#september has been the WORST month ever it's so funny

[hrts4lisa]

-

[splitster]

answering asks

you'll have to befriend her first sorry

chocolate was the first sweet that Pom had so it's her favorite!! she won't go nuts or anything but she is very easily manipulated if you promise her a bar of chocolate

↓ more asks under the cut!! ↓

wraithification ideally does preserve peoples memories! part of the process is forming the core that holds said memories, so as long as the process goes somewhat smoothly then the person should wake up very disorientated but with their memories and personality in tact.

naw she's thankfully immune to most elemental hazards. one of the perks of being a wraith!

YEAHH i've been trying to keep up with the comics! this comic is a bit old at this point but i'm so glad bald dingo is canon 💖

i think it'd be funny so yeah sure

there is always an inherent risk to the process. i'd say the absolute ideal circumstances you could have would be if a wraith like pom and a doctor like yonny were working together to increase the likelihood of survival. the process hasn't been studied at all, given the rarity of wraiths as an organism and the added rarity of a wraith becoming so attached to a creature that it wants to convert it.

there is a metaphysical aspect to wraiths as a species that defies understanding, so the person being wraithified or the wraith themselves having a strong will for survival would definitely contribute to the success of it. thankfully, unless there's a VERY specific set of circumstances (that are relevant only with someone like yonny wraith who has two cores), the subject would fall unconscious and not form memories of the wraithification itself (which is fortunate, because that would be kinda horrifying).

if she's saving dingo and this is a last ditch effort, pom absolutely puts her whole being into it. it's very, very hard on her and she has every last bit of energy sapped from her. depending on her reserves, she could end up hurting herself with the amount of energy it requires. but wounds are temporary and death is forever, so pom would persevere through and give it her all to save him

yeah! pom's skin might technically be fake because it's made from goo, but she still feels sensations through her goo. she probably doesn't get itchy that easily. she's probably a little ticklish? but i'm not sure if you want to try that on a wraith that could easily stab you in a heartbeat...

wow when i was looking back for this pic i realized i first posted about the pom wraith au on september 1st, so the au is like 4 months old... time flies

WAHHH THANK YOU....🥺💖 asks like this are never a bother!! my favorite part about posting my content online is the engagement like this, i'm very happy to make stuff that you and your bro can bond over

procreate on an ipad! i use an empty cheezits box and three splatoon manga books to prop up my ipad to draw on, and i've been told its one of the worst drawing arrangements ever documented, so no matter how you draw it's probably gonna be better than my set up

of course! i didn't like... invent wraiths or anything. i just expanded on the little tidbits of what we know about wraiths in the pikmin universe. anyone is free to make their own wraith ocs or their own headcanons on what wraiths are

whuh... have i? i post pretty frequently. i used to post a bunch for a week or two and then disappear for 6+ months repeatedly so this is very good compared to my historical track record lol

AHH thank you!! i'm glad that i can inspire!

thank yall for all the asks, i'll continue getting through them... slowly

[rootytootypie]

Iron Man

😳🤢🦸

😳: Tony’s definitely a 8 out of 10 when it comes to embarrassment. You have to be someone he’s known for ages before he’s comfortable with possibly passing gas around you, and even then he’ll definitely still say excuse me. And even if you have known him for ages, he’s still way more wary about that stuff around the Avengers.

It has less to do with his background and more to do with image; after all, you wouldn’t see any 80s hair metal rockers, 40s Rat Packers or super cool Hollywood stars doing that in public during their prime (especially Tom Cruise, who, Scientology or not, has an image Tony idolizes). Some of his few good memories of Howard Stark were actually, occasionally being able to make his dad laugh with a random fart growing up when he was very young.

You might expect his most embarrassing moment involved the Avengers or Pepper, but no. It was a tale as old as time, or at least Mexican food’s increased popularity in school cafeterias after Taco Bell hit big in the 1960s. It was October 12th, 1982. Taco Tuesday. A day that shall live in infamy at Andover, as far as Tony is concerned.

He was twelve, and hopelessly naïve. Even though he mostly took classes with older juniors, there were a few other genius kids who skipped junior high that shared a class or two with him. And one of those whiz kids was Millie Collins, a cute blonde preteen who would have been the most popular girl in school among her own peers. He’d been flirting with her since September (and considering a month would be unheard of in some of Tony’s adult relationships, we know this means he was head over heels).

