's been too long," he agrees, draping an arm over the back of her chair. The sight of their casual intimacy is a reminder of what you once had, but the usual mistiness doesn't come when you think about Jeff. Your chest just fills with a liquid-y warmth that feels like melted chocolate and syrup.

"Likewise," you smile, patting Haley's hand. "I don't know if I can handle another night out, even with the mid-evening interruption."

She laughs heartily, and you see Hotch's lips curve up involuntarily. "I think I'm partied out for the year."

His arm slips down to rest against her waist, but she doesn't lean into him like she usually does. You avert your eyes, glancing up at their kitchen wall clock and faking a gasp. "I've taken up too much of your family time. I should go."

"It's okay," Hotch assuages at the same time that Haley says, "I'll walk you out."

They share a small glance, and you suddenly feel intrusive in their home. "I'll see you in a week."

He nods and you follow Haley to the door, where she gives you a quick squeeze and another promise to have you over for dinner soon. The sun starts to set as you drive home, and before you can second guess yourself, you're turning into a local farmer's market that is about to shut down for the night.

You rush through the stalls and stop in front of the flower shop, where you buy a dozen pink carnations. The vendor ties the bouquet with a silky ribbon and you hold the flowers close to your heart as you walk back to your car and start driving.

This time, you're more aware of the direction you're headed. You don't stop your car until you're in the parking lot and you don't stop moving until you're past the front gates and up the grassy hill where Jeff's headstone sits stoically under the waning sunlight.

You take a deep breath as you sink down to your knees, blissfully unaware of the grass stains coloring your slacks. You set the flowers down in front of his headstone, which you haven't seen in months.

                                                 Jeff Adler

                               Beloved Son, Husband, Brother

                                        Until we meet again

The carnations look bright against the gray stone, and you arrange them neatly so that they don't get blown away.

He loved flowers. He knew they were impermanent and likely a waste of money, but he still loved all of the different emotions they symbolized, and how beautiful they could be for as long as they lasted.

He brought you a bouquet of heliotrope almost every week after you got married, and when you asked him what it meant, he insisted that it was something you had to find out in your own time. That time came a quick Google search later, and when the words 'eternal love' flashed on your screen, you knew you had picked the right man.

You brush your finger against the petals of the pink carnations you brought, remembering the rest of what the search yielded. Angelica for inspiration, calla lily for beauty, and pink carnation for gratitude.

You're so grateful you met him. So grateful he loved you as much as you loved him.

"I love you," you whisper, suddenly needing to say the words out loud. There's no one around, and the sun has set far enough that there's barely enough light to see, but your words feel strong as they come out of your mouth. "Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for giving me 10 beautiful years."

You wipe away the tear that falls from the corner of your eye. "Goodbye."

***

He takes his time as he walks through the halls of the Virginia field office on Monday morning. He hasn't been inside in two weeks, and after he and Haley agreed that he should request a transfer, he likely won't be back again for a very long time.

When he walks past the glass doors of the bullpen, he spots you at your desk, pointing out something to Morgan in a case file. He hastens his pace so you don't see him. He still doesn't know how to tell you that he isn't coming back.

"Good morning, ma'am," he says when Strauss beckons him into her office.

"I was hoping you'd do the right thing," she says, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you given any thought to what department you'll request?"

He shakes his head. "I was under the impression that if I left the BAU, I'd have my choice of posts."

"Well, I'll consider it after I fully complete my investigation."

She pauses before looking at him again. "You were a prosecutor. What about heading up a white-collar crime task force? That'll get you home at night at a reasonable hour."

That sounds like exactly what Haley wants for them. They spent hours over the last week discussing what the best path forward would be post-suspension, and after countless late-night arguments, they finally agreed on a transfer. It would be best for the team, and best for his family. So why does he feel so guilty?

"Sorry to interrupt."

Prentiss barges into the office, as though she had an appointment. She glances over at him, and he can't read her expression. "Sir, I've decided to resign from the FBI, effective immediately."

"I don't understand," he frowns, taking in her rigid posture. He remembers your suspicions, as well as his own, but this can't be where it ends.

"I'm taking the foreign service exam. With my connections, I'd stand a good chance of landing in the State Department."

"Prentiss," he urges, trying to convey his understanding in his tone. "I think that's a mistake."

She shakes her head with a sigh. "Well, don't try to talk me out of it. Garcia saw my name on the list, and she already tried."

That makes him pause. "If she can't talk someone out of doing something, no one can."

"Sorry for the interruption, but, sir, it's good to see you back." She turns her gaze to Strauss, even as she continues speaking to him. "The team needs you."

She stalks out of the room after a quick "Ma'am", leaving him alone with Strauss, who looks like she's up to her last nerve. "I'll be overseeing this next case until I can assign your replacement."

"You don't have any field experience, do you?" He doesn't mean for the words to come out so critically, but his emotions are a jumbled mess that he can't decipher well enough to fix his mood right now.

"My job is to protect the Bureau. If I have to hold the team's hand for one case, so be it."

Hold the team's hand. He can't imagine that Strauss will be of much help in the field, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's been around enough authority figures to know when to keep his criticisms to himself.

"Ma'am," he says gently, hoping he can turn his thoughts into useful advice. "In order to function effectively, this team needs stability."

She clasps her hands together on her desk, and he knows it's done. There's nothing he can do to fix this for the team, at least not on this case. "The BAU has some very talented people, and they're Bureau assets, and I believe it's time that they were out from underneath the leadership of you and Jason Gideon."

***

Hotch was supposed to come back today. It's not until you're on the plane that Derek informs the team that he's requesting a transfer.

"What?" you burst out, unable to keep your composure even with Strauss seated a few rows behind you.

"He didn't tell you?"

You shake your head with a forlorn frown, and Derek jumps back in quickly to remediate the situation. "I only found out because I ran into him on the way to the jet. He didn't seem like he was in the mood for talking."

But he tells you everything. At least you thought he did.

"It's okay," you say, forcing your face into a neutral expression. "This isn't about me. I just can't believe he's leaving."

"Yeah," JJ grimaces, "and I can't believe we're stuck with her now. You know, from this angle, she looks almost human."

You all glance behind you, but thankfully, her face is still buried in the case file.

"Emily didn't come in today, either," you point out, turning to the empty seat next to you. "We're down two agents, and Gideon's MIA."

Reid blinks, and you curse yourself for being so cavalier. You know how hard Gideon's absence has been on him.

He recovers quickly and leans in to the center console with a raised eyebrow. "Has Strauss ever even been out of the-"

A chorus of shushes come from Derek and JJ and he shuts up as Strauss walks down the aisle and sits across from you all. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's protocol to brief everyone before we arrive at the crime scene?"

JJ turns red and she nods hastily, opening her file. "Yes, ma'am."

Strauss has only been here for ten minutes and you already want to strangle her. JJ explains the case details succinctly, and when the plane lands, you all head over to the crime scene to find Detective Wolynski, who called your team in when the murders got out of hand.

Within minutes of meeting them, Strauss manages to ruin your relationship with the local police by questioning their decision to wait so long to call in the BAU. JJ immediately takes matters into her own hands as she explains that we have to work with them if we want to be included in the investigation at all, but she doesn't seem to care.

You get a call from Penelope as you're heading back to the SUVs, and you step aside to get out of Strauss's earshot. "What's up, Pen?"

"I tried everything I could," she wails. You can hear the distinct clicking of her keyboard in the background. "I tried to convince him to stay, but he's so stubborn."

You sigh, glancing over at the scene, where Strauss looks positively nauseous. You can empathize with her emotions, because you know how hard it was for you to see your first crime scene in person, but this just further proves how unfit she is to understand what being on this team really means. "If he made up his mind, there's gonna be no changing it, unless he changes it himself."

She huffs, before audibly perking up. "I gave him the Milwaukee case file before he went home, and I also, uh, saw that his transfer hasn't passed through the system yet."

You're almost certain she had something to do with that, but your mind immediately starts going through the possibilities of what this could mean. If his transfer isn't in the system, then that means he technically still works on this team...which means him not being here is in dereliction of duty. If there's anything that can convince Hotch to show up, it's duty.

"You've been more help than you know," you tell her, before hanging up and hopping into the SUV.

***

When he arrived at his house with the case file Garcia gave him, he immediately stuffed it in his bag and tossed it onto the floor. He definitely didn't think about reading it the entire time he was changing out of his suit, and making a quick lunch for Haley and himself. When she went upstairs to put Jack down for his nap, he couldn't help himself any longer.

Reaching into his bag, he pulls out the file and flips it open slowly, being careful to angle the gruesome photos away from the stairs in case Haley came down without him noticing. Women taken in the afternoons and killed. Bodies dumped in the morning. Hearts cut out of their chests. The words pop out at him as he skims the page, and he's so engrossed in the material that he doesn't hear her until she's standing over him. "I thought this was over."

"It is," he sighs, closing the file. "I'm just curious." He doesn't know when he started lying to his wife, but he doesn't like it. The bitter taste of it in his mouth.

He can see her gearing up for a fight when their home phone rings. He picks it up and clicks the button to answer, but even after saying 'hello' a couple of times, no one responds. For a split second, his mind flashes back a year to the Fisher King and the secret message left on his home phone, but he pushes the thought away.

He clicks the phone off, looking up at Haley again, but then a shrill ringing sound starts again, this time from her purse across the living room.

An unfamiliar queasiness fills his stomach, and he maintains eye contact with her as her eyes flicker back and forth a couple of times. He promised himself he would never profile his family, but the analyses come before he can shut off that part of his brain. Shifting eyes. Rigid posture. All indications of lying and shame.

"What did the Section Chief say?" she asks, her hands going to her hips. Stance of power to overcompensate for-

He shakes the line of thinking from his head. "She suggested that I transfer to a white-collar-crime task force."

"Would you have to travel?"

"No, I'd have a nine-to-five life."

She nods, and he can see the finality in her stance. "Then, it's a no-brainer."

***

You haven't been able to focus as well as you'd like to with the knowledge that Hotch isn't coming back hanging over your head. When you get a spare moment at the station, you step out of the conference room where all of the evidence has been scattered around and press the first number on your speed dial.

"Hello?" It's Haley.

You stumble over your words as you say 'hello' back. You weren't expecting it to be her who answered. She clearly wasn't expecting you either, because she sighs dramatically when she hears your voice and you hear a quiet "It's Y/N" before the phone is handed over.

You can understand where she's coming from. When Jeff was about to start his undercover assignment, you were so angry at him for choosing to be away from you for so long. But then rationality won over, and you remembered why he was doing it...for the same reason you are.

"Hey."

He sounds guilty. You can imagine.

"Hey," you say simply, waiting for him to fill in the gaps. He owes you at least that much.

"I'm sorry," he says after a long pause, "but you knew this was coming. You know Haley hates what this job turns me into, and you know sometimes I hate it too."

That wasn't really the explanation you were expecting. Not willing to let him off the hook, you turn your face away from the conference room windows to hide your expression and lower your voice. "You should have told me, and you know it. That's why you're hiding behind this false justification...but I guess you know that too."

There's a small rustling sound over the receiver and you can imagine him running his hands through his newly cropped hair. "This doesn't change the fact that I'm leaving."

Sometimes you forget that he was once a young boy with an alarmingly developed moral compass that didn't always point in your direction. It's times like this that remind you.

"Fine." You feel like an irritable teenager again, but you can't contain yourself around him. Even when you want to hide a part of yourself, you can't.

"How's the case going?" he asks finally. His voice has gotten softer and you know he feels bad about how this call has been going, but with neither of you willing to concede, you decide to ignore it for now.

"Well, Strauss just offended the lead detective 45 seconds into her first crime scene."

He chuckles softly. "I'm not surprised."

"This isn't about to get any better, is it?" you ask, huffing out a forlorn sigh.

"I doubt it," he agrees. "I'll keep looking at the file from my end. Any idea how he's getting control of these women? Is he blitzing them or coercing them?"

"So far, we're coming up blank," you admit, glancing back at Morgan and Reid, who appear to be in a productive debate.

"All right. Keep me posted."

***

Another victim turns up and you're not any closer to figuring out who the unsub is. Derek steps away from the group a few minutes after you and you see him pacing the halls of the precinct, his phone pressed to his ear.

A break in the case comes when Garcia identifies school records of children who exhibit signs of perfectionism and co-dependence, leading you to a profile for the unsub. You're all listening to Garcia as she reads off the records when the door opens, with two figures standing in the entrance.

"Look who's here," Morgan grins, shaking Hotch's hand. Emily looks sheepish as she glances over at Strauss, who is downright fuming.

"How fast can you get us up to speed?" Hotch asks without another greeting.

Morgan scoffs. "How fast can you sit down?"

Strauss opens her mouth to say something, but Hotch beats her to it as he takes a seat next to you. You ignore the gesture. "We're only here to help."

She sighs. "We'll deal with this later."

With two more members back on the team, at least for the time being, the SUVs are split more evenly, and you join Emily, JJ, and Strauss in the first one as you head to the crime scene. Strauss is the first one to walk up to the scene, but the moment she sees the mangled body, she breaks down, her face contorting into a sob that she tries and fails to hold in.

You make a move to go and help her, but you're surprised when Hotch is the first to step in. "If you need a second, take a second. This is what it is. Just don't let the public see you break down."

He's so kind to her, even though she's the reason for all of his professional stress. You suppose she's not the only reason, but that isn't something you get to have an opinion on.

The devolution of the dump sites leads to an update of the profile, which gets you an address for a young boy who left school early with the nurse on duty. It doesn't take long to get to the house, and Derek and JJ coordinate some of the local police and SWAT as you strap on your kevlar vests.

After an initial argument about the probable cause of entering a house you don't know is dangerous, Emily pipes up with an idea. "Let me go in alone."

"Wait..." you start but she steamrolls over you, clearly needing to compensate for not being here before. "The boy's in the family room. He's looking for female authority figures. If he lets me in, I can signal as soon as I see anything that gives us cause."

"Technically, you're not even in the FBI," Reid points out.

She nods. "All the better."

Strauss steps in with a frown, to no one's surprise. "She's interfering with a federal investigation."

"Well, if I'm no longer in the FBI, then you have no authority over me." Emily shrugs and turns to Hotch for the approval she actually wants. "I'm just a civilian knocking on a little boy's door."

He nods and she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. Derek hands her his gun, and you suddenly remember that Hotch doesn't have his gun either. Reaching into your other side holster, you pull out your second firearm and hand it to him without a word. He doesn't lift his hand at first, but then he nods at you and takes the gun, his eyes filled with an earnest gratitude, and you know you've forgiven him.

Once she goes inside, you all wait in silence for the signal to breach the home. It takes almost too long, but eventually your earpieces fill with a loud beeping, and Derek yells "Go!"

You find her in a back room, where she's on the floor, her forehead bleeding from a thick gash. You enter just in time to see Hotch leap forward and take Emily's weapon from the little boy, before lifting him up and carrying him out of the house.

"I can't officially approve of how that transpired," Strauss says when you all come outside. You sit next to Emily and squeeze her hand as the paramedics patch up her forehead.

Hotch shakes his head, clearly done with the bureau politics. "The arrest was clean. It would be a mistake to break up this team."

She looks at him pointedly. "None of you will ever move up the chain of command, you know that."

"Why would I ever want to leave the BAU?"

You almost believe him. It's not that you don't think he wants to stay. You know he does. You just also know how much his family means to him, and how thin Haley's patience has worn.

Morgan asks if he means it, and he gives a vague answer that you expect, before turning to look at you.

"Here." He reaches into his waistband and pulls out your gun. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

His hand brushes yours when you take it back, and the warmth of his skin makes you shiver against the slight breeze. "You're welcome."

***

When he gets home, the lights are off.

"Haley?" he calls out into the empty silence. He tries to convince himself that he didn't see this coming, but after her last words to him before he left, it's a futile exercise.

"Make sure to give your son a kiss before you leave."

He left, even when she begged him not to. Now his wife has left, and she took their son with her, and once again, he is utterly alone.

***

Gideon's resignation comes through and you find yourself missing him more than you thought you would. If Hotch is the backbone of the team, he was the stoic foundation. He formed the roots of the BAU as a unit altogether, and you owe your life's work to his intelligence and foresight. But more than that, you can't help but remember the fact that out of all the members on the team, Gideon knew Jeff the best.

He attended countless lectures about past unsubs that Gideon put on at the academy, because he believed understanding why people do things was just as important as knowing how or what they were doing. He even went to Gideon's home for the occasional dinner, and he brought you along once after you got married.

You're not sure what the team will look like without his guiding hand, but you don't have to wait long to find out when JJ calls you with the notice that you're going to Portland.

Spencer is reading a piece of paper over and over again when you get to the office, and when you peek over his shoulder, you see the familiar scrawl of Gideon's handwriting.

Taking a deep breath, you reach forward to put your hand on his shoulder for a moment of comfort, but think better of it and pull back at the last second. Derek sees your indecision and cocks his head towards him.

You walk over to his desk and perch on its edge with a sigh. "I can't believe he would leave just like that."

"I can," Morgan shrugs, his eyes hard with contempt. When you shoot him a look, he softens. "I just mean that he's been showing signs of withdrawal for a while now. It still sucks for the kid, though."

You both look up at Reid across the aisle, where he is still scanning the letter. "At least he got a letter." You try to bring humor into your tone, but it doesn't work.

"It's not about us," Derek says gently, in a show of empathy for the older agent that is unfamiliar coming from him. "He did what he had to do to keep himself sane. We just have to let him."

You nod, just as JJ emerges from the hallway with Hotch on her heels. "We're starting the briefing."

***

"You must be the BAU."

A handsome man with a thick East Coast accent comes forward to introduce himself when you all enter the Portland field office. "Special Agent Bill Calvert."

"Hi, Jennifer Jareau," JJ smiles, extending her hand. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner. This is Dr. Reid and Agents Morgan, Prentiss and L/N."

He smiles at each of you but his eyes linger on yours for a moment before he takes JJ's hand. "I appreciate your help on this case."

"You're from Boston?" you ask, trying to place his accent after having heard nothing like it since you landed. 

"The accent's kind of hard to miss in Oregon, right?" he grins, before reaching his hand out to you. "Agent L/N, was it?"

You shake his hand, shooting him a thin smile. You can already see Emily and JJ's smirks behind your back.

"We'd like to take a look around Jenny Wittman's apartment," Hotch steps in, moving forward to stand beside you.

Calvert nods. "I'd take you myself, but I'm waiting to meet her family, so I'll have another agent drive you."

"Thank you." Hotch rushes off with Reid and Morgan, and you stay back with JJ and Prentiss to work the victimology.

"Can we set up in here?" you ask Calvert as you start moving the boxes of case files and evidence onto the conference room table.

"Of course," he says, before leaving the three of you alone.

The first ten minutes of looking through the evidence is silent, and for a second, you nearly let yourself believe the other women won't bring up the elephant in the room, but then JJ lets out an involuntary giggle and they pounce.

"He's definitely into you," she says, making no effort to hide her gaze as she unabashedly stares at Calvert through the window. You want to retort immediately, but after seeing her check her phone about a dozen more times a day than she usually does, you suspect she may actually know what she's talking about when it comes to love these days.

Emily nods, biting her lip. "He couldn't stop looking at you."

"You're profilers," you argue, tossing the file in your hand onto the table. "You notice all kinds of insignificant stuff."

"So are you," JJ points out. "What do you think, then?"

They have you boxed in, and you can't think of any answer that would sufficiently appease them so you just groan.

"She's into it, too," JJ grins at Emily, who replies with, "I can't believe Y/N's gonna date someone from Portland."

Without thinking, you huff. "He's from Boston." All three pairs of eyes widen as you realize your slip in not denying her statement.

Emily laughs. "Ohh, it's so happening!"

***

When the men return from Jenny Wittman's apartment, Hotch instructs JJ to televise a statement warning possible future victims who fit the unsub's victimology. When Emily and Derek later find an ad hung up in a local laundromat that suggests he's been killing for longer than you'd previously thought, you decide to head back to the trail where the first bodies were found.

When you arrive on the scene, a dozen new bodies have been found further down the trail and near the water.

"How did we miss this before?" you think out loud, not realizing that Calvert has come up behind you.

"The trail's 40 miles long."

You jump when you hear his voice, and he apologizes after a small chuckle. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Special Agent Calvert," you say, your voice slightly airy as you catch your breath. "No need to apologize."

"Okay," he smiles, turning to stand in front of you, "and you can call me Bill."

He's a good looking man, and you don't dislike the feeling of someone showing interest in you, especially as clearly intelligent and qualified as him.

"Sure," you say, returning the smile. "I'm Y/N, btw."

"That's a pretty name," he says, his eyes glinting with mischievousness, before he turns back to the scene before you. "They dug up eight new graves before you got here."

You frown. "So the unsub didn't stick to the pattern."

"Guy had a busy year."

You nod, pondering what this change in M.O. could mean, when Bill interrupts your thoughts. "I'm interested to hear more about how this profiling thing goes."

You give him a quizzical smile, and his lips quirk up. "I took a class in criminal psychology in college, but I don't remember enough to be useful in this area."

"We observe human behavior," you explain, ignoring the subtle smirk Emily is flashing you from behind his back. "Profiling is about making connections and predicting future actions based on history, victimology, and behavior."

He takes a moment to digest your words before huffing out a laugh. "Sounds to me like we called in the right team."

When another agent comes by to ask him about the crime scene procedure, you take your leave and walk up the hill of mulch by the open graves. You are nearly to the SUV when you spot Morgan beelining towards you.

"Not you too," you sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically as you stalk away from him.

He catches up to you easily and throws an arm over your shoulders with a grin. "I'm not gonna give you the giggly girl talk that JJ and Prentiss clearly have covered. I just wanted to say one thing."