He got to their shared class, British Literature, a few minutes early. “Tony,” Millie called out. “I saved you a seat!”

“Thanks, doll,” he said, sitting down next to her and feeling quite a bit like John Travolta. 

Then it all went to hell. The pencil tucked behind his ear slid and hit the floor. In what he can only recall as slow motion, he bent over to pick it up…and then BAM! The loudest fart EVER! His dreams of peak coolness went up in flames. He’d cut the cheese…and his butt was tilted towards his crush.

That would have been bad enough. But the sparsely populated rows of early arrivals in front of them all turned around and started laughing, and shouting things like “Phew!” and “Grody!”. Some kid came in as things were calming down and said, “What’s so funny?” and his friend replied, “Stark floated a giant air biscuit!” which got everyone laughing like chimps again.

That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was Millie Collins waiting for him after class and saying, “It’s okay. People will forget,” which to Tony, implied people definitely wouldn’t forget, and that his crush pitied him too much to tell him to bag his face.

Parts of it turned out happily ever after, in that he ended up being Millie’s boyfriend for real until the end of high school (which, again, was a relationship record of his well into adulthood). But the shame was still palpable in Tony’s mind to the point where it eventually came up in therapy thirty years later, bunched somewhere in the lowest rungs of childhood trauma with “the time Maria thought because he loved pummeling his Bozo punching bag, he might like a clown at his birthday” and “getting hazed his first semester at MIT.”

🤢: Tony very much wavers between finding farts funny or gross. It depends on how much, if any alcohol he’s consumed, or later, how much sleep he’s had, his proximity to the farter, how close his relationship to the farter is, and whether or not he’s in a position where he can react either way (after all, in business meetings, you can’t exactly burst out laughing OR call someone a nasty fucker OR do all of the above, as it looks unprofessional).

In the film timeline with Morgan, he definitely got used to Pepper farting because pregnancy does that, and any time any kid under 5 does it, he can’t help but be tickled, but a random guy or gal on a packed subway is definitely not going to amuse him. In fact, an encounter like that is the reason why, speed or not, he always uses a private driver in New York City. You thought it was regard for his own safety or disdain for the common man? Nope, it’s because in a car, he has the quick reflexes to roll up a window if Happy farts, but public transport has yet to advance to allowing private partitions for all riders. Stark R&D is definitely working on it.

🦸��♂️: There isn’t much here except a few amusing suit features, like a filtration device both for his own rear and the gasses of other, and soundproofing for, well, anything that doesn’t come from his vocal chords (his stomach rumbling, sneezing, belching, coughing, etc. definitely don’t fit the Iron Man aesthetic, and very much are not features on the Pinterest board).

😳 is less fetish oriented and more basic answer due to age (I felt like somebody definitely had an embarrassing moment as a child that can’t be topped, and something about how Tony constantly dwelled on the past in some ways really lent to that)

[lessyandmina]

Alright guys, the moment we all been waiting for (even though nobody asked). ANYWAY!! Bruce Wayne is finally gonna get his on my skit, but Selina would probably have to save his neck. You'll see. (It's been 4 months since I have this part begging to be let out. This is all your fault, Bruce!!!) Enjoy everyone. 😉

Me: *Side-eyed Bruce Wayne this time while Jerome is laughing his ass off at us in the background*

Jeremiah: *covering his mouth and trying his hardest not to laugh*

Bruce:

*trying his best not laugh as well, knowing damn well that he's about to get cussed out.* Okay, now hear me out -

Me: NO!!

Jerome:

Jeremiah: *Starts snorting and giggling, still covering his mouth.*

Bruce: Oh, come on!!! I thought you would like this one!!

Me: I get Jerome and Jeremiah because they love to torment me with Sonic 06 and Remorses(Aka Sonic forces). But YOU!!!! I EXPECT MORE FROM YOU, BRUCE!!! YOU'RE THE ABSOLUTE WORST!!! YOU FUCKING ASSHAT!!! WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT I LIKE THIS GARBAGE?!

Jerome: *Starts to recover from laughing* Brucie, come on, man. She likes a lot of sonic games. THIS AIN'T ONE OF THEM!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Selina: Bruce, I told you that she didn't like it, but no. You thought you were going to give it the benefit of the doubt. I can save you from her beating, but I can't save you from her roasting your ass.

Jeremiah: Oh, that reminds me. Bruce, darling, you owe me $50. 😏😉

Bruce: Damn it. I was hoping that you forgot about it. *Gave Jeremiah $50*

Jeremiah: Oh, dear heart. I never forget. *Takes it from Bruce*

Jerome: HA! BRUCIE LOST THE BET!!

Me: I'm sorry, what now? What bet?

Five: Bruce and Jeremiah made a bet not too long ago about the game. If your reaction was good, Jeremiah owed Bruce $50. But if your reaction was bad, like now, Bruce owed Jeremiah $50. So, of course, Bruce lost.

Me: 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️I can't believe you two!!!

Jerome: Come on, it's really funny how it turned out. 🤣🤣🤣

Selina: Good thing that I save you from Bruce's torture. So I got you this:

Me: Selina, did I ever tell you that I love you?

Selina:

A million more, bestie. A million more. 😉

Jerome: Now hold the fuck up!!! How the hell did give her the good game?! 😡

Selina: Cause unlike you three, I've known her great taste in games. *Looks at me* Remember when you and I played Mortal Kombat?!

Me: Oh shit. How can I forget? You killed it with Mileena, Selina. There's a new one coming out in September.

Selina: Well, consider this as your birthday present.

Bruce: Then I would have Alfred set up a mortal kombat party at Wayne Manor in September.

Me: That's very sweet of you, Bruce. Thank you.

Bruce: You're welcome. But now you gotta play Sonic Boom.

Jerome: *Starts laughing again*

Me: *Bombastic Side-eyed. Criminal offensive Side-eyed* You're still a asshat, Bruce.

Bruce: I'll bring you extra large coffee.

Me: Not gonna happen, Wayne.

Bruce: Extra large French vanilla coffee from Dunkin Donuts.

Me: *Side-eyed Selina once more, then looks back at Bruce* Two extra large.

Bruce: Okay, deal.

Selina: You've drove a hard bargain on that one, Bruce.

Jeremiah: That's one of the reasons why I love him.

Jerome: Sap.

Jeremiah: Amy Rose lover.

Jerome: You better take that back, Miah!! I'm Team Princess Sally all the way and you know it!!

Jeremiah: Now we both know that's not true.

Five: At least none of us are team Elise.

Selina: Thank goodness for that. I feel sorry for those who are.

Me: *Scoffs* I'm not. They're gonna get what they deserve.

Jerome: Yep, cause it's no use!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Jeremiah:

Jeremiah: I prefer Shadow over Silver anyway.

Me: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[practicalmagicintuitions]

Cruise ship singer is a bit harsh, lol.

I do feel though he hasn’t found his sound yet, if that makes sense? To me it was very clear some of his songs are about JH and his way of processing their “relationship”. I believe that once he’s gotten out all the JH crap out of his system, he can start writing something better. I feel he wasted a lot of time on her and writing songs for/about her, because he believes she’s his twin flame.

I have done readings on them and him personally and she is not his TF. His TF is out there, it is not any woman he has been in a relationship with in the past and it is not a current woman he is seeing. I did get the month september, so I am a bit curious whether or not he bumped into her during his tour. I should do another reading and find out, but tbh I don’t know if he would recognise his TF as such while still being so hung up on JH.

Okay, but it was funny 🙈 Jokes are sometimes harsh.

Agree, he absolutely doesn’t have a unique style. When I heard his forst song 1:11, I thought it’s like 5 different songs mashed up. It sounds catchy at first but it’s chaotic, Not the worst so g ever but nothing special. I hope he can purge JH out of himself of it not, they should just get back together.

I am planning to do a post on TF in general because there are so many misconceptions and false information out there.