You look at him expectantly and he brings you both to a stop by the cars. "You're a catch, L/N." You start to roll your eyes again, but he shakes his head. "You are, so if you want to have a little no-strings-fun, then I'll have your back through and through."

You have no idea what no-strings-fun would look like, but you glance back at Bill, who is speaking animatedly with another agent about the change in digging patterns of the graves.

"I don't know what I want," you admit as Derek drops his arm and turns to face you.

"That's okay," he says, before the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "But figuring that out can be just as much fun too."

***

He would be lying if he said he hasn't noticed you talking to the Special Agent on the case. Calvert, he remembers as he thinks back to the capture and subsequent suicide of the unsub from the roof of his old therapist office.

They were able to find the final victim before she died, so even with the unsub's death, the case feels like a victory, and the whole team looks light on the way back to the jet.

He has been trying to keep himself light too, but every time he gets a moment to himself, his mind reverts back to the silent darkness of his home after he returned from the last case. The reminder that he hasn't seen Haley or Jack in days.

When he reaches the tarmac, he spots you talking to Calvert again, but the conversation looks different than before. The special agent looks nervous, and he tries to gauge whether you seem comfortable, before realizing how relaxed you look.

When he gets closer, he catches the end of a question that likely started with "Can I have your number?" You smile at the man, and he turns away, trying not to eavesdrop.

He can't tell what he wants you to say. He knows it's been enough time since Jeff's death that real dating isn't out of the question, but he can't reconcile the protective instinct flickering in his gut.

Regardless of the distance he tried putting between you and himself, your voice carries over the tarmac, and he hears you say, "I'm sorry." before the rest of the sentence gets jumbled in the breeze. Something that feels alarmingly like relief settles in his chest and he frowns at the foreign feeling of it coursing through his veins.

He boards the plane and purposefully chooses a seat with an empty spot next to it, knowing you'll choose to sit beside him after he practically ignored you all day. He really wasn't trying to shut you out, he just doesn't know how to broach the topic of separation with anyone, let alone someone who had as stable a marriage as you did.

When you board the jet and take your seat next to him, he glances over at you sheepishly and murmurs, "I overheard the end."

He's surprised when you laugh lightly. "It's okay. Everyone was going to find out soon enough, especially with how excited Prentiss and JJ were about it."

He nods, glad that you aren't angry about his invasion of your privacy. Then, before he can stop himself, he looks at you and asks, "You didn't want to see him again?"

"I don't think I'm looking to just date for dating's sake anymore," you explain, your eyes flitting around the cabin at the sleeping forms of the rest of the team. "I had a true love...I don't want to settle down again for anything less."

He understands that completely, but he can tell there's something else bothering you, and not just because of the rhythmic bouncing of your knee that you don't seemed to have noticed. "What else?"

You shrug, not meeting his eye. "I used to have my usual excuse, but I can't really say it's too soon anymore, can I?"

He frowns as he notices the visible strain on you that this burden has caused. "You get to decide that for yourself."

"I know," you sigh, rubbing your eye with a loose fist. "I just worry sometimes that I use Jeff as an excuse to keep myself closed off." Your knee stills, and Hotch scoots closer, even with the armrest in the way.

"You don't seem closed off to me."

Your eyes crinkle with laughter. "I'm not sure if that means much coming from you. You're not exactly the picture of openness, Hotch."

He knows you're mostly joking, but your read punches him in the gut in a way he doesn't expect. You must see the shock on his face, because you immediately lean in closer. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, trying to delay for as long as he can. If he doesn't say it out loud, maybe he can pretend that he's still a happily married man. That he didn't fail his wife and son by being as absent as he had wished his father had been, early in his life.

"It's not about Gideon leaving, is it?" You scrutinize him for a moment before shaking your head. "No. Hotch, what's the matter?"

"We agreed not to profile each other," he sighs, gritting his teeth against the pain of having to vocalize one of the lowest moments in his life.

"Aaron," you whisper. Your voice is soft and gentle, and he breaks.

"Haley left."

Your mouth parts in surprise, and he looks down at his lap, taking a deep breath. "And I don't know if she's coming back."

***

You've been waiting in the arrivals lot of the airport for almost an hour. You're assuming his flight got delayed, and you're grateful for the time to get yourself ready to see him, but the wait hasn't made your jitters any better.

You haven't seen Hotch since you left for college last year, and with his pre-law internship that he somehow snagged as a first year, it was a lonely summer.

When he called you last week with profuse apologies for not staying more in touch and a somber tone that had to be about more than his regrettable phone habits, you had told him that you would love to see him, but your winter break doesn't start for another month. After a few hushed breaths and a second of thinking, he told you that he had bought a plane ticket out to California for the following weekend.

That's why it's Friday afternoon, and you're still waiting for his familiar mop of dark hair to appear through the exit doors. A boy walks out right then, with the same raven hair and fit stature, and your heart rate hastens for a split second, before you realize it's not him.

You look down at your car's radio and twist the dial to change the station. It's been playing the same Madonna song nonstop, and you shut off the volume when the other stations are no different. Your shift in focus takes your attention away from the airport exit, so you jump in your seat when a quiet knock sounds at your passenger side window.

He's here. Your lips curve up into a bright smile and you unlock the door, letting him get in.

"Hi," you say, your voice weaker than you'd like.

"Hey, Y//N," he replies, pushing his long hair back from his face. The simple motion sets off butterflies in your stomach and you turn back to your steering wheel to keep your emotions off your face. He could always read you so easily. "It's good to see you."

He grins at you and leans forward to give you a quick, awkward hug over the center console. You involuntarily inhale as he pulls back, and the scent of his natural musk mixed with whatever new cologne he's been wearing smells dreamy on him.

You said you were over it, you tell yourself in your head. He has a girlfriend who he's going to marry, and you are his best friend. At least you were.

You don't really know where things stand between you two now. A year is a long time to go without seeing someone, and you're sure college has changed him in similar ways that it has changed you.

"I have one more class today," you say quickly as you pull your car out of the lot. "It's criminal psychology, so I figured you wouldn't mind coming to the lecture with me."

"Sounds fun," he says, before leaning his cheek against the window to watch the scenery that zips by. "God, the weather here is crazy."

"It's definitely warmer than I'm used to," you agree, struggling not to glance over at him. "We never had 70 degree winters growing up."

"Which do you prefer?"

You grin. "Home, of course."

"Of course."

You look at him then, and his expression is one you don't understand. It's the same look he gets when he's in the library and he finds a book he's been looking for.

The drive doesn't take long, and you bring him to your lecture, where he proceeds to pay more attention to the information being presented than you do. The class usually feels too short for you, but today, the time ticks by, because you can't focus.

It's been so long since you've sat next to him in a class, and the sight of him jotting down notes on a scrap piece of paper takes you back to high school, when he was still the more attentive one.

After the lecture, you both grab a quick dinner in the dining hall and settle back into your double dorm room, which you painstakingly cleaned up before he arrived.

"So, how long have you guys been friends?" your roommate, Katy, asks him as he drops into your desk chair. You've been watching her ogle him since he arrived, and if he's still as perceptive as he was in high school, it hasn't escaped his notice either.

"Forever," he says, looking at you with a grin. "We met when we were eight. When she judged my taste in The Beatles, it was over for me."

You can't help the heat that flames in your cheeks, even though you know this story by heart. Katy keeps glancing over at you as he explains how you guys met, and eventually she gets up and flops down onto your bed next to you. "You're bringing him to the party tonight, right?"

Your eyes widen as you remember that was today. "Oh, I don't know. We might just stay in."

"You have to come!" she squeals, shaking your arm. She turns to him with a pointed look. "We already have outfits picked out."

"I guess we gotta go, then," he smiles at her, before looking at me with a small raise of his eyebrow. You okay with that?

You dip your chin into a nod, and he stands up. "I'll head out for a walk as you guys get ready."

"Sounds good!" Katy says, grabbing your hand and sliding off the bed. "We'll see you in an hour."

Once the door closes behind him, Katy turns to you, her mouth agape. "You never told me how cute he is."

"What?" you sputter, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

"You also didn't tell me you're, like, in love with him."

You scoff involuntarily, your usual diversion technique when someone brings up a topic you want to evade. "What are you talking about?"

"Okay," she shrugs, reaching into your closet and tossing you the dress you were planning to wear. "If that's how you want to play it."

You go into your attached bathroom to change into your outfit, but after seeing Hotch, the mini sundress you picked out feels like too much. You hate how much you're overthinking something as stupid as an outfit for a party.

You turn away from the mirror and go back into your dorm, where Katy is applying her signature shade of red lipstick in her little mirror stand.

"He has a serious girlfriend," you whisper, almost too quiet for her to hear you. But she is more perceptive than you give her credit for. "Like eventual marriage-serious."

"Oh, honey," she coos, patting the bench seat next to her. You scoot in until you're side by side and she wraps an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay," you shake your head, leaning on her shoulder. "I just need to get over it. It's a stupid crush that I've had since high school, but it's time. Maybe this party will help."

"Yes, exactly!" she grins, turning her head to look at you. "Nothing that a little music and a few shots can't fix."

"A few shots?" you laugh.

She nods. "Each."

~

You down another shot of whiskey before tossing your cup onto the table and following Katy onto the dance floor. She grinds against her boyfriend as you dance beside them, moving your hips side to side with the rhythm of the music.

Being in Los Angeles, the temperature outside is already warmer than it should be in November, but inside the house, your dress is sticking to your skin from the sweat and body heat surrounding you.

You're feeling the alcohol enough to have a good time even in the sweaty throng of bodies around you, and you throw your head back as you close your eyes and feel the thump of the music vibrating the floor boards.

Meanwhile, Hotch can't find you anywhere. He's drunk enough already that he knows he won't be able to find you himself, but he doesn't know anyone else here, so he grabs a half empty bottle from the drinks table and makes his way to the dance floor, where the life of the party seems to be centered.

He's usually a lot more fun at parties, but lately he hasn't felt like himself. Ever since you left for school across the country, it has felt like something in his life was wrong, like he was missing a limb. Then, things started looking up with Haley, and he pushed you away in the hopes that he would forget about any of the doubts he had, but it didn't work. The more he missed you, the worse things got in his relationship, and suddenly he wasn't sure what his life was supposed to look like anymore.

He takes another swig from the bottle and leans back against the counter as he watches people dance against each other in the dim light of the house. His eyes flicker over the mess of bodies until they catch on someone he almost doesn't recognize.

Your eyes are closed and your hands are in the air as you move to the beat. It's not exactly graceful music, but you have managed to find some semblance of a rhythm as you slide your hands down your thin dress, which is sticking to your body in a way he can't take his eyes off of.

He doesn't realize he has lifted the bottle to his lips again until the liquid is burning his throat, and he tears his eyes away from you as his head starts to spin. Maybe he's had enough for tonight. He puts the bottle down just as your roommate spots him. Katy, he thinks, or is it Sadie?

"Aaron!" she calls, stumbling over to him as a man holds her up with an arm around her waist. "Where's Y/N?"

"Not sure," he lies easily, barely conscious of the way his words have started to slur together. "I may head out soon."

"Don't leave without her," she instructs, her voice suddenly getting serious. "I'm staying with him tonight." She pats the man's arm. "So I won't be going back with her."

He nods with a resigned sigh, and slumps down on a couch in the next room, leaning his head back to stop the room from spinning.

~

When you tire of dancing, you push to the back of the crowd and look around to find any familiar face. You can't see Katy or her boyfriend anywhere, but after exiting the room, you spot Hotch asleep on the couch.

You walk forward with a slanted smile and put your hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. "Hotch, get up."

He groans, peeling his eyes open slowly. "I'm awake. Just resting my eyes."

"Yeah, yeah," you tease, looping your arm through his to help him up. "How much did you drink?"

He shrugs and you wrap your arm around his waist to hold him upright as he stumbles forward. "Whoa there. Okay, let's get you back."

You manage to get him out of the house, and once the fresh air hits, he can almost stand up straight on his own. You keep your arm around him just in case, trying to ignore the way his tee shirt is slowly riding up around his waistband.

You make the walk back in silence, and he falls back onto your bed as you lock the door behind you.

"I'm sorry," he whispers when you perch on the edge of the bed next to him.

"It's okay," you say, huffing out a laugh. He looks so young with his hair falling onto his face, and you resist the urge to push it back off his forehead. "Happens to the best of us."

"No, not that." He rolls over with a groan, flopping onto his back and scooting back so he can lay on your pillow. "I'm sorry I stopped calling."

Your heart skips a beat and you tuck your hair behind your ear, needing to occupy your hands somehow as your mind races with a million questions. "It's my fault too."

"No, it's not."

He isn't slurring his words anymore, but you can still hear the earnestness that only comes when one's filter is completely shattered. He was never one to hide things from you, but you also know how truthful people can get when alcohol takes their mask away.

"Haley and I have been having problems for a while," he mutters, making you sigh. So that's why he flew here in the middle of the school year. "We haven't been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things, and we decided to take a break, but I haven't told anyone, because the only person I wanted to tell was you."

You can't look at him. His gaze is too much, his eyes too full of truth and intensity. "Hotch-"

"I miss you so much," he says, cutting you off. "You're the only person I've ever really been able to talk to, but you know that, don't you? It's the same for you, it has to be."

You don't say anything. The air feels thick with tension, and you're afraid that if you say something, the room will explode.

"She's the perfect girlfriend," he says wistfully, his voice tight with an emotion you can't decipher. "I know it's me who's fucking it up, and I hate myself for it, because she's trying so hard to make this work. But every time it feels perfect, and I think I've finally gotten what I wanted, I just remember-"

"Aaron."

You look at him and his eyes are already staring into yours. You have wanted him to love you the way you loved him for years, but not like this. Never like this.

"You can't fuck this up," you whisper, your voice stronger than you expect it to be. "Call Haley tomorrow morning. Tell her you're sorry, and that you love her, because you do. You know you do."

"I love her," he nods as sleep pulls his eyelids down. "Tomorrow..I'll call her."

You watch him as his limbs relax and his breathing evens out, but you don't fall asleep until the sun starts to rise and you physically can't keep your eyes open anymore.

***

"Happy All Hallow's Eve, folks."

Reid pulls his mask off as Derek looks at him with a frightened frown.

"Are you scared of Halloween?" you ask him, trying to keep the grin off your face.

"I didn't say I was scared," he corrects, glancing over at Reid, who drops his mask on his desk and pushes his hair back from his face, "I said I was creeped out."

"What creeps you out about it?" Emily asks, before grinning at you.

"I bet it's the candy," you joke. "Those muscles probably cower at the sight of anything that isn't meat or protein powder."

Emily snorts and Derek frowns at both of you. "It's the masks. I don't like people in disguises."

"That's the best thing about Halloween," Reid chimes in. "You can be anyone you want to be."

Derek grins. "No, I'm pretty good just being me."

You and Emily share a look. "Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?"

"Guys," Reid suddenly calls out, his voice hushed. "He's here."

You turn around to see Hotch walking down the stairs, accompanied by Agent David Rossi, who you've heard a lot about in your years at the bureau. He was one of the founding members of the BAU, and you can't help but wonder what made him want to come back.

JJ introduces him to everyone, before Reid starts spouting off a list of facts from one of the old cases he solved when he was the chief of the unit.

"Reid, slow down," Hotch says with an uncharacteristic smile. "He'll be here for a while. Catch up with him later."

He nods. "Right, sorry."

Agent Rossi doesn't seem fazed. "No problem, Doctor."

This pleasantly surprises you. It's all too often that new people who meet Spencer don't immediately treat him with the respect he deserves.

"Let's start the briefing."

***

The flight back from Texas is hushed. The case went about as well as you could hope, with them catching the unsub and saving the final victim, but the way Rossi went rogue over and over again has rubbed you the wrong way.

You watch him across the cabin as he pores over his little notebook, and you wish you could peek inside his head. You know that the team aspect of the BAU is a newer addition to the unit, but you don't understand how he can keep all of his thoughts to himself.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Gah," you fright, jumping in your seat. "When did you sit next to me?"

Hotch shrugs, his lip quirking up. "A few minutes ago."

"Well, you should really wear a bell or something, god."

"Y/N," he says, giving you a pointed look. He doesn't let you use your evasion tactics anymore. Given your penchant for aimless talking, you suppose that's a good thing.

"I was just thinking about Rossi," you sigh, glancing up at him again. "Lying to the press to get a reaction from the unsub? Taking over that phone call? I don't like how he works, Hotch."

"He's from a different time," he says, even though you can hear the agreement in his voice, "but he worked with Gideon, and if you remember, it took you a while to warm up to him too."

You heave out a breath but it's the only concession you're willing to give in this moment.

"He's used to an older way of doing things, but he's a great agent."

"He clearly has good ideas," you whisper, "but I just worry that you'll have to work over time to keep him under control."

Hotch ponders this, and you think that maybe he knows you're right. Your eyes shift up and you realize his hair has been shorter for a while now, but you're still not used to seeing so much of his forehead. Not that there's anything wrong with his forehead. It's a fine forehead.

"He was the team leader before he retired," Hotch says suddenly. "He may be tough as a subordinate now, but I'm still glad he's back. We needed someone to fill Gideon's spot, we were low on hands."

"Speaking of, why do you think he's back."

He looks at you with a quizzical frown. "Is it really so hard to believe that he may just want to help us out?"

You think for a second, before shrugging. He laughs.

"I don't know," you concede, with a small chuckle. "I think I'm just expecting things from him that aren't fair."

He turns his body to face you. "Like what?"

You press your lips together, trying to formulate your words properly, so you can clearly articulate the tornado of thoughts in your brain. "I know Gideon wasn't a father figure exactly, but he was someone that Reid and Elle latched onto."

Hotch exhales. "I don't know if Gideon is someone I'd want as a father."

You let out a surprised laugh. "Fair enough."

"How is your father doing, by the way?"

You blink in surprise. It's not that he doesn't talk about your family, it's just that the timing is uncanny. You haven't spoken to him in months. After your mom died, you two were almost inseparable, but then you left for school, and you realized how much bigger the world could be when you weren't always bogged down by your grief. "I haven't called him in a while."

"What did he say after Golconda?" he asks, his voice gentle. After Frank, he means.

You close your eyes, guilt flooding your body. "I never told him."

"What?" You don't look at him, but you can see the shock in the stiff line of his posture. "Did something happen between you two?"

You shake your head, your protectiveness over your family flaring up at the concern in his eyes. "Nothing happened. I just didn't want to worry him."

"That's his job," Hotch stresses, scooting his leg over so his knee bumps yours. "If something like that had happened to Jack, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

"That's what I'm scared of," you tell him, your eyes flitting over to the window, where the clouds are dancing across the horizon. Sometimes, when you're on the jet, you like to pretend that the time up here isn't real. That as long as the world looks like a series of splotches and blinking lights, nothing can really hurt you. "My mom's death nearly killed him. I learned to cook when I was ten, because he couldn't leave his room for a month." Hotch knows all of this already, but he lets you vocalize your thoughts, obviously knowing how badly you need reassurance for the guilt you're feeling. "Then, when Jeff died, I stayed with him for a few weeks to have some company, but...but.. I was so glad when I left, because then I could finally let myself fall apart."

He reaches under the armrest and clasps your hand in his, extending the comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I've never told anyone that," you whisper, feeling your voice tighten with tears. "I love my dad, I love him so much, but I just needed the chance to recover on my own."

"He loves you too," Hotch says, finally breaking his silence. "You know he loves you. I still remember the themed sandwich baggies that he packed your lunch with all through middle school."

You choke out a laugh. "You would always steal the Spiderman ones."

He smiles, squeezing your hand once. "Maybe you just need to give him another chance to be who you want him to be. He might just surprise you."

You know he's right. Somehow, he's always right.

You nod, flashing him a small smile, and lean your head on his shoulder as the clouds float past your window.

***

He glances at his watch for the tenth time since he sat down in his office. The plane landed just over an hour ago, and he sent you home immediately with the instruction to get some rest. He probably should have gone home too, but ever since he got his new apartment, home hasn't felt the same.

He used to be able to look around any corner and see a memory: the couch where he and Haley made love on their first night at home, the soft carpet where Jack took his first steps, the doorframe where he measured his height on his first birthday as Haley held him up by the arms. He also remembers that he wasn't there to see Jack's first steps; he was in Pittsburgh, working a case and thanking his lucky stars that Haley had had the foresight to take a photo as his son stood upright all by himself.

He lifts the picture frame from the edge of his desk, running his fingers over the cool glass and looking at the blue drawing underneath. Jack had drawn his favorite cartoon character and left it for him on the kitchen table, a few nights before his suspension went into effect.

Putting it back down, he looks at the photograph of him holding onto Haley as she clutches newborn Jack to her chest in the hospital. He still has the photo of just him and her on their wedding, but he pushed it to the back, behind the pictures of Jack, and the one of you and him at law school graduation.

A knock sounds at his door and he looks up to see Dave standing in his doorway. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," he says, waving him in. He doesn't sit down, so Hotch stands up too, unsure of how he feels about the power imbalance in the room. "What can I do for you?"

"You said out there, 'The team shares everything.'"

He nods. "That's right."

"There is no 'I'?"

He nods again, not liking where this may be going.

Dave glances down at his desk, where his phone sits next to the picture frame of his family. "Seems a big thing to withhold. Separating from your wife, your child."

He freezes, unconsciously looking at the door to see if anyone heard. "What are you talking about?"

"You used to call Haley 10 times a day," Dave says, his voice not unkind. "We've been together 48 hours and I haven't seen you call her once. You haven't mentioned her, and you're not going home now."

He frowns, feeling his brow settle into place like it's a uniform he wears whenever he's at the office. "What's your point?"

"I guess you're just not used to sharing."

He doesn't say anything, but Rossi seems to interpret this the wrong way. "Or maybe it's something else." He looks out the window at the empty bullpen, but the implication is still clear. "Was it because of...?"

"What?" He doesn't know where this is coming from, but he can't stop the anger that rumbles through him at the connotation. Unable to help it, he looks down at your desk, and Dave tuts.

"I won't say anything."

"Dave," he shakes his head, trying to remain calm. "You have it all wrong. She's my best friend...since we were children. It isn't like that. It was never-"

It was never like that. That's what he's about to say, but that wouldn't be true. Rossi is a good enough profiler that he would be able to spot a lie from a mile away, so he shuts his mouth and shakes his head again. "It's not like that."

"Okay," he accepts, lifting his hands in surrender. "My mistake."

Hotch nods, and Dave leaves his office, but he can't get their conversation out of his head until later that night when his head hits his pillow and his eyes finally fall shut.

***

"Hey, Dad."

You called him when you got home from work that night, and he answered on the second ring. "Hi, sweetheart."

"How are you?" you ask, clutching the phone to your ear as you sink down onto the couch in your living room.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and you can hear him taking a breath. "I'm good, Y/N, how are you? Is work going well?"

"It's good," you tell him. "Really good. We were able to save a woman today, before the unsub could kill her."

"Unsub?"

"Unknown subject," you explain, quickly realizing just how long it's been since you've spoken to him. "It's what we call the bad guy before we know who he is."

"Right," he says, and you can practically see him rubbing a hand over his face, his nervous tic. "I knew that. Anyway, how is everything in your life? Do you still work with Aaron?"

"Yeah, I do," you say with a laugh. "He was actually asking about you earlier today."

"That's nice of him," your dad says, his voice brightening slightly. "He was always a good friend to you."

You tell him about your most recent case, and about Gideon and Elle leaving the team, but eventually you can't evade the topic you've been trying to avoid all night.

You're okay, you think to yourself. Frank can't hurt you anymore.

"Dad," you whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. In 1, 2, 3. Out 1, 2, 3. "I have something to tell you."

Then you tell him everything, and he just listens, exactly like you hoped he would.

***

"I met this guy." You didn't even see Penelope approach you, but here she is, looking at you like she's about to say something dirty.

"Hell yeah," you grin, trying to match her energy. "Where?"

"A coffee shop," she smirks. "He was having trouble with his computer, so I fixed it for him, and then he asked for my number."

"Look at you," you joke, giving her a side squeeze, "putting your technical analyst skills to good use."

"Thank you," she huffs, throwing an annoyed glance over her shoulder. "That's more of the response I was looking for."

"What do you mean?"

"Derek," she says simply, and you nod, already knowing where she's going with this. You know they have an uncommon relationship, so you're not surprised that he didn't react exactly how she hoped he would.

"He's an idiot," you tell her, patting her arm.

She laughs. "You don't even know what he did."

"Uh, yeah," you say, turning around to face the bullpen, "I definitely do."

***

The case takes the team to Florida, where an unsub has been feeding women their fingers, killing them, and then carving pentagrams in their skin.

The pentagrams suggest a religious element, so you go with JJ, Morgan, and Rossi to the local church to meet with the priest.

"Rossi, do me a favor," Morgan says just before you walk inside. "You talk to the priest, all right?"

You remember his agitation on the jet when Reid prodded him about his beliefs, and given the cruelty of his childhood, a crisis of faith wouldn't surprise you.

"Hi, Father Marks," JJ greets the priest when you enter the church. She introduces all of you to him, before shaking his hand. "We're sorry we have to be here under these circumstances."

"It's good of you to come," he says, greeting all of you. "Abbey's parents are upstairs in my office."

"We'll go up," Rossi says with a nod, "but Agent Morgan actually has some questions for you."

Your eyes flash to Rossi, but he doesn't return your gaze.

"I have some questions too," you offer, and Derek nods gratefully.

The priest answers the few questions Derek spits out at him, and you watch as his eyes wander around the hall, his shoulders raised with tension. You insert a few of your own questions before heading outside with him to wait for JJ and Rossi to finish up with the victim's parents.

"What happened in there?" you ask when he doesn't meet your eye. "Being rude to Father Marks? That wasn't like you."

"You know what happened to me, L/N," he says angrily, kicking his foot out at a loose stone on the pavement. "I went to church everyday, and I prayed for it to stop, but you know what God did? Nothing."

"I know what a crisis of faith looks like, Derek." You stand in front of him, forcing him to look at you. "But Father Marks doesn't know your story. He's not judging you, he's just showing his faith how he knows best."

His shoulders are still tense as his jaw twitches. "Who does Rossi think he is, throwing me under the bus like that?"

"He's an instigator," you shrug, letting the topic slide for the time being. You'll talk to him again later if he still needs it.

"I didn't love the way Gideon did things either," Derek says, his posture going from agitation to annoyance, "but Rossi might just take the cake. Even if he is better with the victim's families."

"I can't help you there," you almost laugh. "I had the same conversation with Hotch after the case in Texas, and he managed to convince me to give the guy a chance. So...if you can't bring yourself to trust him, just think of it as putting your trust in Hotch."

Derek hums, bumping your shoulder with his. "I guess I can do that."

***

The search party for Tracey Lambert only leads to the unsub taking another woman, and suddenly the ticking clock gets a lot louder. By the time you find his lair and the bodies he has been cannibalizing for years, you're already struggling to keep down even the water you've been drinking. When he reveals where Tracey actually is, you feel so sick, you can't breathe.

When the jet lands back in Virginia, you go home immediately, desperately needing some peace and quiet away from the team for the first time in a while. But that doesn't last long.

You're awoken by the shrill ringing of your home phone. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you check the number and answer the phone. "Is this payback for the last time I called you past midnight?"

"Y/N...it's Garcia."

You shoot up into a sitting position as Hotch explains what happened. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know."

"I'm on my way."

You change into a sweater and a pair of loose jeans before grabbing your keys and flying out the door.

"She's in surgery," JJ tells you when you find them in the waiting room. She pulls you into a hug before returning to her hunched position in an uncomfortable vinyl chair.

"There's no other word," Hotch adds, giving you a quick hug as well. With his cheek pressed against your temple, he whispers, "Police think it may have been a botched robbery."

"Where's Morgan?" Emily asks, standing up from her chair.

"He's not answering his cell."

Reid nods, stepping away. "I'll call him again."

He squeezes your hand before he exits the waiting area, and you glance down at JJ again. Her eyes are red from crying, and her chin is pressed into her palm as she stares at the floor. You watch as Emily sits next to her and pats her hand, before clasping it in hers.

You don't realize you've been staring at the same spot on the floor until Hotch stands next to you and nudges your shoulder. You okay?

"I will be," you say out loud, barely registering that he didn't actually ask you anything. "As soon as she's out of surgery." When you got the call that Penelope was shot, you had been hit by an intense feeling of deja vu. Only this time, the call didn't come from bureau leadership, because she wasn't killed at the scene. Because she's going to make it.

He doesn't seem fazed as he checks his watch again, his frown lines deepening. "It shouldn't take this long to get an update."

"Where have you been?" Reid asks suddenly. You look up to see Derek walking into the waiting room, his eyes wide with panic.

"I was in church. My phone was off."

"There's nothing you could have been doing here," Rossi assures him, before nodding at Hotch and pulling him aside to discuss something with the deputies outside. You use the momentary lull to approach Derek, putting your hand on his arm as an initial test. When he doesn't jerk back, you pull him into a hug that he returns gratefully.

The doctor walks in a few minutes later and explains that Penelope will be fine, but she needs to rest until the morning.

"David and I will go to the scene," Hotch informs, his eyes fixing each of you with an empathetic look. "I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially, or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

When they leave, you pull Derek down into the chair next to you and lean your head onto his shoulder. After a beat, he relaxes in his seat, and lets out a long sigh. "She's okay."

***

Early the next morning, the doctor shakes you all awake with the notice that Penelope's up, so you rush into her room, trying not to crowd her as she blinks awake.

"Hi," she says softly, her voice small. She looks so innocent, laying in her hospital bed with her blonde hair a halo around her head. You can't imagine how anyone would want to hurt someone like her.

"No tears," she smiles as you swallow down your anger. "I'm afraid if I start crying, I'll come unstapled."

JJ presses a kiss to her cheek, before Derek and Emily start gently plying her with the usual questions. When it comes out that the man who shot her was the same man who asked her out at the coffee shop, your anger turns to anguish, and you reach forward to squeeze Penelope's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"I just thought he liked me," she whispers, the pain in her voice breaking your heart.

"We need a name," Emily asks abruptly. You can see her mentally kicking herself at how serious her words came out, but you know Penelope understands the gravity of this situation.

"James Colby Baylor."

She asks you and JJ to stay back for a second as the rest of the team leaves to investigate Baylor.

"What's up, honey?" you ask, smiling at her sweetly as she uses her other hand to take JJ's.

"I feel so stupid," she sighs, her breath turning into a gasp as tears fill her eyes. "Maybe Derek was right about all of it."

"No," JJ says sternly, reaching forward to brush some of her hair behind her ear. "None of this is on you."

"What she said," you echo, nodding at JJ, "and don't listen to Morgan. He loves you, and he's very protective over you, but he's also a man."

She sniffles out a laugh, before pressing her lips together. "One last thing."

JJ blinks. "Anything."

"Please don't talk about me like I'm a victim."

***

The case wraps up back at the office, where Baylor, whose real name is Deputy Battle, was shot in the head by JJ, who doesn't seem as plussed by the situation as you would expect. You tried to talk to her afterwards, but after telling you she was fine, she put all of her attention on Penelope, who has spent the last week recovering at home.

Now, you're sitting in the break room stirring your black coffee, just for something to do. Hotch finds you in there and walks inside, shutting the door behind him.

"It's been a long week," he grumbles, looking longingly at the spot next to you on the worn couch.

You lift your cup and nod your head at the full coffee pot. "That's what caffeine's for."

"We really should sleep at some point," he says, filling up a paper cup and carefully dropping into the spot beside you. The couch you chose is small enough that his thigh presses against yours when he spreads his legs even the slightest bit.

You snort. "Sleep's overrated."

You both sip your steaming coffees in silence as you watch the other agents shuffle back and forth across the bullpen, unaware of your watchful eyes. The break room is the one place in the office to go for a little bit of privacy, but the unobstructed view of everyone's desks isn't unpleasant either. You imagine this is how Hotch feels when he looks out his office window.

Your eye catches on the stapled wood planks that are currently replacing the broken glass door that leads into the bullpen. He must be looking at the same thing, because he breaks the silence and says, "I think we may need to get JJ out into the field more."

His tone catches you off guard and you crack a small smile. "She does seem remarkably well-adjusted, given that it was her first time."

He nods, turning his head to look at you. "Do you remember your first time?" Killing someone, is the part he doesn't say out loud.

"Of course." You take a deep breath and gulp back more coffee. "He was a serial rapist in Texas. One shot to the heart. I wasn't trying to kill him, he just ran at the last second."

"Serial killer in Florida," he responds simply. "Headshot. He died instantly."

"That was your first year at the BAU, right?" He nods and you sink back into the cushions. "I wasn't even in the field then."

He hums, a low sound that you feel as vibrations on your skin. "I worry that I brought you in here too early. Jeff had just died, and I assumed that getting you out of the house and in the field would take your mind off of things, but I wonder sometimes if I made the wrong call."

"You didn't," you assure him, turning your body to face his, even as he doesn't meet your eye. "First of all, you brought me in six months after he died, and by then, I definitely needed an excuse to leave my bedroom."

He sighs, a small concession, and you continue. "The first case I went into the field for after he died, I could barely hold my gun. Every time I pulled it on someone, I would imagine his body...with all of those bullet holes...and I would just freeze up. It took me months to pass my firearm certification again, but I still don't regret it."

"You sure?" he asks, his voice almost timid.

"Positive," you smile, nudging your thigh against his. "Besides, I didn't realize it until later, but it wasn't getting out into the field that helped me through my grief...it was meeting the team. These people became my family in the moment that I needed one most."

You turn back to your coffee and sip it again, though it's no longer as hot as you'd like it to be.

"How are you doing, by the way?" he asks suddenly. "With Garcia, I mean."

An involuntary shudder runs through you as you remember her pale face in her hospital bed last week, but the warmth of the coffee cup in your hands makes it pass quickly. "I'll never get used to it. But she's okay now, so hopefully it'll be easier this time."

***

You're jotting down notes in the margins of a new case file JJ asked you to look over when your cell phone rings. Hotch and Reid are at a nearby prison, interviewing a serial killer on death row for the Criminal Personality Research Project, so you're not expecting a call from either of them. The rest of the team, except for Rossi, is scattered around the bullpen, but you don't expect him to call you either.

After finishing the line you were writing, you check your phone and see a name you haven't spoken to in weeks.

"Haley," you answer after clicking open your cell. "Is everything okay?"

"I know you're busy," she sighs, her voice tight with what you can only decipher as irritation, "but I didn't know who else to call. Aaron hasn't been answering my phone calls."

You get up from your desk and step out into the hallway to get some privacy. "He and Dr. Reid are at a prison right now, interviewing a criminal for this research project. There likely isn't any cell service out there."

"It's not just today, Y/N," she says, her tone getting colder as she inadvertently directs her anger towards the only person she can get ahold of. "He hasn't been taking my calls for days."

"I can talk to him," you suggest, trying to keep your tone light in an effort to keep this conversation from derailing. "I'll tell him to give you a call."

"I appreciate that," she sighs, losing her steam. "I'm sorry for involving you, I just really need to speak with him about something."

"Is everything alright with you and Jack?" you ask her quickly, wanting to make sure that you aren't making the wrong assumptions about why she's calling.

"Oh!" she inhales sharply. "Yes, of course, we're doing great. Well, great maybe isn't the right word, I didn't mean- I just-" She sighs. "You know what I mean."

"I do," you assure her as your heart twists at the sound of her shallow breathing. You know how hard the separation has been on Hotch, but you know Haley too, and she has always been better at hiding her pain that she seems. "Where have you been staying?"

"With Jess," she says, her voice brightening considerably at the mention of her sister. "She's been a godsend. I feel terrible taking up so much of her space, but she doesn't seem to mind."

You smile, remembering the few times you met Jessica Brooks while Haley and Hotch were together. "She definitely doesn't mind. She always loved children. I bet she's already scheming on how to steal Jack from you."

Haley laughs, and the sound is like wind chimes twinkling in your ear. "She totally is."

Her laughter slowly fades, and you both stay on the line for a few moments in comfortable silence.

"I'll tell him to call you," you promise.

"I know," she sighs. "Thank you."

***

The prison was a bust, but Reid got a chance to use his intelligence to get them out of a tough spot without anyone getting hurt, so the day wasn't a total loss.

He is sitting in his office, drafting an email to the project coordinator, when you walk inside and take a seat in front of his desk.

"Thanks for knocking," he says sarcastically before finishing up the sentence he was working on. Once it's done, he saves the draft and turns off his computer. "How was Indianapolis?"

"Good," you say, leaning back in the chair. "Great, actually. Rossi got to close up the case that's been haunting him for a decade, and the three kids are finally safe."

"I'm surprised he wasn't more excited when he got back," he notes, watching your body language. You look wired, but not about this. Something else is bothering you.

"The unsub wasn't exactly the most gratifying arrest," you sigh, rubbing a hand over your temple. "We don't even think he committed the murders intentionally."

He frowns, shaking his head. "Those are the worst kind."

You're silent for a moment before you sit up straighter and look at him. "Haley called me this morning. While you were at the prison."

"Oh?" Something that feels like ice slithers down his spine even though he can probably guess exactly how the conversation went.

All week, he has felt an enormous weight on his chest in the form of a stack of divorce papers that Haley served him with. She had called him right after, with the explanation that they both should have seen this coming, but he really hadn't. He was a profiler, whose entire job was to notice and analyze human behavior, and he truly hadn't been able to let himself believe that this could be a possibility. That his marriage could actually be over.

"She said you've been ignoring her calls."

He had been ignoring them. He knew she would just tell him to sign the papers, and he couldn't bear to hear her say it again. Once was enough.

He reaches into his desk and pulls out the manila folder that he hasn't opened since his initial read-through. He suspects you already know what he's about to tell you, but he also knows that it won't feel real until he says it out loud. And it's about time he came to terms with what his life would be from now on. "Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers, uncontested."

"She doesn't want to involve a lawyer?" you ask, your voice delicate as you walk him through the explanation with clarifying questions. It's the technique they use when interviewing the families of victims, to help them feel comfortable as they talk about the hardest thing they've ever gone through. He's surprised at how reassuring it feels coming from you.

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. It has grown out a bit since he last cut it, but he doesn't think he minds. Haley wanted him to cut it short when Jack was in his grabbing and teething phase, but now, he likes how he can push it back when he wants. "I don't want to sign, of course, but she's adamant that we get this done soon."

"You'll be okay," you say, and he looks up in surprise. "You're a good man, Aaron."

"I'm not," he whispers, heaving out a sigh. "I'm not doing anything right. At home, I was an awful husband and an absent father, and at work, Strauss would replace me if she had even the slightest bit more ammunition. I can't focus in either place. Maybe Haley's right, maybe I'm just selfish."

You lean forward and grab his hand, even as he doesn't look at you. "You're not selfish. You're the farthest thing from selfish. You don't want to sign, but you will. You're giving her what she wants, even though it's the last thing you want."

He nods, but his heart isn't in it. He glances down at the folder again and takes a deep breath as you give him a small smile and stand up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, boss?"

He nods again. "See you tomorrow."

When the door shuts behind you, he flips open the folder, faster than he meant to, but he's afraid if he doesn't do this quickly he'll lose his nerve. Grabbing a random pen from the mug on his desk, he uncaps it and scrawls out his initials on all of the earmarked lines throughout the stack.

When he finishes the last page, he shuts the folder and leans back in his chair, letting out a long exhale. He did it. He supposes he should feel some sort of severing away of his old life, maybe an audible snap as the ties to his marriage get cut, but there's just silence.

His office suddenly feels stifling, and he loosens his tie before reaching forward and lifting the picture frame with him and Haley on their wedding day. Her smile still looks beautiful to him, and his content expression as he gazes at her doesn't make him feel anything different. Their marriage may be over, but he still loved her.

He runs his thumb over the smooth edge of the frame, and then opens his desk drawer, before sticking it inside and pushing it closed.

***

"Thank you for watching him," Hotch says, his voice slightly muffled over the phone.

"Of course," you smile, sitting down on your couch with the pasta you made for dinner. "It was my pleasure. Jack's a total sweetheart."

Jess was out of town for a couple of days, so he had asked you to watch Jack while he and Haley met up to finalize the divorce in front of an attorney. She had been adamant about finishing the process over the phone, but he wanted to ensure that she and Jack would be taken care of after the papers went through.

"Did he eat lunch?"

"Kind of," you say, quickly swallowing the bite you took. "He didn't want a full meal, but I got him to eat some fruit and bread with cheese."

"I'll make him a snack soon," he says quietly, but you can tell he's just thinking out loud. "Alright, I'll see you at the office. Thanks again."

"Always," you tell him, genuinely. "See you."

The phone clicks off and you scarf down the rest of your pasta before doing your dirty dishes and cleaning up your kitchen. You're considering whether to change into your workout clothes so you can crank out a few miles on your Peloton, but then you hear a knock on your door.

You're not expecting anyone, and with Hotch watching Jack, it can't be him. You peek around the corner into your foyer to see who's at the door, and relax when you spot a familiar mop of brown hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first," Spencer says when you open the door, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his book bag. "I just didn't know how to ask you this over the phone."

"Spence, what is it?" you ask, opening the door further to let him in. He doesn't step forward, and a pinprick of anxiety enters your system.

"If I come inside, I won't be able to do this," he says vaguely, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a flyer. He hands it to you and you read the title, the tension seeping from your body as the words sink in: Narcotics Anonymous for Law Enforcement.

"I know it's a lot to ask," he whispers, "but would you drive me to the meeting tonight?"

Your heart feels like it's about to crack open. Only a boy who was never looked after, never given the love and care he deserved, would think that something like this was too much to ask.

"It's not too much," you tell him, glancing down at the address. "I'll get my keys."

When he's settled in your passenger seat, you pull out of the driveway, not commenting on the fact that his car is parked on the street beside your sidewalk. You understand the need for company more than most people.

The drive to the rec center where the meeting is being held is mostly silent, but you don't press him. He stares down at his hands for most of the ride, and when you stop in front of the entrance, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you. "Thank you."

"Of course," you smile. "I can wait, if you'd like."

He gives you a thin-lipped smile. "It's okay."

"You sure?"

He presses his lips together and looks at you, his eyes reflecting the question in yours.

"Go on," you say, patting his arm. "I'll be here."

He nods and steps out of your car, and you pull into a parking space to wait in while he's in the meeting. You turn on the radio and it's the same song they've been playing for the last week, so you turn the volume down low and close your eyes for a few peaceful moments.

You must have fallen asleep, because you're jarred awake by the chirping sound of your cell phone ringing. It's a bureau number, so you clear your throat and answer the call. "L/N."

"Hey, Y/N." It's JJ, and she sounds tired. "We have a case. It's urgent, so we're flying to Texas tonight."

You sigh louder than you meant to. "I can be there in 20."

"See you soon."

The line clicks off and you rub the sleep from your eyes. A quick check of your watch tells you that you were only asleep for about a half hour, but that's just half of the meeting time. You know Spencer will come back when he gets the call, so you turn the radio off and sit up in your seat.

A few minutes later, he returns to the car. You saw him just over 30 minutes ago, but he already looks lighter than he did when he got to your house.

"I'm proud of you, Spence," you tell him as you start the car.

He nods, a quick thanks. "This federal agent gave me his one year medallion after I left the meeting. I've only been clean for 10 months, but he still gave it to me."

"He believes in you," you say simply, glancing over at his confused expression.

"He doesn't even know me."