[hey-its-isaac]

regarding september 22nd, being 21, and turning into a bad person

hey, it's isaac.

i suppose i could have made writing here a yearly thing if i had remembered to write here on the 3rd, but i did not. that's not a reason to not get introspective though, now is it? while i'm writing into the void, i suppose it's a possibility you revisit this tumblr sometime, that you read the things i'm writing. because i'm not really writing to myself, or to anybody else.

i suppose that i'm writing to you, for some unknown and foolish reason.

i turn 22 next week in the year 2024. i've gotten old, a lot older than i was when i first made this tumblr, which as i previously stated, was out of a desire to be a poet. it later became a thing i used to make you laugh. most of the things i've done in my life were to make you laugh, something i've known to be true for a long time, but i realized even more after our reconnection.

every conversation, every text, every word, i was trying to make you laugh. as was stated in the book no longer human, that i suggested to you, "i have frantically played the clown in order to disentangle myself from these painful relationships, only to wear myself out as a result."

it's a bad habit, and yet i've done it with everyone i have ever known. perhaps its a subconscious desire to be useful. if i can make you laugh, you spending time with me has been worthwhile. i have given a purpose to my existence, as i have made you laugh. i have made your week speaking to me worthwhile, because i gave you a laugh or two.

it's what i do, right?

i have gotten older, and i have gotten angrier. my worldview is worse, my politics aren't as generous, and i can't stand the majority of people. and this is why i can't solve the question of why i afforded you such a great kindness.

i can't solve why i reached out, and why i only showed you kindness. i can't shake how you told me something that hurt me, that you showed your new boyfriend "blonde boyz," and how i didn't retaliate with "i played card jitsu with another girl."

i can't shake how it bubbled up in me, and i swallowed it, and didn't say it. i can't imagine you would have minded, just as truly, i didn't mind you showed someone else blonde boyz, even though it made me sad, even if just for my past self. i just can't understand that kindness i offered. the years of hatred that built up inside of me, starting when we were together, starting maybe even in 2018, another fact i withheld out of kindness. that hatred inside of me, and i was kind. i didn't lash out. i didn't hurt you, like i'd fantasized of doing for many months. you couldn't every begin to understand the thoughts i had had that long year. i'm ashamed of the person that i was then.

and when i remembered too much bad about you, when you showed your personality too much and i was disgusted, i simply left. i didn't lash out. i wasn't cruel. i just left.

it was kind of me.

that interaction is the one proof i have that i'm still a good person deep down. that i won't always give in to the worst of myself. that deep down, i don't want to hurt others. i want to uplift others.

deep down,

i want to make people laugh.

i want to make people happy.

because if i'm not, i'm a waste of space. if i'm being cruel, i'm worse than a waste of space. i'm a detriment.

hell, i post shitty jokes on twitter 50 times a day. who fucking cares, but maybe someone will find it funny. people tell me i'm funny, and so i try to make people laugh. sometimes i feel like it's the only thing that i have ever been good for.

21 was a weird age, probably the worst of my life, but also the one with the most change. i rented my own house, i got into a big university, and i can drive now. i got laid, i kissed a girl, and i learned how to live alone. i drank a lot, but i haven't smoked yet. i've done okay for myself.

i don't remember much of my teenage years, do you? i forgot a lot of it. even when i think about disney world, i can't remember it. it's a faded memory. i remember a few things that happened, a snippet or two of a time we shared, but i can't remember it. when i think about it, i think there's a mental block. perhaps its not that i've forgotten it, but that my mind has learned to tune out memories of us as a defense mechanism, even still now, that it doesn't matter as much to me.

you would never understand what it was like to be me, how desperately i had to work to keep any mention of you out of my life, as i would spiral intensely every time. i attempted self harm, a few times. i was suicidal.

i know i've always been depressed and anxious, and ive made jokes about killing myself, but i was really suicidal back then. october of 2023 was a really bad time for me, i don't like to revisit my journal entries from that time. i wanted to hurt myself. it was a compulsion, a huge desire.

its a twist of fate that i didn't.

so i guess, at least i'm doing better than i was then.

well, that was me checking in for this year. a lot has changed since i last wrote here, i guess i treat these as confessionals. the things that i never told you, that i don't have the guts to say to your face. that i hated you, that i hated you early on. but i truly did love you.

i'll end with this, an explanation for my hate. two things that described how i felt about you the entirety of our relationship.

the first of these is from make happy. i related a lot to bo burnham, in his song can't handle this. he said, "a part of me loves you, a part me hates you, a part of me fears you, a part of me needs you." i listened to this a lot in fall of 2018, perhaps even before we were together. i loved you, but i hated you. i resented you. i feared you, what you meant for me, and i needed you. i needed you more than i wanted to or should ever need a person, and that led to the other 3 things.