You shrug. "You don't have to really know someone to care about them, Spencer. You just have to see something of yourself in them."

"Is that what you see in me?" he asks, finally looking at you.

You consider this for a moment. Is that why you feel so protective over him?

"I don't know," you say eventually, not wanting to lie, even by accident. "I definitely wasn't as smart as you were, or as focused. I wasn't all that driven in high school at all, to be honest. I was lucky to have Hotch. He gave me the push I needed to get out there and focus on school."

He's silent for a minute and you worry you may have said something wrong. Then: "I didn't have anyone in school." He pauses for a beat, before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. "I was in the library one day, and this girl comes up to me, and she tells me that Alexa Isben wants to meet me behind the field house. Alexa Isben was, like...easily the prettiest girl in school."

You frown, already not liking where this story is going. "Did she not show up?"

"No, she was there." His voice sounds almost resigned, but there's a note of something darker underneath. Something raw and painful, that likely still hurts after all these years. "But so was the entire football team. They stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post. So many kids were there, you know, just watching."

"No one stopped them?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I begged them to, but they just...they just watched. Then finally they got bored and they left." He clears his throat, and the sound is small, like a little boy's. "It was like midnight when I finally got home. And my mom didn't...Mom was having one of her episodes, so she didn't even realize I was late."

"You never told her what happened?"

He shakes his head. "I never told anybody. I thought it was one of those things that I thought if I didn't talk about it, I'd just forget. But I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You don't need an eidetic memory for that, Spence," you whisper, trying to stay focused on the road even as his words swirl into your memories and create an agonizing hurricane of emotions. "I was only ten years old when my mom was killed, but I can still remember every moment of her funeral."

The field office comes into view and you push forward as you scan your badge and slide into a parking spot below the upper garage. When the car is in park, you undo your seatbelt and turn to him. "I know how hard it can be to push away the painful memories, but there's something more important that I need you to remember."

"Remember what?"

He looks at you then, and you reach forward to squeeze his hand. "You're not alone anymore."

***

"Is it always this hot?" You look up at the beating sun through your shaded sunglasses and fan your face with both of your hands.

"Every day, all day," Emily huffs, running her fingers through her bangs to unstick them from her forehead.

Everyone is sweltering in the Miami heat, but then Derek gets off the plane with a wide grin, his skin glistening in the sun, and you resist the urge to throw your bag at him. "South Beach, baby."

He immediately shuts up when he spots the stunning Miami PD detective who called your team in for the recent string of murders. JJ shoots you a smirk before introducing her to the team. "Detective Lopez. We spoke on the phone."

"Tina," she corrects, before shaking her hand. "Thank you for coming down so quickly."

"Hey," Emily says from beside you, making you turn to see what she's looking at. "Isn't that..."

You spot the person she's referring to, and your face splits into a big smile. "Detective LaMontagne!"

"He's here to ID the cop they pulled from the bay last night," Tina explains.

You don't miss the flush in JJ's cheeks as she shakes his hand. "Detective, good to see you."

"How are you?" you ask, giving him a quick hug that he returns.

"Yeah, Charlie Luvet and I worked together for seven years."

Derek frowns. "Sorry for your loss, man."

Tina looks confused, and you don't blame her. "So, you all know each other?"

"Professionally," JJ is quick to add. Will whips around to look at her, and you turn to Emily with an eyebrow raise, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. You aren't sure why she won't just admit that they've been together since New Orleans, but that's her business.

***

You join JJ and Will at the IDing of Officer Luvet, and you keep your distance as he glances down at the body and affirms the report.

"Yeah, that's him."

JJ looks like she wants to comfort him, but instead she sticks to the professional approach. "If you need help making arrangements, liaising with families is part of what I do."

Will nods, his voice choking up slightly. "I might just take you up on that. Excuse me, I'll be outside."

When he steps outside of the coroner's office, you can't help but notice the longing look on JJ's face as she watches him go.

"Let's go," she says to you softly, her eyes still on the door. You follow her outside, but by then Will is nowhere to be found.

"It's okay, you know," you blurt out. You weren't really planning on talking to her about this, but sometimes your mouth takes over before your brain can catch up. "I know you worry that being around a band of profilers all the time makes you vulnerable."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she says simply, not quite meeting your eye.

"JJ," you say seriously, trying to convey your pure intentions. "If you keep trying to hide it, you'll lose him."

She purses her lips, and you squeeze her forearm, hoping you aren't pushing past her boundaries. The whole team is sparing with details about their personal lives, but you like to think that you're someone people feel comfortable sharing things with.

"I know you, hon." You flash her a knowing smile, feeling a shot of satisfaction as her lip twitches. "I know that it's enough for you to know that you care about something, but it's not enough for everyone."

She exhales, tucking her hair behind her ears. "He's upset with me, but I don't know what to do. I'm still scared."

You sigh, understanding her predicament, but still wanting her to push past it. "You can let yourself be happy, JJ. You won't always get hurt."

She nods before glancing around the room again, searching for Will even though he's long gone. It's an instinct you recognize.

Later, when JJ finally acknowledges their relationship by pulling him in for a kiss at the police station, you can't help but take it as a win.

***

Your house feels emptier than usual when you get back from Miami. Seeing JJ and Will find each other again reminded you of how much you miss having someone to share your life with.

Deciding to take a night to yourself, you pop open a bottle of red, and pour yourself a glass, which you swirl around before taking a sip. It's drier than you tend to go for, and when you check the label, you realize that's because you didn't buy it.

How can you drink this stuff?

It makes me feel sophisticated.

Jeff would break out the fancy glassware every chance he got, because he didn't believe in special occasions. He used to say that people waste precious moments of their life waiting for the right occasion to come around.

The memory feels warm in the back of your mind, and you take another sip of wine before walking over to your cupboard and grabbing the fanciest wine glass you can find. You pour the rest of your wine into the new glass and place the other in the sink, before swirling it around again. No time like the present.

You bring the glass to the couch with you, where you turn on the television and skip through the first few channels. As the wine in your glass depletes, the loneliness sets back in. You're about to pour yourself another pity glass when your phone buzzes with a call from Hotch.

"Do your television channels suck as much as mine do?"

You smile, muting the television and pressing the phone to your ear. "Definitely not."

He chuffs. "I guess I'm not used to the new tv controls."

Right, his new apartment. After the papers were finalized, he gave the house to Haley and moved into a new place ten minutes away.

"We can share mine," you say, listening to the sounds of his breath over the receiver. "I also have wine."

That gets a laugh. "I'll be there in 15."

You hear a knock on your door exactly 14 minutes later. When you open it, you're greeted with the sight of Hotch in a tee shirt and jeans. "A little underdressed, aren't we?"

He snorts, taking the wine glasses from your hands and following you into the family room. "What are we watching?"

"You're the one with the broken tv," you grin, flopping down on the couch and taking your glass from him. "What do you want to watch?"

He thinks for a minute, before his eyes sparkle with an idea. You cut him off before he can suggest what you already know he will. "We are not watching Top Gun again, Hotch!"

"You asked," he shrugs, hiding his smile behind a sip of wine. "What do you want to watch, then?"

You can see him watching you over the rim of his glass, so you blurt out the first name that comes to your mind. "Footloose."

He looks at you blankly for a moment, before his brow twitches, and your jaw drops. "You haven't seen Footloose?!"

"It came out when we were in high school," he groans, taking one of the throw pillows off the couch and stuffing it behind his back. "Terminator and Dune came out that same year. I remember because you tried to get me to watch it then too."

"It's an amazing movie!" you exclaim, standing up to go dig through your movie cabinet. "We're watching it right now."

He groans and sinks back into the pillows as you find the DVD and start the movie. You've seen it at least a dozen times, mostly because it makes you nostalgic for your teenage years, but the opening still gets you excited.

As the movie plays, you keep glancing over at Hotch, trying to see if he's enjoying the scenes just as much as you did on your first watch. To his credit, he watches the movie faithfully, without checking his phone or straying from the television screen.

"Enough," he grumbles suddenly, startling you.

"What?" you question, whipping your head around to face the screen.

"I'm watching the movie," he huffs, fixing you with a pointed look. "You don't have to keep checking."

You frown, hugging a pillow to your chest. "I wasn't checking, I just like seeing people's reactions to my favorite movies."

"Either way."

You groan, reaching out to thwack his arm.

"Eyes on the screen," he berates you, pointing at the TV. "The dance scene is starting."

You sip your wine bitterly as you try to resist the urge to glance over at him. Eventually, the movie takes over your attention and soon it's the final town council scene where Kevin Bacon gives a speech to the whole town.

"'There was a time for this law'," you quote along with the movie, "'but not anymore.'"

The movie comes to an end, and you click the remote to turn off the television. When you turn to Hotch with an excited grin, you're surprised to see that he has fallen asleep.

His head has fallen to the side, resting on the armrest, and he looks so peaceful with his expression completely neutral. His characteristic frown is nowhere to be seen as he snores quietly through his nose.

Your lips curve into a smile as you stand up and grab a blanket from a basket beside the couch. You drape it over his body, being careful not to wake him, and take the wine glasses to the sink before heading up for bed.

***

"That's because you pick horses the same way you practice law."

You hold your breath as he glances into the crowd for a brief second.

"...by always taking the long shot."

Emily snickers under her breath, and you see even Reid crack a smile as the lawyer starts floundering. The rest of the day in court goes by quickly and you all wait for Hotch in the hallway of the courthouse as he finishes up inside.

"That was impressive," you grin, nudging his shoulder as he walks alongside you. "I can't believe that was my first time seeing you in full prosecutor mode."

"Hardly," he says, rolling his eyes lightly. "I was called to give testimony, it's very different."

"I'm just surprised that prosecutor is still walking after how hard you hit him." He shoots you a look and you raise your hands in surrender. "Metaphorically, of course."

"That was a straight knock out." Derek comes up behind you and throws an arm around your shoulder as he spins you both to face Hotch. "The crowd practically cheered when you cleaned the floor with him."

"Thank you," he concedes, flashing his eyes at you. "Now let's get back to work. We still have to get more evidence for the rest of the trial."

And just like that, everyone switches back into work mode. Derek drops his arm and jogs forward to catch up to Rossi and Spencer, while Emily calls Garcia to get the latest update.

Using the moment of solitude, you bump his shoulder again. "Do you ever wish you were still a prosecutor? Your life would certainly be a lot simpler."

He shakes his head, the answer coming quickly and firmly. "I couldn't do it then, and I still couldn't now. Seeing the murderers come in after they've finished killing...I needed to know I could stop them before they were done."

His sentiment sounds familiar. Your mind flashes back to the little boy who took matters into his own hands, because no one could stop the pain for him.

You blink and it's present day again. You loved your best friend who fought his own battles without asking for help, and, even though he's vastly different, you love your best friend as he is now.

***

"Five shootings in two weeks."

"It's about time we got the call."

The whole team, plus Garcia, flies up to New York, where an unsub has been shooting people around the city, seemingly at random.

"Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office," Hotch explains, glancing down at his cell phone. "She's running point on the case and called me directly."

You have heard of her, which isn't too surprising, but all you know is that she's British and seems to be very good at her job.

"You know her?" Morgan asks him, echoing your thoughts.

Hotch nods. "We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard."

They liaised. You don't know what that implies, but you also know that he and Haley didn't take a single break during their relationship after graduating college, so it can't be anything too personal.

JJ and Emily share a look, but you don't engage with them, instead looking back at the case file and trying to focus on any of the words that aren't 'Kate Joyner'.

***

"Kate."

A pretty blonde woman approaches you all with a smile only for Hotch. "Aaron. How have you been?"

He nods. "Well, thank you. This is my team." He introduces each of you to her, but you don't miss how her eyes linger on you when he mentions your name.

"Thanks for being here," she says, before walking you all through the background of the case. Shootings in different precincts, seemingly random, FBI only brought in after the fourth murder.

After explaining the details and introducing you to the local detectives on the case, she pulls Hotch aside for a private word in her office. You turn back to the team, trying not to let your gaze linger on them as they walk away.

The NYPD doesn't seem happy that SSA Joyner has taken over their case, but even though she comes off as a bit brusque, you can tell she cares about catching this unsub just as much as they do.

"What's your partner's problem?" Reid asks Detective Cooper, the only local officer who has made an effort to meet any of you.

"We're glad the FBI was brought in," he explains with a heavy sigh, "but all of a sudden Joyner's taking meetings with the mayor and calling in you all without us knowing anything about it."

You can understand his hesitation, but you also need his cooperation if you're going to get anything done here.

"We're only here to help," Emily tells him as you turn around to find JJ.

"Has Garcia gotten settled in with the New York tech analyst?" you ask once you find her staring at a map of the various boroughs. She doesn't answer immediately, so you nudge her shoulder. "JJ?"

"Huh?" she startles. "Oh, sorry, yeah. She called a few minutes ago, she's all good."

JJ is usually the focused one who brings you back on track, so you're surprised by how distracted she seems. You nod in acknowledgement, scrutinizing her expression for another second, before heading back to the team. Your eyes involuntarily dart over to Kate's office, and you notice how close together she and Hotch are. You're about to avert your eyes when their body language becomes a bit clearer: each time she leans in to say something, he subtly pulls back.

The dynamic of their relationship is suddenly apparent, and you mentally kick yourself for daring to assume the worst when he first mentioned her. You can't say the same for your opinion of her, though. He's still wearing his ring, for God's sake. Based on how little you've heard about her from him (nothing, you mean), you doubt she even knows about the divorce yet.

Derek and JJ head out with the detectives to check out the last crime scene, while you stay back with Emily and Spencer to build the anti-geographical profile. When another victim is shot, you head to the new scene to see if you can build a working profile.

"It's a different borough again," you sigh after getting out of the SUV and joining Hotch, Kate, Derek, and JJ in front of the body. "Prentiss and Reid are back at the office still working the profile from a geographical angle. We're starting to think maybe we should get officers out onto the high-traffic intersections, and maybe even get some of us out there too."

"Uniforms are rounding up witnesses," Kate jumps in, ignoring you. "It doesn't seem like anyone got a clean look."

You see Derek glance at you out of the corner of your eye, but you don't entertain the look. If she has some issue with you that you aren't aware of, you won't give her the satisfaction of letting her get to you. "The unsub's probably gone before anyone even realizes it's happening,"

Hotch nods, turning to face Kate. "Is this what it felt like during the Son of Sam."

She returns his gaze. "First we realized that if the violence was truly random, there was almost no way of stopping it. Seems like these people have figured that out."

You look up, trying to see if there's anything in the vicinity you can use to ID the unsub. Your eyes catch on a security camera outside one of the delis directly behind you. "From the placement of that camera, odds are the only view they're going to get is the back of his head."

She frowns. "Let's not be too quick to decide what we do or don't have."

This time it's both Derek and JJ that glance at you, but you turn to Hotch, who is avoiding meeting your eyes. Kate steps away to speak with the detectives at the scene, so you grab his arm and pull him aside. "What is her problem?"

He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn't bring this case home, she's going to be reassigned. And you are at the top of the list to replace her."

"Replace her?" you echo, trying to process what he's saying. "I haven't even been in the BAU that long."

"It's not about field experience," he says, angling his body so that you're separated from the others. "You've been with the bureau longer than I have, and your work speaks for itself. It's not a surprise that they'd want to promote you."

You still can't wrap your head around the fact that you could be leading a unit yourself, or that you may have to leave the team you love, so you focus on what you do know. "I thought the bureau was proud of the fact that they stole her from Scotland Yard."

"I don't know," he shrugs, glancing back at her. "Politics here are different."

***

After finishing up at the crime scene, the whole team heads to the hotel to get some rest for the night. You feel more alert than you usually do after a long day of building a profile, and you adjust your bag strap on your shoulder as you dig around the side pockets for your room key. You don't plan on going to bed for at least a few more hours, and you might as well use the time to work on the case, but you need your key if you're going to get any sleep at all.

When your fingers finally catch on the thin plastic card, you look up to see a familiar face that you've been seeing more often than not, as of late. "Wait, isn't that..."

JJ looks up with a start, and she doesn't look distracted for the first time all day. "Will."

He gets up from the lobby chair he was lounging in and approaches her. "Hey, I took a shot and flew to D.C., but when it didn't work, I figured a train ride to New York was only a few more hours."

"Detective." Hotch reaches out and shakes his hand, before glancing at you with a frown that says, Did you know he was coming?

You shake your head imperceptibly and turn back to Will as he looks longingly at JJ. "Look, I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know you're working, but I can't stand you being on this case and me not being near." He pauses for a beat. "Not with what's going on."

That makes you frown too.

Hotch echoes your thoughts. "Is there a problem?"

JJ takes a deep breath and turns around to face all of you. "I'm pregnant."

Oh my God.

"Oh, my God," Emily exclaims, pulling her into a hug, the first of you to regain her bearings after hearing the news. "JJ, congratulations."

"That's amazing, JJ," you grin, hugging her next.

You don't miss how stiff Hotch is as Will shakes his hand. "I've asked JJ to marry me."

"Will," JJ says tightly, a warning in her voice.

He chuckles. "Well, we're working out some kinks."

"We'll give you both some privacy." Hotch turns away from them, his face falling the moment she can't see him anymore. You know he's hurt that she didn't trust him with this information, but you're surprised by just how downtrodden he seems.

JJ rushes after him. "Hotch-"

"JJ, you could have told me," he says softly, his voice both confused and stung.

She looks down. "I know."

"Because I understand if you need to take some time."

"No," she shakes her head, without a look back. "I want to be here."

"Okay," he nods, not looking at any of you. "7:00 AM."

You try to catch his arm as he walks off, but he either ignores it, or he doesn't feel you reaching for him. You choose to believe it's the latter.

***

You all deliver the working profile to the police officers first thing the next morning. While you're explaining an alternate possibility, Garcia calls with an update that a possible unsub was caught on camera shooting someone on a subway platform at one of the intersections you suggested that your team patrol yesterday.

"We could have had that guy," you say, your voice fuming with anger as you turn to Kate with a glare you haven't used in ages.

She doesn't falter. "Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated."

"Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot."

She fixes you with a stare. "I had every available man on the street."

"And I suggested to you that you use this team." You can't believe that her decision to ignore your advice yesterday might have just cost someone else their life. You can see the rest of the team looking at you with some blend of concern or indignation on your behalf, but you don't care. You just need Hotch to back you up.

Instead he just looks at you. "L/N, second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now."

You're so angry, you can barely see straight. Emily reaches for your arm, but you shake her off. "Hotch, how are we supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them, if she won't let us do our job?"

"We're here to present a profile," he says simply, not quite meeting your eye. "That's what we need to do."

You gape at him, your back straightening as you get ready to stand your ground. You don't disagree on things like this often, but when you do, it's usually a civil conversation that gets resolved quickly. You've never felt this angry about his handling of a case before, but then again, he's never not had your back before. "We've got seven bodies, Hotch."

He looks at you then, and you can't discern anything from his expression. It's a blank slate that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's not your place to have this discussion."

"Screw you."

You spin around, shoving away Derek and Emily as they try to talk you down. You stalk past them and out of the field office, where the cool evening air fills your sinuses and clears your head for a moment of silence. You stand on the sidewalk for a few seconds, waiting, and when he doesn't follow you out, you just manage to convince yourself that you're not disappointed, but relieved.

***

You're sitting at the hotel bar when Rossi finally finds you. You only ordered a lemon water, still feeling like you're on the clock, even if there's a good chance Hotch won't let you back into the investigation.

"I know," you huff when he takes a seat beside you. "I was out of line."

"You got too emotionally involved," he says, turning to face you. "I know you and Hotch are friends, but that doesn't mean you get to be unprofessional."

You sigh, your body deflating as all the fight leaves you. "I just felt like he was taking her side. Like he didn't have my back."

"There are no sides here."

You nod. "I know."

"And he does have your back." You look at him then, and he flashes you a small smile. "That man will always have your back. Right now, he's just worried about how Kate is holding up, with the word on the street."

That surprises you. "You know about the promotion?"

He nods. "People talk. But if she were to get fired, it would be because we didn't solve this case."

You frown, lifting your hand in defense. "Rossi, I hope you're not saying you think I want her to fail."

"Of course not," he shakes his head. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I lost my head for a second," you acknowledge, taking a sip of water. "I think I just needed a minute."

"And you got it," he says simply. "But right now, I see someone who wants to get back on the job. Or is there another reason why you ordered a glass of water at a bar?"

You set your glass down, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Where is everyone now?"

You both stand up, and he leads you out of the lobby. "Joyner took your advice. We're spreading out across the city."

***

"Emily, what happened?"

You rush forward to where she is standing over the dead body of a young man. Detective Cooper was taken in an ambulance to a nearby hospital after getting shot, and you only just arrived on the scene.

"He was strangely calm," she whispers as Derek and JJ come up behind her. "It's almost like suicide by cop."

"Why?" JJ thinks out loud. "Why would he do that?"

Derek looks at you. "We need to walk back through this profile."

Hundreds of thoughts are swirling through your brain, but based on the look on everyone's faces, you can tell they're thinking the same thing you are: terrorism.

After the crime scene officials arrive, you head over to your SUV to get back to the field office. Derek heads out to brief Homeland Security, and Reid leaves to talk to the Port Authority police, while Hotch and Kate call with the update that they will be going to speak with the mayor's office.

You start your SUV and pull out into the street when a loud explosion goes off a few streets behind you, the plume of smoke and fire large enough that you catch the high end of it in your rearview mirror.

You screech to a stop, just as your phone starts to ring.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @sanayikes, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog (message me to be added!)

[archermind]

seen your post abt suggestions for a spencer reid fic, this has been marinating in my brain so pls bare with me. <3

spencer reid x aarons daughter! reader

maybe he forgets his lunch, and his daughter brings it in? or something along the lines of needing a tutor? ill take ANYTHING. bonus points if its fluffy and smutty

feel free to change anything!!!

-🃏

Arousal Theory

Spencer Reid x Aarons daughter!reader

Description: You are Aaron Hotchner’s only daughter. It is safe to say he is a little over protective of you. You have never been able to bring a guy friend home without your dad profiling them and scaring them away. The one guy he never thought to profile was his own co-worker, Spencer Reid. 

Word count: 2,500 approx.

Content Warning: fluff and light smut, light choking, hair pulling, fingering, small age gap.

y/n/n = your nickname

Author note: omgomg! I'm so glad someone sent this request in! Don't worry anonymous, I too have had this scenario brewing in my head. I loved your suggestion, thank you for submitting it! I hope i have done your idea justice <3

You hated your dads job. Mainly because he was too good at it. Every boy you were ever remotely friends with, you weren't anymore. All because of Aaron Hotchner. Each time you invited a guy to your house, your dad kicked into his professional shoes and took it upon himself to profile the poor boy. No guy was ever good enough for you or some of their characteristics unnerved Hotch.

This was the reason why at 22 years old, you still had never had any romantic relationship. The most romance you received lately was with a $20 lovehoney sex toy you bought in a valentines sale. Now that is romance. Your days were spent scrolling through tumblr, ao3 and erotic ebooks - yet every time after finishing the romance novel that piqued your current interest, you felt like sleeping on the highway. You couldn't help but think… ‘If this is my life at 22, I'm going to be the lonely old cat lady by the age of 25’.

It was a casual Saturday, you stood within the kitchen as your cat purred lapping in and out of your legs as you prepared her food. You weren’t really a sociable person. You mainly spent your days studying, preparing late dinners for your dad and caring for your cat - cookie. It was the main reason you didn't stay in dorms for college, you couldn't stand others. Other people your age were out drinking or hooking up. You just simply didn’t have the energy to go out to a party every week. 

Your feet padded along the tiled floor as you made your way to the fridge. Opening the door, you let out a gasp. Your dad had forgotten his lunch. The BAU day can get pretty long and you know your dad often gets so caught up in a case he forgets to eat. You grabbed the tub, a basic lunch packed inside of it. You lightly stifled a laugh, seeing your fathers poor excuse of a ‘nutritious’ lunch. Opening the tub you pulled out an apple, some crackers and cheese, along with a small sandwich. Enough to fill a five year old… not a hardworking, criminal catching 43 year old man. 

Luckily, you had cooked too much cheesy spinach pasta for lunch. You packed Hotch a generous amount. Before putting it into a lunch bag, grabbing your keys and heading out of the door. After two tries of twisting the ignition key for your car, it suddenly kicked into motion. With winter approaching, your old beat up car was struggling. The drive wasn’t too long fortunately. Getting a space in the small Quantico parking lot was your greatest problem.

You made your way through the reception area of the building, confidently walking towards the elevator. However, you were abruptly stopped in your tracks after seeing the ‘out of order’ sign. You sighed making your way over to the stairwell. You saw someone entering through the stairwell door and realized the doors to the stairs were key card accessed.

“HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!” you yelled, running towards the boy who held the door. 

“Sorry, but you have to have an access card to be allowed through” the boy spoke, gesturing to his key card. 

You squint your eyes to read his name before responding with a coy smile. 

“Well actually… spencer.” you smiled at him, “i have to just quickly drop off my dads lunch, so could you be a sweetheart and just let me through?”

He shifted anxiously as you battered your eyelashes at him, trying your hardest to persuade the older boy. 

“I guess so..” he responded, looking your impatient demeanor up and down “what floor are you heading to?” 

“Floor four” you stated quickly as you rushed toward the steps, spencer hot on your trail

“That's good because I actually am too!” Spencer gleefully responded as you hummed in surprise. 

You were slightly short of breath by the time you reached the fourth floor. Spencer however was still just as energetic as before. All throughout the walk up the stairs, he rambled about which tourist attraction has the most steps in the U.S after you made a single complaint about the elevator being out of order. 

“Here we are,” spencer opened the door “who is your da-”

“Y/N/N?” Hotch exclaimed, coming up to you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Hey dad, I came here to bring you lunch… you forgot yours” you pointed out with a laugh

“Oh? I didn't realize” he gratefully took the tub from your grasp, “i see you have met Dr. Spencer Reid” 

You and Spencer both looked toward each other. You gave him a polite smile and then nodded sweetly to your dad. 

“I was just talking to Spencer this morning about how you could use his extensive knowledge to support you in your studies” he spoke confidently, yet.. You found yourself on the verge of protesting. As you opened your mouth, Hotch began again…

“He already said yes.”

Great.

You anxiously bit your nails and paced just behind the front door, awaiting the moment Spencer would knock. From the moment you both met, you thought he was handsome. The way his brown soft looking curls were all laid messy. The way his honey brown eyes stared focused on every point of your face, as you spoke. It made you want to know him more. Everything about Dr Spencer Reid intrigued you. 

A knock broke your train of thought- or more like your fantasy imagination about your dads Co-worker. It sent a shock through you. You shook your arms attempting to get rid of your nerves. It is just a 26 year old man coming to help you study. Nothing else… nothing more. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror to check if you looked good - to study of course

You death gripped the handle of the front door and pulled it open to see Spencer stood there. He wore a hat, gloves and scarf to help protect him from the cold brittle air. It made you feel terrible for leaving him that extra few minutes in the cold. You smiled at him, motioning him to come into your home. 

“Hotch told me you were studying psychology” he questioned, walking into the dining room. 

“Uh… yea i am” you followed him through to the dining room, “would you like a hot chocolate?” you questioned him.

“I actually don't like hot chocolate” Spencer stated, giving a soft smile to lessen the harsh deny of your polite gesture.

“Neither do i…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him blushing. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Spencer smiled. 

As you added the sugars into the coffees, you heard cookie meowing from the dining room. You grasped the coffees, making your way back to spencer. To your surprise Cookie had jumped onto Spencer's knee and began kneading his leg, purring. You placed the coffees down and laughed at her kitten-like attitude for Spencer, a random stranger. Until you saw how uncomfortable Reid was. You quickly shoo’d her off of him. 

Time passed, the studying was long and quite boring . Spencer helped you create numerous flash cards to help you study and you both went through them. While studying, small talk was going on - you enjoyed getting to know Spencer. He was such an interesting person that you wished to know him more and more, deeper and deeper. 

“I have an idea, for each question on these cards i guess right you get to ask me a question?” spencer suggested

You smirked in response, it was a good trade. He got to tutor me and I got to question him.

“Okay” you grinned

The questions were basic. ‘What is your favorite part of your job?’, ‘Who is your favorite co-worker?’, ‘what is your favorite book?’. You were actually making an effort in answering these silly little cards. However, you were never asking the questions you really wanted to ask… more about his personal life. 

“What is the arousal theory?” Reid asked

“to be the physiological state of being aware, alert, awake or attentive” you spoke confidently

“Correct!” he shouted

“Okay…” you spoke slowly and playfully

you thought long and hard about what you wanted to know about Spencer, your mind immediately going to the one and only thing you were desperate to know. Although it was wildly inappropriate to ask your dad’s co-worker, you just couldn't help yourself.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you spoke mumbled and shy. 

“No.” he answered sharply, “do you- uh… have a boyfriend?” he blushed.

It was new year's eve and you were currently dressed in a silver satin dress. You felt confident but nervous as you stood beside your dad, hugging a tub of home baked cookies on the doorstep of Rossi’s house. He had invited hotch and you over to his annual new year party. You knew Spencer was going to be there hence why you dressed at your best.

Little to your fathers knowledge, you and Spence had grown closer and closer. Although you both were nothing serious. You could feel the tension between you both with every brush of your hands, sip of coffee and longing stare. You couldn't be more grateful for your weekly study sessions, you were gaining more marks on each essay and exam - all thanks to spencer. 

Walking into the party, you were engulfed in hugs from Hotch’s co-workers. Everyone was so kind. You listened to the group of friends laugh and joke. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice Spencer was missing from the large tight-knit group. You glanced around the room, in search of the man you were obsessed with. You couldn’t help but worry that he wasn't here at all. 

“I'm going to go grab a drink” you informed hotch before rushing off into the crowd. You were in search of a beverage and a smartass man who took up every inch of your thoughts. You pushed past small crowds making your way to the drinks table. Your eyes scanned the room, still no sign of Reid.

“You look beautiful Y/N” a voice whispered in your ear.

You jumped slightly at the hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. You smiled instantly knowing exactly who it was behind you. You quickly spun around and threw your arms around his neck, giving him the tightest hug. He smelled good and you found yourself sinking further into his arms for longer. 

“Should we get away from the crowds” you asked him, looking up at him, remembering a discussion you had about his hate for big crowds during a study session. 

He nodded and swiftly guided you through Rossi’s home and up the stairs to a bathroom. You giggled as he closed and locked the door. You loved sneaking around to have some privacy for whatever it was going on between you both. It made you feel special and giddy for the tall boy who you had grown so close to. Spencer now towered over you as he stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you onto the giant bathroom counter. 

The room was silent but the tension was thick. You licked your lips as they went dry from anticipation for anything to happen. You stared up at him as Spencer tucked a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. You have never wanted a man more and it was a lot for you to admit. You felt vulnerable under his touch and gaze. You and Spencer searched in eachothers eyes, looking for any indication in each other's stare if you both felt the same way. 

You found yourself leaning into the temptation and to him. Spencer was quick to close the gap. You both kissed passionately and slowly, enjoying the moment that had been a long time coming. You smiled as he pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long Y/N” he blushed at his confession

“I wish you didn’t wait so long Spence”

You kissed him again and felt his hand go to your neck, applying light pressure. You moaned at the contact. Slowly Spencer began to pepper kisses along your jawline. You hummed at his actions. You felt yourself grow with more need for him. Both of your breathing became heavy as your lust and want for each other grew stronger. You felt Spencer's hand trail up your thigh as his tongue played with yours in a heated make out. You pulled away and looked down as his hand grazed your clothed pussy. You were soaked for him and ready for his touch but so hesitant. You didn’t want this to be a one time thing, no matter how much you wanted this. 

“Is this okay Y/N?” Spencer questioned you concerned for the worried look you held in your expression.

“Yes Spencer p-please” you whined needy, pushing the negative thoughts away. 

Quickly Spencer pushed your panties aside, you gasped at the sudden touch of his cold fingers against your heat. He began stroking small circles on your clit causing your head to fall back from the pleasure. He bit back a smirk at the reaction you had for his touch. You whined as you felt a finger brush near your entrance.

“You have to be quiet baby” he spoke gently, shushing you before plunging his fingers into you.

You moaned in response and then Spencer clasped his spare hand over your mouth to try and muffle the reaction coming from you, not wanting your father and his boss to know what you both were getting up to in his co-workers bathroom. He kept the pumping of his fingers at a steady rhythm as his thumb massaged circles on your clit. Spencer's hot mouth went to your neck biting and sucking at the skin. It seemed your entire body was sensitive for him. Every touch, kiss, and word from him caused an elicit reaction. 

You began to ride his hand and fingers faster as you grew closer to your finish. While he sped up the thrusts of his fingers, you could hear the countdown to new year about to start. Spencer knew you were about to cum and instantly knew what he wanted from you.

“You only cum when i want you to” spencer growled his order into your ear 

 your legs and body began to shake from the overwhelming knot of pleasure in your stomach. Your body writhed and wriggled against the counter as his thumb applied pressure to your sensitive overstimulated clit. You were a mess, dripping with arousal. 

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3…

“Hold it Y/N!” Spencer grunted

2..

“Look at you such a good girl Y/N” he praised, stroking your hair out of your face but grabbing a fistful and pulling your head back to look at him….

1…

“Cum for me!” Spencer begged as he watched you come undone from his touch.

You whined from your climax. Trying your hardest to gain the full ability of your mind as it was going wild from your overstimulation. Spencer kissed your forehead as your chest heaved up and down. You smiled letting out a light laugh.

“Happy new year Spence” you smiled into his kiss

“What a way to come into the new year Y/N”

[izzielizzie93]

High School Sweethearts Part 2-J Burrow

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

College! Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary: There's nothing like coming home for the holidays

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None, some angst and fluff

This one is long & there will definitely be a part 3! Thank you to everyone who liked, shared, and commented on part 1 :)

-------

I’d be lying if I said moving to Baton Rouge was an easy decision; but I would also be lying if I said it didn’t feel right the moment I stepped into my dorm. I had gone earlier than most; because on top of becoming a Tiger, I had also made the LSU cheer team. 

I ended up waiting a day to respond to Joe’s text, choosing to send an emoji of a Tiger and a thumbs up in lieu of actually having the courage to say anything else. 

I unblocked him on everything and added him back as a friend shortly before graduation. We both knew we were mutuals again; but he never liked my new posts. It was morbid curiosity that had me scouring his Instagram and being pathetic when asking friends if he posted on snap.

I mostly did this late at night when I couldn’t sleep, afraid of my dreams. Sometimes I’d wake up after dreaming that Joe hated that I’d followed him to Ohio State and it would end with him breaking up with me and asking me to transer. Other times we’d be happy together and he’d be telling me he couldn’t wait to marry me after graduation. 

Both dreams felt equally horrible when I woke up in my cold dorm, hundreds of miles away from him. 

Eventually, the dreams subsided as fall term began and life got hectic just as I’d predicted it would. I grew very close with two fellow cheerleaders, Sasha and Emily, and they were great distractions. 

Of course, I’d gotten drunk about a month into school starting and spilled everything to them. I had opened up about some details of my life; but always stopped myself because it felt too personal to share with people I’d only known for a couple of months. 

Luckily, my word vomit didn’t scare them off and they helped me stop with my frantic scrolling of Joe’s pages and they even came over and stayed the night when I felt I was going to have bad dreams. 

—

In the month leading up to break, I had been dreading going home. I was hoping everyday that LSU would have a bowl game that weekend; but it was scheduled for the week after and we were all cleared to go home for break. 

I’d fallen back into the habit of stalking Joe online and nothing seemed to point toward any new girlfriends; but I still hurt my own feelings each time I clicked on his page.

“So, Y/N are you excited to be going home for Thanksgiving?” Emily asked as she sat on my bed, watching me pack. “Absolutely, I already have friends texting me trying to make plans for every second and I know my mom is going to protest and want to keep me home.” I felt myself smiling at the thought of being with everyone again. 

“What about-” I turned to glare at her before she finished her sentence. “I mean you know he’ll be there. You might see him.” Sasha piped up from her own side of the dorm. While I was happy that Sasha had become my roommate after the summer, there were times where I wish she hadn’t. 

“I know and I plan on being cordial. I’m going to treat him like an acquaintance and avoid him as much as possible.” I shrugged. Sasha and Emily shared a look and I did my best to ignore them before excusing myself to take a long shower, hoping Sasha would be in bed and Emily would be gone when I got back. 

—

Despite burying myself in schoolwork, the day to leave for Ohio felt like it came too quickly. I was doing my best to stay positive and remind myself that I didn’t need to worry about Joe, I had so many people I wanted to see. 

Once I’d landed and spotted my parents waiting for me, all thoughts of Joe left my mind. Seeing my mom cry wasn’t anything new; but seeing my dad tear up had me crying. 

They peppered me with questions the entire drive home and wanted to know everything about school, cheer, and my friends. I’d kept my mom in the loop, talking to her on the phone every week; but it wasn’t the same as being there. She and my dad had tickets to fly back with me and take a vacation in New Orleans before coming to see LSU play. 

—

Avoiding Joe was easy for the first few days of the trip; but then I was invited to a Bonfire party out at Oakley’s Ranch. Everyone who was home for the holidays, and those who’d never left, were going to be there and I didn’t want to miss out. 

“Wow, Joe is going to go insane when he sees you.” My friend Sarah gasped when I walked out to her car. “Shut up, this isn’t for him.” I glared, getting in. She rolled her eyes, knowing I was lying through my teeth. I did want Joe to see me and not be able to find a good reason why he ever let me go. 

I had on black jeans that hugged me in all of the right places, a black spaghetti strap crop top with a v neckline, black thigh high boots that I’d stolen from Sasha, and a bright red leather jacket. I’d curled my hair and done a smokey makeup look to match my dark aesthetic and I had on a bold red lip color. 

“Is that Joe’s favorite perfume?” My friend Kasey smirked as she got into the car next. After what felt like the longest car ride ever, the taunting ended as we pulled up next to the all too familiar Oakely barn. 

—

A couple of hours had passed and I was happily buzzing, dancing and singing along to songs with friends I hadn’t seen in months. 

I was so into dancing that I didn’t see a certain blonde haired blue eyed man walk in; but he saw me. “Holy shit, Joe is staring so hard.” Sarah slurred, pulling me in close. I let my eyes wander and I smirked when I caught Joe’s eye.

I downed the rest of my drink and excused myself to go outside to get air. I walked once around the barn and on my second trip, Joe was leaning against one of the walls. As I was about to pass him, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. 

Despite being in heels, I still had to look up as his 6”4 figure dwarfed me. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. His eyes bore into mine before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips.

---

:)

@lh4455 @dessxoxsworld

[delillilah]

When in Michigan…

September 2nd, 2021

10:49 am

Annabelle had successfully moved into her first college dorm, all in just 2 hours. She’s never really been the type to procrastinate, so it was easy for her to just move quickly.

After chatting with her roommate, Annabelle put on leggings and a sports bra to go down to practice for the football game tonight which the dance team attends to.

Lukey

Lukey

Will you be at the game?

Sent at 11:59 am

Annie <3

Yep

But for dance

Read at 12:01 pm

Lukey

so your going to the after party

Annie <3

Most likely

Lukey

okay, just checking

Annie <3

Okay luke

did you want to meet up after the game?

Lukey

Yea that’s sounds good, how long does it take for you to get out?

Annie <3

Not long, maybe 15 but I’ll get out before your out for sure

Lukey

Okay, we’ll meet you at the gate

Annie <3

Sounds good

She turned off her phone before placing it in the waistband of her leggings and walking into the dance building.

Today the team was working in the granoff studio which is upstairs. After hiking up the stairs, she slipped off her shoes and socks to put on her half soles.

“Hey Belle” cardigan says as she sits next to the brunette. “Hey cari”

After practice

She walked down the halls to fill up her water bottle, while her phone continued to ring in her pocket. Eventually she had hands to grab it and saw Luke’s name across the screen.

“hey Annie, do you know where the party is tonight”

She chuckles before answering. “The football house, but McCarthy says not to get there before 6.“

“You talked to McCarthy?”

“I did today, I gotta go get ready but I’ll see you later Luke”

“See ya Annie!”

After a quick jog back, she began to do her hair and makeup for the game

After game

After a long game, Michigan ended up losing 16-31, but they still had the rest of the season to go. But now she waits at the gate of the stadium for her brother and friends when she notices a guy around her age walking up to her. “Hey, your Annabelle right” he asks, she hesitantly nods her head, looking for any sight of Luke.

“I’m mark, Luke’s friend we got separated on the way out” he says carefully seeing her frazzled state.

“Prove it” she says and squints her eyes a little bit, it’s not the first time someone’s claimed they know her brother to hang out with her, that almost ended up with her being kidnapped but luckily she has smart-drunk friends.

“um.. ok..” he trails off and pulls out his phone, which he then shows her photos of the two together.

“Okay, I believe you-” she’s cut off by the ring of her phone.

“Speak of the devil” she speaks and answers it. “Hey Annie, we lost mark it my take us-”

“Marks with me, where are you guys”

“Marks with her- okay we’ll be out in a minute” then the line fell dead.

she sighs and mark chuckles, then the two decide to sit on the ground against the wall while they wait.

It was much more then a minute, maybe 10, before Ethan and Luke came out and they looked like they wrestled an army.

“What happened to you?” Mark asks while standing up.

“that is a lot of people for one stadium” Ethan huffs and the group begins to walk to the car.

“where are we eating?” Ethan asks them and hops in the drivers seat, Luke in the passenger and Anna with mark in the back.

“Dennys!” The Hughes siblings announce at the same time, making the other to chuckle but he drives there anyway.

Once they were seated in a booth, they all ordered a chocolate milkshake and began talking, specifically Annabelle and mark.

They just kept finding things in common about each other.

“you played on storm?” He asks.

“I did, that was the year before I quit” she responds with a smile, seeing his excitement that they once played on the same team.

“Why’d you quit?” The boy asks, she takes in a breath and Luke began to listen on what she was gonna say rather then what Ethan was yapping about.

“Just fell out of love for it, at least playing on a team, sometimes I go to the rink and do a few laps” she responds truthfully, Luke is honestly shocked that she still goes onto the ice. He never knew that and he bet Quinn and Jack didn’t either.

“Oh, well it’s good you still skate. I bet your better then Lukey”

“Hey!” The curly headed boy cuts in leaving the two on the other side laughing, not realizing he was listening.

Eventually the fatigue was catching up to Anna, trying to hide the big yawn she let out in her arm.

“hey why don’t we head out, someone seems sleepy” mark points to the girl and they all agree.

When the two get in the backseat, mark slides his phone across the seat and she happily picks it up, putting her number in and texting it.

[esthersarahhh]

characters; Marco Bodt x gn!reader, past Jean Kirstein x gn!reader

summary; After Jean’s insensitive rejection of Y/n’s feelings, he starts wondering if he made the wrong choice.

word count; 1,4k (1463)

content warning; my constant switching between you and i 😿

notes; i am SO SO sorry for taking so long with updating 😭 school is really stressing me out!! Do you guys want a part 3? If yes, should it be Marco x reader, Jean x reader, both or something entirely else?

Also important! this is a part 2! so i recommend reading the first part before reading this one. you can find part 1 here

———————————————————————

After your not-so-successful confession to Jean, you’ve pretty much avoided him. It wasn’t all too hard the first few weeks, and since he was still head over heels about Mikasa, i think he hardly noticed.

You’ve spent more time with the other cadets and made good friends with them. You’ve become closer to Marco than ever before. You also still shared the same bed together with Marco a lot. Not necessarily in a romantic way but not entirely un-romantic either.

Most boys in the dorm didn’t mind you there, in-fact they liked your presence, and luckily Commandant Shadis didn’t know because if he did God knows how many laps he’d have you run.

Tonight was a night like every other. As you were walking to the boy dorm you noticed that Jean was walking before you. You hadn't talked to him since the whole '' confession '' thing, and you didn't feel like talking to him now. You just kept walking behind him, hoping he wouldn't hear you. He didn't and he went inside the dorm. The same dorm you were going to.

' Why am I suddenly caring if Jean is there or not? He's been in there while I was as well countless times before. ' You thought to yourself. Did you still miss him? Were you only so close with Marco to drive out any leftover feelings you had for Jean?

No. You couldn't think like that. What would Marco say? What would anyone say for that matter. All of your other friends whom you had told the story to said the same thing Marco said. That Jean is stupid and that you shouldn't try to even befriend him again.

But Jean was lonely too. After what he did both Marco and I had stopped talking to him. Me, because I obviously didn't want to talk to him, and Marco because he wanted to focus on me. Jean didn't have any friends exept for us, and seeing him alone in the lunch barracks broke my heart, one piece at a time.

You shaked off the thought you had, turned heel, and went back to your own dorm. You'd have to apologize to Marco later for not showing up like you promised.

_

You apologogized next morning, as you were eating breakfast in the barracks. Marco said he understood, that even though you hadn't thought about Jean for a while, that doesn't mean you never had feelings for him in the first place.

'' I suppose you're right. '' You said, taking another bite of food.

'' I always am. '' Marco replied which made you snort. Your eyes wandered the hall. You saw Mikasa, talking to Eren and Armin. You saw Sasha, stuffing her mouth with more food than she could chew, and Connie laughing at her. Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner were sitting with Mina, Thomas and Daz just talking and laughing together.

Jean was sitting alone in the fathest end of the hall. His food laid untouched on his plate as he just stared at the table before him. You suddenly felt a deep pit in your stomach as you watched him. He looked so alone. You turned to Marco, only to see him talking to Nac next to us. You figured he wouldn't notice if you slipped out for a minute.

So you did just that. You stood up and walked over to Jean's table. As you approached he looked up from his food and looked at you. You stood there, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to think of what to say.

'' ...You looked alone so I thought I'd ask you to come sit at our table- '' You said but were cut of as he said '' I'm fine! You don't have to pretend to care about me. ''

Half of you wanted to scream at him and make a scene, the other half wanted to be polite to him. The polite half won. '' Well umm.. the offer is open. '' You said and as you were about to turn around and walk back, you turned around again. '' ..Please. '' You looked at him and he looked back at you. He picked up his plate and you frowned in defeat. He was leaving. You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. As you opened your eyes again Jean was standing infront of you with a confused look on his face. Then he started grinning.

'' Are you going to stand there with your eyes closed or are we going to sit over there? '' He said, still grinning. You let out a small chuckle and walked with him over to where you were previously sitting. Marco looked at you and Jean, and then put a welcoming smile on his face.

_

You and Jean were neutral after that. Well, you wouldn't call it neutral. You just said hi to each other when walking past each other, not much more than that. You did however have a conversation with Marco about him.

It was a few nights ago, you were both on the porch just looking at the stars when Marco suddenly said '' Why are you talking to him again? '' it sounded more like a statement than a question and he sounded the slightest bit jealous.

'' To who? Jean? '' You questioned, just to make sure. He nodded in response. '' Well he looked alone and it made me think of before i joined the cadets. I was also alone and no one would talk to me. The only company I had was my family. I didn't want Jean to feel the same lonelyness I did. ''

It was quiet after that. You looked at Marco but he looked away. You finally broke the silence by saying '' Are you mad at me? For talking to him again? '' He still wasn't looking at you but he shook his head no.

'' Then why aren't you saying anything..? '' You ask again. Marco turned his head to face you. He had tears in his eyes. You almost broke down right then and there. Seeing Marco cry was like the world was on fire. You leaned into him and put your head on his shoulder, whilst wrapping your arm around him. He took a few deep breaths and then said '' Do you still like him. '' He sounded like he was about to break out into sobs again.

'' No! Not at all. I.. I like someone else. '' His eyes glistened from the tears. You didn't want to say right out that it was him you liked, though it was pretty obvious that he liked you too. You looked into his eyes and he looked at you, then he leant in and kissed you. You kissed back but it didn't last as long as you would've liked. As you pulled apart you felt the presence of someone behind you.

Marco felt that feeling too and you both turned around, only to be met with Jean. You couldn't quite figure out what Jean was feeling from the expression on his face, but from the fact that he was holding flowers and a handwritten letter, you could tell it wasn't good.

'' Congrats. '' Jean said, unimpressed. He dropped the flowers and the letter, and turned around. He walked away. Not to the dorms, but to be somewhere alone. You picked up the letter and gave the flowers to Marco, so he could hold them while you read the letter.

'' Hi Darling Dearest Dear Y/n. I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I wanted to say this to you in person but Im afraid of what you will say so I decided to write this instead. I haven't been fair to you.

You liked me while I barely talked to you because I was so obsessed over Mikasa. I regret everday that I ignored you when you wanted to talk to me that day. You were still nice to me even after what I did. You invited me to sit with you and even though it might not seem like a grand gesture, it meant a lot to me. Im not asking you to forgive me, I just want you to know how sorry I am. Hopefully we can still be friends, and I would do anything for you to give me a second chance.

-Jean ''

You gave the letter to Marco and let him read it as well. After he read it you said '' I um.. need some time to think about this. Sorry I'll see you tomorrow. '' You mumbled as you walked away, back to the girl dorm.

What do you do now?

[swagtastic-bougie-pompadour]

Hi Clive! About your recent guide post, uh... can I ask a question?

See, my auntie is a ghost type trainer and I really wanna follow in her footsteps, but I'm not totally sure which ghost types would or wouldn't be a good fit for dorm life. Do you have any ideas? I'm considering maybe, uh... maybe Shuppet wouldn't cause too much trouble? Or Sinistea? I kinda really want a Bramblin, but I can see the chaos already with it rocketing down hallways leaving Leech Seeds everywhere...

That’s a great question!

For good first-timer Pokémon… Misdreavus is a prankster, but as long as it’s not messing with class, we’re even! Please do be careful to not catch any Misdreavus that look particularly… dinosaur-y, however. Those are VERY harmful. Shuppet are also “chill”, but I’ve heard they like negative people a lot.

I would actually warn about Sinistea before they evolve—if you do wind up drinking one. Hospital. Once they evolve they’re quite lovely. Greavard are precious, but the rumor mill says you’re going to want to have other friends so you’re not the only person they’re draining from.

As for Bramblin… luckily haven’t been hit by a drive-by tumbleweed yet here! Honestly? I think the halls during rush hour are too packed for that. Like any Pokémon, it’s how you care for ‘em! If you want, I can ask Miss Tyme to ask Leader Ryme too!

[symphonic-scream]

I've got more P5 as P3 in honour of P3R and the fact that I'm learning more about P3 than what I gathered from PQ so sjdbdj

World Akira wakes up some nights to these angry blonde children who tell him the world is ending but he's special?? Also someone about the moon but they're fighting and yelling and he's tired

(at the end of the post there will be a tldr with all the arcana listed lmao)

I've changed my mind on something. Akane Hasegawa isn't Justice, she's Hanged Man. Wondering why her dad doesn't spend time with her and shit. Why he isn't trying harder to avenge her mom

That leaves an open spot on the team. A young character, who fights, and maybe is good with a gun? My new idea is SEES member Shinya Oda. I think this would work better than Akane in any sense

I haven't chosen a distinct role for Hifumi yet. Maybe Fortune? Instead of Art Club it's Board Games club and it's chess and shogi?

Now let's talk more about our SEES members

Member 0, the Empress Arcana, Makoto Niijima. She's been able to summon her persona since the big accident, the one that put her guardian, her older sister, into a coma. Makoto visits Sae at the hospital a lot, and she's lived in the Iwatodai dorms ever since. She was alone there for a long time, until members 1 and 2 joined her, when they all started middle school

Makoto appears put together to the younger members. She's got her sick ass motorcycle persona, and guides them through Tartarus at the start. Under her help even Ryuji does okay on his exams

But, it's mostly a ruse. She's trying to live "normally" to ensure she has a future but, part of her believes there won't be a future. She's stubborn in her escapism, and it's what led to a falling out between her and member 2. She's still a scared little girl deep down. Luckily, she's got a bond stronger than blood with member 1, though they don't show it around their Juniors. They remain focused on the fight, and seek the other for comfort and physical distraction afterwards

Member 1, the Star Arcana, Haru Okumura. She lost her mother young, due to her father's high status, in some, incident she doesn't talk about much. Even Makoto barely knows about it, and they're as close as can be, soul mates practically. Haru was involved, was there, and her father doesn't talk to or visit her much since she's come to the dorms

Haru needs to be strong, so those around her are safe. When first starting out, Makoto and member 2 had to take hits for her, and she'd cry after, while learning to tend their wounds from Sojiro or Takuto. Now, she's turned that old fear into a drive to slash and hack through every shadow, so her "family" is always safe

When she breaks her rib during that April Full Moon, she's so pissed she's sidelined. She spends the downtime picking through colleges with Makoto, softly talking about their next year. Haru does it for Makoto's sake. When she's high on pain meds in the hospital, she texts Member 2 for the first time in two years. They start meeting up, and Haru tries to convince 2 to come back

Member 2, the Moon Arcana, Ken Amada. He used to smile more, the girls say. Before. He's always been a quiet soul, Sojiro claims. He was the realist, the mature one of the three, always focused on the truth; the world will end, and only they can stop it

That's what his fight with Makoto was about. The middle of their second year, after they've been friends for 6 or so years, he punches her. His grades were low, he was skipping school to train, and she accused him of throwing away his life for the cause. He thinks planning for the future is stupid, when they might not have one. He didn't mean to hit her. She didn't mean to give him that ultimatum.

Ken misses the girls so much. He's got no one else but them. When he comes back, he's putting on a lighter attitude. Joking around with Makoto and Haru, after agreeing with Haru to at least pick a college with them. They're closer to being kids during that time then they ever were, now that the burden is shared a little. But Ken, he still knows there's little chance in their dreams coming true

Okay I went a little too off on them the rest will be shorter

Member 3, the World Arcana, Akira Kurusu. He's the fucking protagonist??

Member 4, the Lovers Arcana, Ann Takamaki.

Member 5, the Temperance Arcana, Yusuke Kitagawa.

Member 6, the Magician Arcana, Ryuji Sakamoto.

Member 7, the High Priestess Arcana, Futaba Sakura.

Member 8, the Aeon Arcana, Goro Akechi.

Member 9, the Strength Arcana, Morgana.

Member 10, the Justice Arcana, Shinya Oda.

I won't list the SEES arcana again but here's some others that aren't shown here!

Kasumi Yoshizawa, aka Maya, is the Hermit

Sumire Yoshizawa is the Chariot

Hifumi Togo is the Fortune

Caroline and Justice are Death

Devil is the same.

Yuuki Mishima is the Emperor

Munehisa Iwai is the Tower

Uh. The Sun. Maybe, Tae Takemi? I haven't done this social link ever in P3 so I'll iron it out later on

Shiho is around, she appears in a lot of the Chariot and Lovers ranks, as well as Emperor

Anyways. I do have more but most is on the senior trio I apologize

[elliesslutworld]

Friendly Tension

Synopsis-You and ellie had been best friends since freshman year of high school now it is their sophomore year of college. ellie has always had a crush on you and every since you’ve came out of the closet y’all’s tension has grown. what will happens when y’all make an agreement not knowing each other secretly have feelings for one another?

Authors note-This is my first fic so if it isn’t the best writing bare with me it will get better lol hope y’all like it i’m trying to do story lines that haven’t really been written for ellie! also don’t mind my grammar. and please don’t leave any hate i’m trying lmfao.

Warnings-I don’t own any of tlou characters etc I only own my own character hailey nothing else. smut, dom ellie, sub reader, flirting, sexting, tension, sexual games, praising and degrading kink etc if there are any more lmk!

I’m in the car with my best friend Ellie Williams we are on our way back to the University of Wyoming. I’ve known Ellie since freshman year of high school, she and Joel had just moved to Jackson and luckily the house right next to mine. Ever since I met her and introduced her to my friends we had all bonded. The music had pulled me out of my thoughts when I heard ‘diamond eyes’ by deftones come on “Ellie turn it up I love this song!” she chuckled a bit and complied. It was a couple hour drive so I eventually feel asleep to my music.

Ellie’s POV-

“hey Hailey could you skip this song?” after a few seconds of silence i look over and see her sleeping. she is so beautiful. i’ve had a crush on her ever since I met here except i’ve never made a move because were best friends and i thought she was a straight as a fucking ruler until she came out not to long ago. I sighed frustrated with myself for being so blind but all my thoughts go away when i look at her again. i take a quick photo of her knowing all i’m going to do is stare at it later and be a delusional loser lesbian. I take a deep breath as i prepare myself for this year of college. i mean i’ve had feelings for her for years this year won’t be any different.

Hailey’s POV-

it had been a few hours of dina and i unpacking and we were practically finished. i dragged my feet to my bed groaning as i let myself fall onto it. “Dinaaaaaa i’m so bored” i said over dramatically “then why don’t we go over to ellie’s hangout and smoke?” i shot up and shouted at her “perfect just let me freshen up and we can go” dina rolled her eyes “you just want to look good for ellie admit it” you shook your head of disbelief “dina your my best friend so that being said i wouldn’t lie to you.. so no but i am extremely horny so maybe” dina laughed “just fuck her already y’all’s tension is so thick it’s like almost distracting” i walked out of our closet in some simple hoodie and sweats applying some lip gloss telling her i was ready.

we both walked out of our dorms taking the elevator down bickering with each other the entire time. i had knocked on ellie’s door i could hear her slightly grown and then trip over something with a bang saying “shit, ow fuck that hurt” as she opens the door. she instantly tried to play it off saying “hey guys come in” we walked in “did you stub your toe again ellie?” she blushed and shook her head “no your just imagining things” i replied with a sure giggling at her awkwardness. “sooo why are you guys here?” she asked while glancing over to me. she was wearing black sweats and a black tank top witch silver jewelry, was she trying to seduce me? “haileyyyy” she said while waving her hand in-front of my face snapping me back to reality “hmm?” dina laughed slightly saying “she’s in a horny day dream right now don’t mind her, we got bored so we thought, smoke with ellie?” she said shrugging “dude i’m not in a horny sex day dream i was just spaced out” i huffed “are you sure about that?” ellie said as she sat down right beside me pulling my feet into her lap. “yea i’m pretty sure ellie” i said confused where all her confidence came from “if you say so babe” she said while staring at you leaning back. flustered you look away at dina “so are we going to smoke or just sit here?” ellie got up saying i’ll be right back. She came back with a couple pre rolls finch you and her one to share and dina her own. y’all had been smoking for a while now laughing with each other over nothing. “dina how come plants get life from the sun but we get aged-“ your breath hitched as ellie started to rub your thigh up and down caressing your legs getting a little to high up your thigh at times. “i would love to talk about that more but i promised jesse i would see him tonight” me and ellie got up to say goodbye and lock the door behind her. i mentally cursed out dina for leaving me be with ellie while i was high and horny.

Ellie’s POV-

as i closed the door i turned around to see hailey looking back at me with her droopy red eyes, a glint of mischief i rarely see. i grab her hand and lead her back to the couch pulling her close to me hugging her waist. “you wanna smoke some more?” i ask hoping for a yes “obviously” she said chuckling. i spark it up again, take a hit, and hand it back to her. “so what did dina mean by that horny day dream?” she looked at me taking another hit, “i don’t think you really want to know” i smile slightly pulling her body impossibly closer “i really do” i said challenging her, “don’t get all shy on my now” teasing her.

Hailey’s POV-

I suck in my breath not sure how to get out of this situation. i stare back at her, she looks so hot right now she was teasing me earlier and i’m really horny how am i not going to give in. “Truth or dare? i ask hoping to avoid that particular topic. “dare” ellie said not breaking eye contact, “okay i dare you to do a shotgun with me” it’s okay if i give into a little temptation right? ellie smirked as she picked up the joint with her long veiny hands. ellie stares at me “sit on my lap” i only smirk at this and comply to her demand straddling her. ellie takes a hit sits down the joint and takes my neck with one hand resting her other only my waist gripping tight as she blows smoke into my mouth. I close my eyes feeling euphoric as she pushes slightly on my pressure points making feel light headed. i can only focus on the fact of how close our lips are to fully touching it making me whimper slightly. “what baby, what’s wrong?” ellie says smirking knowing what i want. “you know what i want ellie just give it to me already” i whine, “your gonna have to try a little harder than that, beg.” she stated as she slightly pushed my hips down onto her thigh. still in disbelief i smile lightly “i’m not going to beg ellie”

[aswrm]

Geoff Rickly in ‘Negatives’ by Amy Fleisher Madden

Transcript below

An Introduction to the Third Wave

Geoff Rickly

Thursday / No Devotion / United Nations

Everything is hardcore. Snapcase is hardcore.

Obviously. Strife and Chain of Strength and Bad Brains are hardcore. Sick of It All is hardcore, and they're from New York, so they spell it NYHC.

Shelter is hardcore and 108 is hardcore, and they're both Krishna, which means people call them Krishnacore. Earth Crisis and SSD are hardcore, but they don't do drugs; straight-edge hardcore.

There are so many little signifiers in place to help people know what's up, but each one of these bands does actually have something in common: They are all hard as nails. They're hardcore.

It was the mid-'90s. I'd moved out of the dorms at Rutgers and into a house on Somerset Street with my old roommate, Clay, and my new housemate, Louis. We were a good twenty-minute walk from campus, but the house was weirdly small on the inside; it got bad light. But it had a big basement.

Big enough to have shows in. Hardcore shows.

Luckily, by the mid-'90s, hardcore was everything, and everything was hardcore.

Converge was hardcore-full of guitars and drums that sounded like broken glass in a blender. But so was Rainer Maria, with twinkling clean guitars and dual vocals whispering and shouting in a joyous conversation. So were Ink & Dagger, in their corpse paint, smashing Aphex Twin electronics into Black Flag riffs. Fugazi was hardcore with a rhythm section that sounded like James Brown and a no-slam-dancing policy. Texas Is the Reason had twangy vocals and the most beautiful guitar parts that anyone had ever heard, and they were fucking hardcore-with the pedigree to prove it. They were one of the groups that inspired the latest wave of bands who were all playing shows in our basement, and in other basements like ours all over America: The Get Up Kids, The Promise Ring. Jimmy Eat World. They were all catchy and sweet, and full of youthful innocence. And they were all hardcore, too. Everything was. The basement show was like an Olive Garden:

If you were there, you were family-you were hardcore.

But holy shit, did we love to tease those bands— "You guys are so emotional, you're so fucking emo." Stick a tap in them and let the tears flow. That's all emo was to us: a taunt, a ribbing, a genre label that had never really stuck. I remember seeing Fugazi in the early '90s and someone yelled at lan MacKaye, "You are so emo!" His reply was simple and seemed to shut down the label forever. He said, "Emo Philips?" —forcing the crowd to think of the awkward comedian, with his strange bob haircut.

So, years later, when we had a great young hardcore band from Princeton play in our basement, we shouted at them, "Oh my god, Saves the Day are so emo." Their singer, Chris, acknowledged it dryly: "Boo hoo." Or that time when At the Drive-In destroyed the Melody Bar in front of a crowd of five people. I told them, "That was so good, I could have cried. but I didn't want anyone to thinkI was emo."

We didn't know we were already part of it. A joke or not, we were already emo. When we started Thursday, we thought we were just another hardcore band in the wave of hardcore bands that we looked up to: Saetia, You and I, Usurp Synapse, Orchid, Reversal of Man, The Locust, Charles Bronson.

Our friends. Our heroes. We were playing the same basements and VFW halls. We were buying the same vans and using the same dialers to get free calls on pay phones. We didn't know that, even as our own band took off, we were already emo, and we were about to be part of something new.

After Full Collapse came out on Victory Records-a very hardcore label —we spent a lot of time tracing the footsteps of all those who d come before. We played to five or ten people a night, occasionally landing a festival where we'd do anything to get people to stick around. "Yeah, we have a three-way split with Joy Division and Swing Kids, but we're sold out of them right now... Still, we're playing after Dragbody if you've got the time to watch us."

Then Saves the Day offered us a spot opening for them on a national tour. Our friend Dan from the band Joshua explained to us that Saves the Day was the biggest band in hardcore. They'd hit the indie glass ceiling-they'd sold 100,000 records without being on a major label. We took the tour - first of four in front of 1,000 people every night-and something clicked. The very next tour we went out on, we were the headliner, and it was entirely sold out before we even left home. Something was happening. We broke through the 100,000 record glass ceiling, shooting to 400,000 records. All our friends were right behind us, in the next couple years, hitting a million records sold and more.

The press has always been a little tone deaf, and they'd already been using the term emo for years, so they tried to find something new and catchy for this rapidly developing phenomenon. They tried screamo, except not everyone was screaming- and the bands hated it. Emocore, except that term somehow sounded even wimpier than just emo-and the bands hated it. They even tried the term xtremo, and tried to line us up to play X Games-type events, with cans of Mountain Dew stacked on our amps, but the sponsors weren't sure about the crossover appeal-and the bands hated it.

[photo id: geoff leaning back into the crowd. he is shouting, with one arm raised above/behind his head and crowd members’ arms round his torso]

In the middle of all this, I had the chance to produce the first album from a scrappy bunch of hard. core kids who loved Placebo and Queen and comic books. They were called My Chemical Romance, and by their second record, they would solidify something that had been becoming apparent for the last couple of years: The 2000s were the decade of emo. It was everywhere. It was fashion and TV and billboards. It was celebrity. It was gossip.

And when money gets involved, things can quickly go to shit. Emo got increasingly commercial. It was codified. It was slick. It had songwriters and mega producers. It had A-listers directing music videos.

The only thing it lacked was sincere emotion. The feeling was gone. A pretty tough break for a genre called emo.

By the 2010s, being emo was about the uncoolest thing in the world. The heavy hitters started breaking up. Not just the early torchbearers like us or our West Coast buds, Thrice, but the big guns, too.

My Chemical Romance called it quits, and suddenly bands started dropping likeflies. Pop singers dropped the emo haircuts. Things cooled off.

But then, half a decade later, something strange started to happen. The young kids began to go back to the roots of the genre, appreciating the earnest sincerity and adventurous musicality that made emo break out in the first place. The Hotelier, Teen Suicide, The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, Joyce Manor, Hop Along-these bands brought emo out of the boardroom and back into the basement, bashing away at a glorious noise until the world started to notice. This

"emo revival" was actually the birth of something new. It inspired Thursday to start playing again, and it inspired so many of our peers to do the same.

We've gotten the opportunity to see this thing that we gave our hearts to through newer, purer eyes.

Watching Pianos Become the Teeth and Title Fight and Touché Amoré burn with passionate intensity has reignited our fire. Seeing these photos, through Amy's eyes- seeing the vitality that has always been there-is much the same. It's changed everything, allowing us to restore a true relationship to our past work.

Recently, I had the opportunity to stand on stage with Thursday and watch a sea of kids scream along to these words from "War All The Time":

All those nights in the basement,

The kids are still screaming

On and on and on and on and ...

And it was pretty hardcore-emotionally speaking.

[undressmewithyoureyes]

Run For Me - ONE

               Something about today felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the air felt heavy. Like the air after a heavy rain on a summer’s day. My heart raced faster than normal, even without having any alcohol in my system…yet.

               My friends and I decided to have a little getaway this weekend. A little relaxation after the exams from college. How I got blessed with the absolute best of friends, that question will forever remain a mystery. We are so much alike but also so different in so many ways – it makes for the perfect friendships.

               Callie, River and I have been friends since elementary school. Inseparable since the first grade. We did go a summer without talking between fourth and fifth grade because Callie was talking to my boyfriend Jeremy who went to another school. Only to find out, it wasn’t her fault. He kept telling her that we weren’t together but telling me not to post anything because he liked having me all to himself.

               Jordan came into our lives in high school. She was a new student who started in the middle of our freshman year of high school. Her parents went through a nasty divorce. Her mom won custody and flew her hundreds of miles away to our small town in Oklahoma to “settle down”. Jordan hated it and kept to herself, but we took her under our wing and have never looked back.

               We all made it into the same College – Dreadfire University in Oklahoma. Luckily for us, we were able to get dorms right across the hall from one another – each of us having one of our own to share our room. I got Callie. Jordan and River share theirs.

               For the past several months, we’ve had a curfew on campus due to murders going around the area. Apparently, couples staying in this Airbnb in the woods kept ending up missing – later to be found dead. And not just any kind of dead but chopped up or stabbed to death. Of course, our mothers call us multiple times a day to tell us to be careful and to scream if we see anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully, they invented this wonderful thing called pepper spray.

               “Oh my God, I cannot wait to get fucked up,” Jordan says as she rests her head back against her headrest in the car – pulling me out of my memories.

               Callie snorts as she watches the road but throwing her hand up letting us know she’s on board with Jordan’s obligation. Callie has always been the ‘mother’ of the group I guess you could say. She can party her ass off, but she also has the nurturing side that just comes so damn natural to her.

               “Where did you say this place was again Jordan?” River asks from beside me. We took Jordan’s Jeep Wrangler in case we found any trails we wanted to drive down. It’s the middle of summer and we have the top and the doors off. As of right now, life is great.

               Jordan pulls out her phone and opens the Airbnb app. “It says ‘The Home Away from Home’”.

               “Let me see,” River extends her hand and takes Jordans phone. “No fucking way.”

               I look over at River and scrunch my brows, “What?”

               River looks up from the phone at me, then to Jordan and then to Callie from the rear-view mirror, “Jordan, you booked the cursed cabin?”

               The cursed cabin.

               That’s what we nicknamed the cabin where all those couples end up slaughtered.

               And now it clicked. That’s why something feels off. Me? I’ve always been quiet. I’m the odd ball out of the group. While Callie, Jordan and River love the sunshine and beach, I love the moonlight and cemeteries. Death is welcoming to me. The darkness consumes me, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

               “How the fuck was I supposed to know that this was the cursed cabin? It has great reviews, and it looks really nice,” Jordan says in her defense.

               River throws her head back and laughs, “Great reviews? It has one star with no description.”

               My eyes dart to Callie who has a shit grin on her face and is shaking her head back and forth. “Good job Jordan.”

               Jordan reaches back and snatches her phone from River, who flips her off in the process, “Look,” Jordan starts, “If we see some guys in masks coming to kill us, we’ll just fuck them. I mean, you’re into that kinda shit, Chloe”.

               Fuck you.

               A few years ago, we were at this party a girl from high school was throwing for Halloween and I ended up giving this dude in a Scream mask the best blowjob he’s ever been given. Since then, slashers in masks have become my weakness. The girls found out and have been giving me shit ever since – which earned me the nickname “soul snatcher”. Again, the weird one out of the group.

               “At least I know I’m going to live,” I counter back with a full grin.

               To look at us, you wouldn’t think we would be as close of friends as we are. Callie is the tall tomboy who loves to play volleyball and rugby. Jordan and River are the beach blondes who cheer and get all the boys attention. And me, I’m the black-haired girl who wardrobe is mainly black and when I feel like I want to add some color, I’ll add a little grey.

               “Wait,” Callie says chiming into this conversation, “Lets not be sexist. What if the killers are women?”

               “I kissed Harper on a dare at that party last year. I will gladly do it again and other things if my life depended on it,” Jordan says without missing a beat.

               I snort causing Jordan to turn around in the front seat and look at me, “What about you then soul snatcher?”

               A shit eating grin crawls across my face, “As long as they keep the mask on, I’ll do whatever.”

               “God Chloe, you’re sick!” River yells and she shoves me. I let out a laugh and throw my head back.

≈

               Half an hour later, were pulling up to the cursed cabin. Its cute and looks nothing like how they describe it in the news articles. Maybe River was just fucking with us, and this isn’t THE cabin. The house sits on a brick foundation, but the siding is the original wood. It gives off the rustic feeling, but you can tell it has been very well kept.

               “If I was to die here, I would be okay with that,” Callie says.

               “Callie!” Jordan screams slapping Callies arm.

               Callie has her dark ways, but she doesn’t let it show most of the time. We grab our bags and head to the front porch of the cabin. I don’t see any other doors, except the main door at the front of the house. That dark feeling settles in at the bottom of my stomach. Again, something is off.

               Jordan is the first one up the steps and onto the porch. Theres a refrigerator outside on the porch and she heads straight to it. I watch as she opens the door and pulls a yellow envelope from inside. She shuts the door, opens the envelope and a small key falls into her hand.

               “That’s real safe,” River says sarcastically.

               Jordan rolls her eyes, “Its in the middle of nowhere. Obviously if someone is here who doesn’t have or know where the key is, they shouldn’t be here.”

               “Can you just open the door? Its hot,” I ask as I’m the last one to walk up the stairs.

               “What’s the matter Chloe? Your moonlight tan not working for you?” River says with a chuckle.

               I set my bags on the porch and flip her off. To the average person, we would be the most confusing people to be around. One minute were best of friends – the next, we turn feral with our shit talking. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

               “I feel like I cant fucking breathe in this heat,” I say as my cheeks turn red from the humidity of the cruel summer air.

               Jordan walks to the door and puts the key in, “Well lucky for you soul snatcher, I am granting you a wish.” The lock clicks and she pushes the door open. Even from a few feet away, I immediately feel the cool air from inside.

               Fuck standing out here, I’m headed inside where I belong. My milky skin isn’t prepared for the sun.

               “Who’s sleeping where?” River asks as soon as she steps in.

               “We each have our own room and apparently, all the bedrooms come with their own bathrooms too. Theres two bedrooms downstairs and two upstairs,” Jordan tells us.

                Without hesitation, I head for the stairs and Callie follows behind me. I guess just like college. “At least if the killers come, they have to make an effort to get through our windows,” Callie says from behind me.

               I laugh, “But what if they’re already inside?”

               “Then ill just push them down the stairs.”

               “Kinky,” I say as I reach the top of the stairs. I can hear her laughing behind me.

               As soon as we reach the top of the stairs, there is a small loft with a hallway on each side with one door down each hallway. The bedrooms upstairs must be on each side of the cabin – which I like. It gives me privacy.

               “Left or right soul snatcher?” Callie asks me as she also reaches the top of the stairs.

               Without answering, I turn left and head towards the door. I hear Callies footsteps growing distance as she heads in the opposite direction.

               As soon as I reach the door, the air grows even heavier. I try to take in a deep breath, but it feels like something is covering my airway. I turn the doorknob and quickly head into the room. Without looking, I drop my bags and head for the door to the right – hoping it’s the bathroom.

               It is.

               My hand slides up and down the wall frantically trying to find the light switch, as my vision starts to blur. The bathroom lights up and I turn on the cold water at the sink. I cup my hands and bend over to splash cold water on my face. The heavy air around me seeming to wash away the more I splash water on my face.

               I had my first anxiety attack a few years ago when my dad came in high with a gun and threatened to kill my mom and I. He held us at gunpoint until his high started wearing off and then he became my dad again, only to put the gun to his own head and pull the trigger. Not too many people can say they’ve lived through that.

               But I can…sadly.

               I grip the sides of the sink, my chest heaving as I stare at my soaked face in the mirror. If it wasn’t for Callie, Jordan and River, I’d probably join my dad too. My mom only cares about me if she hasn’t talked to me in a while, but I get yelled at because I haven’t reached out to her. Make that make sense.

               I grab the hand towel from the wall and dry my face. I pull the towel down from my face to hang it back up and gasp at the person wearing a brown sack covered mask behind me by the shower. I whirl around only to find no one there. I close my eyes and take deep breaths to ease my heart from thumping out of my chest.

               Its just a hallucination.

               Its just a hallucination.

               Its just a hallucination.

               I keep telling myself. My shrink told me this is normal after the severity of what I’d seen. They said it can happen at any time of any day. Lucky me, right? I turn off the light of the bathroom and shut the door. I know what I saw, and I know I have never seen anything like that before.

               I’m finally able to take in the bedroom. Its subtle – which is perfect to me. A queen bed sits flush between two windows with two night stands on either side. A dresser on the left wall and a small TV on top of the dresser. Simple.

               I grab my bag and begin putting my clothes in the dresser – my back to the door of the bathroom. The uneasiness of what I saw earlier still cold in my bones. The fact that I feel like I’m being watched doesn’t help either – but just like my shrink told me, “With anxiety comes paranoia, and with paranoia comes anxiety.” Like damn bitch, did you really graduate from Harvard just to tell me that?

               After getting my clothes put up, I decided to lay across the bed to ease my mind. To do these breathing exercises that are supposed to help with the mind, but I say that’s bullshit. It hasn’t worked yet, but neither has the pills I was given to stop with the nightmares.

               Deep breath in through my mouth.

               Hold for five seconds.

               Exhale through my nose slowly.

               Pointless.

               But I keep doing it because I have this hope that if I keep trying to convince myself that it works, it actually will. The sound of the floor creaking from the bathroom, causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I freeze and stop breathing just to make sure I’m not just hearing shit, but my heart pounding in my ears makes it impossible.

               I hear the creak again, but this time it sounds like someone took a step closer. My heart rate picks up and I watch as the brass doorknob to the bathroom slowly turns. My vision starts to darken at the corner of my eyes. No, this cant be happening. Not now.

               “Girl! Did you see this bathroom?!” Callie says as she barges into my room. She glances over at me and heads to the bathroom. Before I can say anything, she jerks open the bathroom door to find no one standing there.

[acidmatze]

I’ll be there for you (Yes, like the Friends theme) Chapter 5

Summary: After being in a coma for two years Vash wakes up, not being able to remember Anything that has happened since he was “a teenager”. How is he gonna adapt to living in a world so strange and unfamilliar? (vaguely TriStamp timeline post ep 12) By finally leaving the hospital and entering his Rehab arc Warnings: None this time Word count: 4.4k Chapters: 1 2 3 4

How did this week pass by so fast?

Vash feels like it was basically yesterday that he woke up to this strange world.

And now he's already standing outside, Karina next to him, waiting for the van that's supposed to bring him to the rehab place.

He's bringing several bags with him. Two of them filled with the new clothes he got the other day.

It is still somewhat dark outside, the suns barely grazing the horizon so its also really cold. Vash can see his breath when breathing out.

He's wearing his new jacket. It's black with red arrows going zig zag from the top left to the bottom right.

One small bag is full of his electronics stuff.

Last Friday Karina suddenly brought him a phone as well.

And another one is filled with hygiene stuff like shower gel and shampoo and towels and lotion to put on his scars when they ache and of course toothbrush and toothpaste and other necessities.

His new meds are in there as well.

On Thursday Dr. Nichols did a whole battery of tests with him.

Among other things testing his working memory and attention.

He then concluded that Vash has ADHD, whatever that was. From what Vash gathered it has to do with his focus and emotional regulation and such.

Vash also spend a lot of time filling out official-looking papers to get an ID and everything sorted out. And a bank account.

„Its so cold... I hope that van is coming soon.“ Karina complains while rubbing her arms.

„Its gonna get hot soon enough, just wait.“

„I'd rather not Wait.“

Other cars are approaching and picking people up or letting people out near constantly. Seems like Mondays are very busy for hospitals.

An ambulance rushes past, sirens blaring.

„I'm gonna call the place if no one's here in 5 minutes!“ Karina declares.

Then a small white minivan drives up to the two and stops.

It would look suspicious if it wasn't for the sticker on the car with a flock of pigeons flying on it, reading „Dove's Wings bus service, car 12“

The driver lets the window down.

„Hey, are you Vash?“

„Yup, that's me.“

The engine stops and the driver gets out to open the trunk.

„I'm Marcel. Put your bags in here. Before I drive you to the dorm I have to stop by the gas station real quick, hope you don't mind.“

„That's fine...“

It's a bit cumbersome to haul the heavy bags into the trunk with only one hand.

Luckily Marcel realises this quickly and helps.

He's a short rather gruff-looking guy with a light buzzcut and pale skin. Vash easily towers over him.

Which is still a really weird experience.

After all, the majority of his Lived Experience Vash was shorter than others.

Even as a teenager everyone else was much taller than him. When did he hit such a giant growth spurt?

Vash climbs into the van next to Marcel.

Karina waves at Vash.

„I will call you in the afternoon when my shift is over, okay? And I will definitely visit you on the weekend. You can't get rid of me.“

Vash chuckles weakly and also waves at his new friend.

„Girlfriend?“

Vash whips around.

„Huh? What-? No! Just a.. a regular friend.“

„Cool, cool.“

Marcel starts the motor and off they go.

Then he turns the radio on.

Vash has no idea about music much, even though Karina did her best to introduce him to as many bands as she could. He does vaguely recognise the singer as someone Karina likes.

Its a nice unoffending voice with nice unoffending guitar. Nothing that Vash would listen to in his free time though.

Then Marcel lights up a cigarette and offers the cigarette pack to Vash.

„Do you smoke?“ „Uh.. no, thanks.“

„Good for you. Don't start. Its a waste of money. How old are you?“

„153.“

Marcel barks out a laugh.

„Good joke!“

„28 then.“

„Seriously? You don't look a day over 19 or something. You got a serious case of baby face, my guy.“

„Yeah... I've heard that quite often.“ Vash lies.

He hasn't heard it at all but feels like this is the appropriate response.

They are driving through what seems to be the oldest dictrict of the city.

It seems to be emulating ancient 17th century central european architecture but Vash can't say how accurate it is.

Shops on the ground floor, apartments on top all crammed next to each other.

And so many people outside already, even though it is still early in the day.

„It's not winter yet so school and work still start at 6, so most of the work can be crammed in before it gets hot.“ Marcel explains, as if he can read Vash's thoughts.

„And in winter?“

„Eh... 7-8ish. No mid-day break either but instead everyone can go home earlier overall. Allegedly on Earth seasons actually meant something in many cultures but here it only tells you when the suns will rise and set. Except for fall. If it rains then it rains in fall.“

Rain.

Vash only has seen rain once so far in his life.

He was so excited he immediately ran outside and Brad dragged him back inside the ship and scolded him for getting the floor muddy.

It rained hard for maybe half an hour and then it was over. Within an hour the sand was back to its usual dry and hot state and everything carried on as if it hadn't rained at all.

What Vash had witnessed relatively often though were dry thunderstorms.

Now the scenery is changing.

The road gets broader and now has two lanes in each direction. The buildings become more modern and brighter, to deflect the suns.

Then they turn right into a smaller street again, probably now entering a more residential area.

The buildings that previously were all at least three to four stories tall are now getting smaller and less dense. Small shops line the road here and there.

Apartment buildings turn into row houses and then slowly into small family homes.

They pass a small park and Vash stares at the large lusciously green trees.

Then more houses. Kids waiting at a bus stop.

It's so weird to see a place like this. So full of life. Full of people doing their thing.

Not hanging by a thread.

They enter a slightly wider road again and a little later Marcel stops at the gas station.

„I'll be back in a minute. You want some snacks? I can get you some.“

„Uh... some chocolate bars? But no white chocolate or coconut.“

Marcel lets out a small grunt in acknowledgement.

„Alright. You get the kiddie chocolate.“

The van door slams shut.

Kiddie chocolate...

Vash watches Marcel while he recharges the car's battery. Its weird that „gas station“ is a word that's still so widely used even though almost no vehicle on this planet uses gas.

Its most likely a leftover from Earth English.

Vash watches the scene outside.

Some more kids and teens, probably on their way to school.

People on bicycles. Many many cars.

It is still so weird to Vash to see this many people in one place. He can't imagine the scope of the entire city.

What little distance they have covered so far already feels incredibly large to him.

Do the people who live here even know how harsh the desert is? Being here is so incredibly different from the ship.

Vash can barely believe he's still on the same planet.

Has Nai ever been in a city as well? Where even is he now? And will Vash ever see him again?

Well, he probably already has but can't remember.

But before he has the time to ponder about this more, Marcel returns.

He dumps a few chocolate bars in Vash's lap.

„Sorry they only had coconut and white chocolate.“

For the fraction of a second Vash is inclined to believe the man but before he can embarrass himself he realises it's a joke.

„Guess I have to puke all over the van then.“

„If you clean it, be my guest.“

The ride continues in silence, except for the radio.

Vash opens the packaging of the chocolate and starts eating.

He didn't eat anything at the hospital this morning, he was way too nervous.

Its nougat, the chocolate.

Which is good because Vash really likes that. He opens the second bar and basically shoves it in his mouth with one go.

Marcel lets out a snort but doesn't say anything.

„I haven't eaten anything yet.“

„I'm not judging. Just laughing. You don't behave like an adult.“

There it is.

Vash almost shrinks into his seat.

Then how is an adult supposed to to behave? He hasn't figured that out yet.

He was about to open the third bar but lets it drop back into his lap instead. Suddenly he doesn't feel hungry anymore.

There's no way he's gonna fit in anywhere like this.

But it's not like he can help it, dammit!

Some part of him is still 15 and it will probably take a long time until that changes.

„Hey kiddo, why are you crying?“

Huh?

Vash pulls out a tissue from his pocket and blows his nose.

„I don't like being told that I don't behave like an adult. I know I don't. I can't change this.“

Marcel nods.

„I wasn't making fun of you, you know? If I would then i would have the wrong job. I drive people around who can't get into this van without help. Who can't fasten their seatbelt. Whose pants i have to pull up before they get in cuz they don't know how to use their belts after going to the bathroom. Who don't even realise when they need to go to the bathroom so sometimes they pee their pants during the ride. I also drive people around who don't talk. Who talk too much. Who talk a whole lot but not very well. Who say the same word over and over. I'm not judging anyone. My ego isn't blown up like that.“

„Will I meet them?“

„Eventually I suppose. But you're mentally ill so you live in a different section of the grounds. You'll meet them at work then. I also drive people like you around. Plenty.“

Vash can't imagine people like this. Luckily soon he wont have to use his imagination anymore but will experience it in real life.

They are back in a residential area. Small apartments and houses everywhere.

„We're there in a second. Look here's the convenience store. You wont have to walk far to get there. Just down this road. There's a bus stop. That line will take you directly to the old town, where we started out. Maybe not the most exciting part of the city but there are many nice small shops and cafés. And the biggest cinema in the city is there as well, in case you like movies. I think your group will go there from time to time.“

They make another right turn and Vash recognises this street from the photos.

They have indeed arrived.

Marcel parks under a tree in front of a wide two story tall red brick building.

There is a dark-skinned woman with glasses and long black hair waiting outside.

Vash and Marcel get out the van and Marcel shakes the woman's hand.

„Morning Nancy.“

„Good morning Marcel. I see you brought our new resident?“

„Yeah, that's Vash. Vash, that's Nancy.“ Nancy walks towards Vash and eagerly shakes his hand as well.

„Hi, I'm Nancy. I'm the leader of the group you will live in. Everyone will be so happy to meet you. Two weeks ago half of the group moved out into a different dorm and since then it has been way too quiet. Let me help you with your bags.“

The bags, that Marcel unloaded in the meantime.

He nods at Nancy.

„Well then. You got everything under control here. I'll go then and pick up the daycare patients.“

Nancy turns to Vash and basically beams at him.

„Let's take your bags inside first so I can show you your room and then we have to return to this building for a bit to do all the administrative stuff. Do you have any issues with walking?“ „Nah, just my left arm that's not doing so hot.“

„Great! I mean, that you can walk. Not that you lost your arm. Cuz we will have to walk a bit to your dorm. It's further down the road and then we turn left.“

They pass two other buildings, one to the left and one to the right.

The one on the left looks a bit like a school but smaller than what Vash had seen previously. But it has a schoolyard and a small playground and all.

The building to the right looks rather plain with chipped beige walls and a flat roof. The windows are just a tad bigger than the air conditioning unit on the wall.

„Villa Marigold“ says a blue sign outside.

„That doesn't look like a Villa...“ Vash mumbles and Nancy starts laughing.

„Well, we can't exactly call it Hut either, right? It will get renovated soon though.“

Hopefully it will get some bigger windows then. And a new coat of paint.

Another similar building is standing next to the „Villa“ but this one Does have a more colourful appearance. Its painted in a light blue colour and someone drew a flock of doves over the entrance.

They make a left turn just when Vash has spotted something looking suspiciously like a greenhouse far down the street.

„Wait! Is that a greenhouse?“

He points at it.

„Oh? Yeah it is. Good eye! We don't have time to go and look at it now but since you're gonna live here now you can go and look at it whenever you to from later on. You could also work there if you want. Do you like plants?“

Does he likes plants? „I... I have no idea. But I've never seen a greenhouse or.. many plants at all. So I'm just curious.“

„That's fine. Its good to be curious about things. Keeps your brain sharp.“

Sadly Vash feels his brain is as dull as a 6 hours math lesson.

Or the edge of a paper tissue. Depending on what meaning of „dull“ you have in mind.

The dorm they now enter is three stories tall and has a slightly sloped roof, unlike the majority of the other buildings which all have flat roofs.

It is painted slightly off-white and the paint looks new as well.

The stairway looks old and made of dark wood. Their steps echo slightly.

Nancy opens a yellow heavy-looking door.

„Fire-proof doors“ she explains „Your room will also have one. Almost all doors in the dorms are like this so get used to having to push a little harder.“

They are now standing in a large hallway with windows to the yard outside to the right light grey carpet and the walls are painted in a very light peach colour.

Paintings that look very much like the people living here painted them are everywhere on the walls.

Around the door that seems to be leading to the kitchen is a flower mural.

„Okay your room is number 105 so we go left.“

The room doors look like they are made of light wood but since they are supposedly fire-proof that can't be true.

They are probably painted to look like wood or something, Vash muses.

There's a little nook with armchairs and a very cozy-looking couch as well.

Vash hears two girls' voices from the staircase on the other end of the hallway, leading upstairs to the third floor.

„Have you seen Joe during assembly? He looked like he was about to fall asleep again.“

„Yeah I tried waking him up for breakfast earlier but he didn't wanted to open the door. I told him on Saturday not to drink so much when we went to club but of course he didn't listen.“

„Sounds like a killer hangover.“

„Totally. Anyway, we should hurry and get the kitchen cleaned up before someone complains again.“

They walk in the opposite direction as Nancy and Vash.

Nancy stops in front of room 105.

„Okay this is your room.“

She digs in her pocket and pulls out a small key which she then hands to Vash.

„And this is your key to the room. You will also later be given a key for the front door downstairs but our director hands those out, not us. Not every resident has one mind you. We got some troublemakers we can't just let come and go as they please. But don't worry about that.“

Vash opens the door.

He doesn't know what he expected his room to look like but certainly not like this.

Probably more like a hospital room?

This room is fairly large but mostly empty except for a desk with an office chair, an armchair made out of bast, a closet, a large mirror, a bed and a nighstand.

The floor is laminate made to look like wood in a similar shade as the door.

The curtains look rather heavy and have an old-fashioned plaid pattern on them.

The walls are white but not clinical-looking and overall the room is open and bright.

There's a door, probably leading to the bathroom.

Vash puts all of his bags down next to the bed and walks around the room once.

Yes, the door does indeed lead to a small-ish bathroom.

„I know this looks rather dull and empty. You can get your own furniture and rugs and put anything on the wall that you like but if it has to be hung on a nail then ask us first. Though I would advise you to wait a month or two with playing interior designer.

So we can determine how long you will be staying in this room. Would be annoying if you had to move just when you got cozy in here and then find out you can't fit all your furniture in the new room.“

Then they leave for the admin building.

But on the way down Nancy runs into a colleague who informs her that the person they want to talk to is actually right now in This building in the office section so they walk back up.

„Well I guess I show you the admin building at another time.“

They go back up the stairs but this time turn right in the hallway.

A guy with spiky red hair is mopping the staircase at the end.

In contrast to the one they just walked up this one is much newer and almost looks like its made of something like rubber?

Vash can't tell what material it is but it has some big anti-slip nubs on the steps.

Nancy taps the guy on the shoulder who takes his headphones off.

„Hey Paul, is Mr. Friesen in his office right now?“

„Uh... Yeah but he's in a meeting.“

The guy, Paul, nods at Vash.

„Are you new?“

„Yeah I just... I just moved in.“ „Cool, cool. Don't mind the ghost.“

Vash winces.

„A ghost??“

Paul shrugs.

„I dunno I haven't seen it either but a few guys upstairs say they have seen one here. Like, they wanted to talk to a counselor and it looked like someone was in the office cuz they saw a shadow in the glass but when they got closer it vanished. I think it's rubbish but figured I should warn you.“

Nancy chuckles.

„I don't believe it one bit. You know how they are upstairs. Sometimes they get bored and cook up some Scary Stories to tell the younger peeps.“

Seems like some really funny people are living here.

Maybe Vash wont stand out that much after all.

They continue walking.

„Okay if Mr. Friesen is not available right now then I will show you the rest of the dorm.“

The next hallway is overall darker than the one Vash's room is in. Obviously, because this one doesn't have any windows but doors to each side, most likely leading to the other people's rooms.

There's a ping pong table standing right in the middle of the hallway.

That seems a bit stupid and dangerous to Vash but also very funny.

One door is open and Vash can look right into someone's room.

To prevent the door from slamming shut a stool was put in front of it.

The person who probably belongs to this room is sitting in a beanbag in front of a TV and plays a video game.

Loud music is blasting out into the hallway.

„Are you just allowed to do that?“ Vash asks.

„Do what?“ „Play loud music with the door open.“ he clarifies.

„Sure. It's not like people are sleeping right now. At least, they shouldn't be. This is group 2. You are in group 1 and upstairs is group 3. This is a mixed use building so on the ground floor is the daycare. Daycare means they live off grounds and are brought here every morning and get picked up in the evening. The majority of them are seniors or people otherwise not able to work in the workshop. Usually we don't run into each other a lot.“

They walk past the kitchen.

„We cook our own lunch here. Each group has a kitchen and two people are doing the cooking together. They also plan the grocery shopping which we are doing.. actually right now. That's why no one's in there. Each Monday we take the big van and drive down to the store to get most of the things needed for the entire week. Sometimes we also do this on Fridays again cuz we also cook together on the weekends. At least when enough people stay here over the weekend. The majority of the time though almost everyone leaves to go to their parents or visit friends. You are also free to do that of course.“

There is yet another staircase at the end of this hallway that they take upstairs to look at group 3 as well.

Nothing much is different here except that they have a foosball table in the hallway. There is also a big room with huge windows and the wall to the hallway is glass as well.

Nancy explains that this is the assembly room but sometimes they also do other therapy things in there. Another room up here that the other groups don't have is the computer room. Everyone is free to use the computers if they don't have their own.

And back downstairs they go.

Mr. Friesen got done with his meeting in the meantime so now it's time for even more paperwork.

Meeting Mr. Friesen and getting all the paperwork done took an hour and now Vash's head is swimming.

He wishes he would get a break now but unfortunately the day is just beginning.

The weekly schedule he has in his hand says that before lunch he will meet his psychologist. After lunch his physical therapist. Later in the evening there's a nordic walking group but Vash has no idea what that is. There's a note telling him that's outside though.

He walks next to Nancy who is taking him back to his room.

„Saverem, huh? I was told you can't remember your family name. Did you remember or...?“ „Mom's family name. Well, not literally Mom but.. kind of... I don't know who my actual mom is.“

„Well, now it's also your name. So now you're her son for real.“

Her son for real...

He can't dwell on that because as they pass the kitchen someone from in there is shouting: „Hey! New guy! Come here for a bit!“

Nancy grabs Vash's arm and drags him into the kitchen.

„Well, well, well that's a great opportunity to meet the rest of the group! Hello everyone, this is Vash! Say Hi to Vash.“ „Hi Vash.“ the small group of four people parrots.

„Uh... hi...“

Four people, two girls and two guys are staring at him like he's an endangered animal.

„What happened to your arm???“ one of the girls suddenly yells. Shes short and round and has big glasses and pigtails and doesn't actually look to be much older than 18.

„Chelsea! You don't randomly ask people what happened to their arms!“ an equally short but very skinny boy says in a hushed but urgent tone. He looks just as young.

Vash lets out a weak unsure chuckle.

„Shark got me.“

„A what?“ Chelsea is still pointing at him „You're a liar! There are no sharks on No Man's Land!“

A tall man with nerdy glasses and very short dark hair speaks up.

„We usually call that one a Joke. Forgive her, she just says whatever is in her head. Which is a whole lot so you might want to invest in earplugs. I'm Steven, I'm the current group president. And those two are Melvin“ -the young guy with glasses who is still shushing Chelsea- „and Anna.“ He points at a girl who looks like the exact opposite of Chelsea.

Nancy nods at the group and seems very happy about the developments.

„I see you're talking to each other just fine. Maybe Vash can help you with the lunch prep? How is everything going anyways?“

„We are almost done cutting the vegetables and honestly there isn't much to do then. I'm gonna put the steaks in a pan in an hour or so, Melvin takes care of the rice. Yeah.. that's basically it.“ Steven answers.

„I uh... I have to go to my appointment soon..“ Vash reminds Nancy.

„Oh yeah I almost forgot about that. You do that. I see you all for lunch!“

[the-hufflepuff-cupcake]

Face Down

*Cover up with make up in the mirror

Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again

You cry alone and then he swears he loves you*

You sat in your dorm room by yourself after your fight with your boyfriend. He loves you and you know it. sometimes he just gets upset and it was your fault you egged him on you knew he was stressed about NEWTs and Quidich and you asked him about a rumor about some girl in his year being more than flirty and friendly with him. He had gotten so upset that he went to punch the wall beside your head and ended up punching your right eye pretty hard. After it happened, Derek scoffed and said it was your fault anyway for getting upset over nothing. He had left for the Ravenclaw common room. You sighed, wiping your eyes, and pulled out the makeup you kept in your trunk. You had convinced yourself that it was only a one-time thing. He wasn't gonna hit you again because of course he loves you.... right?

*Hey girl you know you drive me crazy

One look puts the rhythm in my hand

Still I'll never understand why you hang around

I see what's going down*

The next day, you were still holding onto that makeup pallet to make sure no one could see the purplish bruise on your eye. Luckily, it hadn't gotten swollen. Otherwise, you'd have had to go to Madame Pomfrey for healing positions. Your best friend's brothers who were also some of your friends were in the same year as Derek you had been hanging out with Ron and Harry on the Gryffindor table when the twins had decided to sneak up behind you. You covered up a scream with a squeal when you felt someone poke your side you turned around surprised and saw no other than George himself smiling down at you trying to contain his laughter at your squeal while his twin did not. You smiled up at the older boy with what looked like sadness to him, but he was interrupted when Derek came up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, making you jump, covering your face slightly. " Hey, babe." He said, sitting next to you on the bench. Looking down at your slightly shakey hands you answer him " hey" "Let's get you to class we don't want you running late," Derek insisted standing up and grabbing onto your hand roughly you gasped in pain trying not to show it. " Freddy, doesn't Y/N have a class with Ron and Harry? " George asks the older twin, looking after you two with worry. He knows what's happening, and he doesn't like what he's seeing

*A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect

Every action in this world will bear a consequence

If you wait around forever you will surely drown

I see what's going down*

Derek had your arm held tightly in his hand when he shoved you up against a wall. You gasped, trying to hide the pain from your back, hitting the wall and him gripping your arm so tight. Ron and Harry walk at a slightly quicker pace, trying to keep up with the older boys as they walk quickly to their muggle studies class just a few doors down from your potions class. Ron Gasped seeing you up against the wall with a look of worry over Derek's shoulder " D, there are people here let's talk about this later" you say quietly hoping it soothes him but even The boys you called your friends could hear the tremble in your voice Derek held both your shoulders roughly shoving you again you groaned when your shoulder where there was already a blue and purple bruise from Derek pushing you into an edge post of your bed. But when George heard you groan, he couldn't help himself he was pacing forward with a clenched fist already having Fred holding his things. Before you could say anything else, George had Derek on the ground repeatedly punching him it took Fred and another one of the older boys to get him off. "Don't touch Y/N again."

*Do you feel like a man

When you push her around?

Do you feel better now, as she falls to the ground?

Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's got to end

As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found*

After the incident with George and Derek, you hadn't been able to go see any of your friends. It's been about a week. You were walking with Derek to lunch when suddenly he grabbed your wrist tightly. "What's going on with you and George Weasley?" He asked in a low growl. Your eyebrows furrowed. "He's my friend D, there's nothing to worry about lm with you." Answering his question you stared into his eyes " Whatever, it's time for lunch, let's go" he grumbles not believing you but not bringing it up in such a public place around the school. You follow him trying to grab his hand but sighing when he pulls his hand out and walked quicker. You sighed walking over to your friends. You held your head in your hands groaning quietly at the ache in your body from the night before. You hadn't noticed you wiped some of your makeup off because your friends had stopped talking staring at you quietly with looks of confusion. "Y/N, what's that? " Hermione asks as she's the one sitting right next to you. You look back at her confused she leans closer and wipes more at where they see the bruise on your very black eye. You sighed leaning away and dipping your napkin in some water giving it to Hermione. She wipes away the rest of your makeup your looking down when you hear George and Fred come up behind you. Keeping your head down willing to keep your tears in your eyes. You didn't look at them when they sat across from you. The twins stop in their tracks as they see the purplish bruise above your eyebrow and going down around your eye and across your nose. George stood up stalking over to Derek who was standing near the Ravenclaw table talking with some girl in his year. He shoved him getting in his face " Do you feel like a man, when you push her around? " He seethed close to Derek's face he punched him on the jaw the punch throwing him to the ground " Stay away from Y/N You're never going to see her by herself again." Derek had shoved you to the ground before anyone could stop him.

[sl1tcl1t]

Life Update: Idk where else to write down my thoughts and experiences for almost the past year.

To get myself caught up with the last post I made from last year, it was my final year in HS and I never wanted to leave that rancid hél/hø\e so damn bad. I finally graduated and got into college. This freshman year is the absolute worst. On top of that, I couldn't get a dorm room, which is expected according to the hierarchy of classmen. But anyway, this year's schedule has been extraordinarily harmful to my physical and mentally. Since I don't have a dorm, I gotta commute to my classes every single day. In my case, I must drive all the way from the south to the city (1hr 30min on avg.) This is not a bad drive, unless u wanna beat the I-75/I-85 9 - 5 traffic. Which ALSO MEANS I gotta wake up at 4:00 am and leave the house by 5 if I want to arrive in time for my 8 and 10 am classes. Additionally, my last class during Mon,Weds, and Fri ends at 5pm. I don't get home till about 7. AND on top of all that, Tue and Thurs is when I work my part time shift. The latest my shift can end is at 7:30pm and it takes me at least 30 mins to get home. If I want to get the most sleep possible, I gotta be in bed by 9. My sleep schedule bc of this is incredibly fùçk3d up. Luckily, me and my friend made a little room for me to sleep in my car. Which is also another problem. Bc Im too damn sleep deprived, I oversleep multiple times and end up missing classes. Classes where I can't easily get a PowerPoint w/readily available info to write. I feel incredibly behind.

My mental and physical health has gotten progressively worse since I moved outta my mom's house. I really don't wanna get into grave detail abt my family, but TLDR; both parents are complexly problematic, but one's more flexible than the other. But, Jesus Christ Almighty, living with this man is insufferable. Nothing but complaining, guiltripping, nonchalant shaming, and being plain irritating. He brings a wave of negative energy anytime he enters a room. Granted, there are things that he complains about that are justified, but he's getting more and more senile everyday. So he just gets mad at anything now. It pisses me off but also makes me sad. Another thing is that work is overexerting my well-being whilst giving me such a low pay. For context, I work in a warehouse now. Lifting boxes every other day that are half the size of you will give you nausea. My feet have blisters and my hands are cramping. My calves burn, my entire arm is aching, and my head pounds harder than ever. My friend suggests that I might have burn out, and I believe it with every bone in my body. Working at a place that accepts newly hs grads, ofc there would be å$5h0lés my age and worse. The smell has gotten worse since I moved in w dad. He essentially lives in a white trash neighborhood, so the smell outside is horrendous. This smell has affected the inside of my house and now I reek. And the ppl at work love to remind me abt my smelly ass despite trying my hardest to mask it. I seriously cannot stand other day in there and hopefully I can get a new job this upcoming summer.

But apart from all this, the cherry on top of this shit show was today after work. I got off early and wanted to visit this little gravesite around in my area to take pics and upload on here. I chickened out. It's too damn dark for me to take any so I walked around, contemplating life per usual. I decided to go inside the convenience store. I asked if there were any sleeping pills/melatonin and the guy had asked a question that made my mind go blank,

"Are you homeless?"

Never in life would I hear those words issued to me, but if I'm gonna be completely honest, I live at my dad's house, not paying any bills or insurance (yet), I sleep in my car majority of the day, and I have the worst pay to labor ratio. So technically, Imma borderline broke ass freeloading bum. But anyway, I was even more in shock when he rang my items. I forgot my wallet in the car and told him I was going to run out n grab it, but he just gave me the bag with an empathetic, "it's okay". And now I feel like a piece of shit to completion. Bc in hindsight, Im not HOMELESS, but it damn sure feels like I am.

I can't believe Im turning into every person I've met in the workforce. Ppl who just live paycheck to paycheck and just let the days past by; not doing anything but working. I use to make fun of those ppl at my last job as a cashier while in HS, but seriously, I got the realest reality check of my life. I really cannot live a life like that for 30+ years if I can't figure something out by graduation. Else I'm better off with maggots in my eyes and my skin wilting in the ground.

I'm done ranting, I need some sleep.... GN and happy Halloween ✌🏽

[ireceived-p8250000]

May 4-9, 2014

I practiced driving with my brother Marvin. He had another motive for helping me—he bargained not just for a little money but also for our dad's gun. He needed it for reasons he didn't share.

While driving, my boyfriend kept texting me. I opened one of his messages, but Marvin took the phone away, lecturing me about the dangers of using phones while driving. I had another exam at the end of the month for my non-pro license, so I needed to focus on learning every bump and curve.

We drove quite a distance, and I noticed how smooth the sedan was. It had a feature where it slowed down if you stopped. We eventually stopped to eat at a traveler's eatery, a turo-turo. Marvin knew some people there, and they were curious about me. He introduced me as his sister, though I was actually his sister-in-law. I didn't like how his friends looked at me, and I asked for my phone back. Marvin gave it to me, and after some brief, disinterested answers, his friends stopped trying to chat with me.

On the way back, I practiced successfully parking my new car. Marvin also put a bumper sticker on the back to signal other drivers not to hassle me.

Monday, I helped my friends with their experiments. Luckily, we found Dom's old seminary classmates, and they helped ensure the experiment's success. We ate out and then went home.

Tuesday, Mansoor and I woke up at 5 a.m. and took the bus at 7. We had a full ride to Quezon City, arriving at noon. Our first stop was Diliman, where we explored books at OBookau Ukay. We wandered around before checking into a hotel. It was cheap and had a pool. We shared a bed and explored Cubao X and the old cities, enjoying the nightlife.

We got a bit drunk and went swimming in the hotel pool. Back in our room, things got heated, but we didn't have protection, so we improvised. We tried watching some adult content, but it wasn't enjoyable for me. I told him, "We'll figure it out."

"It's fine. At least we're learning together," he replied.

Wednesday morning, we had another swim, had breakfast at a local place, and then checked out. We went to Makati, visiting Silverlens Gallery, The Met Manila, and Ayala. We explored BGC, which was tiring, and then headed to Pasay at night. We stayed in a motel for a few hours to shower and rest before going out for dinner.

Thursday, we returned to Baguio early in the morning. Over coffee, we discussed our intimacy and decided we weren't ready to go all the way yet. We were happy to take things slow.

When I got home, the fighting was still ongoing. Dad was forcefully telling Roxanne to leave. He was very stubborn, dealing with things his way. This led to a fight between Dad and me. I told him we didn't need him, which made him act childishly, complaining to my mother. I tried to protect Roxanne, who was crying and said she would go to a friend's place for a while. I told her we would find a dorm for her, and I’d pay for the first two months.

I tried to apologize to Dad, but he wouldn't be convinced about Roxanne. On Friday, we went apartment hunting. Most places were far from her school or just bed spacers. One of her friends referred us to a place near her university. It was good, not too crowded, though a bit pricey.

On Saturday, we saw the place. It was decent—2k a month, including utilities. It was a bedspace, shared by four girls: two in college and two working. Quietly, Roxanne and I went home to pack her things. She would be moving Sunday, and Mansoor and I volunteered to help.