i also related to a scene from bojack horseman. this was the scene of mr. peanutbutter, and hes talking to todd. he talks about diane, and her role in his life. he said he keeps having a dream where diane isn't there. he says that she isn't dead, and she hasn't left him, its as if she never existed. and he said that he feels relief.

i had similar feelings to that. i didn't want you to go, and i didn't want you to die.

but i would have been relieved if i woke up and you were all just a dream.

or, that was a thought i had. who knows how i truly would have felt, right?

okay

see you next year

-IJF

[kehideni]

For months now, the dominating emotion for me has been rage.

I made 2 text posts about it and i deleted both before posting, but this third one i'm keeping.

My sanity has been dependent on a fkin fictional monkey and while that may be funny to you, for me it is not yet that. Maybe one day i will look back and feel it's cringe but hey... hold onto whatever helps, right?

But since no one reads these text posts i think i can feel free to... spill the chamberpot, as we hungarians say.

So what has been going on in my life.

Well, i changed workplaces finally, (as in 2 months from now i will no longer work here in gynecology) but i never told anyone why. (At least not here)

Thing is, a lot of things are adding up but the deciding factor is a "new" doctor that's been working here for half a year now.

This Dr, we are going to refer to as Butcher.

Butcher anno started here in my home city, the then Prof. kicked him out because even back then he was a shitty Dr.

The Butcher left for Budapest and has been working there for pay-hospitals (clinics are the free hospitals you go into with free-healthcare, hospitals are the places where the patient pays for the healthcare) Bucher has been forbidden from operating in these hospitals, i can only guess why.

Come the end of 2023 and our clinic gets a new Prof. from Budapest, and this Prof is a fkin retard idiot, and is also a biiiig friend of Butcher, and brought him back with himself.

Since he's been working here, whatever operation he is in something happens. Infections, wound healing disorder, the operations take far longer than they should, he touches organs that have absolutely zero to do with the operation he agrees upon on paper... i could go on. Patients that so far at worst were here for 3 days are now here for months, literal months.

That is not fine at all but something we could handle, but now he took up another kind of operation.

This operation is big as it is, but of course he makes them longer and guess what, so far 3 out of 3 he bled the patients out to varying degree.

The first two got their vena iliaca cut! CLEAN cut, the second one clinically died for a few seconds even! This third he did today was almost bled out, even if he didn't cut the main vena. He already killed off one patient that died in my shift!! Ffs, the woman was HEAVILY contraindicated! She was old, overweight, had several heart problems, had diabetes, thyroid disease(i don't remember if it was hyper or hypothyreosis) and who knows what else, and everyone told him (yes, even us nurses) that she should not be operated on, and yet he did.

You might be naive and think "we're just human, we make mistakes". THIS MANY? ONE AFTER THE OTHER? THE SAME FKIN MISTAKES ONE AFTER THE OTHER? WITH SEVERAL OPERATION? HE IS FORBIDDEN FROM SEVERAL HOSPITALS ALREADY WTF?! WHAT the ACTUAL FUCK is he doing here?!

And i'm not the only one mad, the whole building is but guess what, he is protected by the Prof., and he is narcisstic. Like Dr. Death in the USA he surrounds himself with fans i don't even know how he got...

He also edits his surgical descriptions so he looks innocent on paper. I can't even report him to anyone because i don't have proof like this. He got friends on high places anyway.

Goddamn corrupt clinic.

And we got other clinics asking too btw... we had several places ask us wtf is going on here.

But no one is doing anything... i flat out told one of his patients that she should report him to the authorities but she just came back to Butcher to a second operation and guess what... she ended up in the ICU as well. Idiot.

I turned several of his patients back and told them to look for another doctor, with more success than not but... i'm tired...

I can't do anything about him, but i refuse to work with/for a FUCKING MURDERER.

I've been coming to work with untold rage ever since and i can't wait for September.

I'm this close to just flat out, out his name to the world but it'd just endanger me because i can be reached after, but he can't....

When i say i want to kill him i'm not kidding.

So yeah... i'm stressed, and angry, and impatient.

[luckypeacetale]

May 04: A Lovely Day to Be Remembered

A song to hear while reading.

I. Words from her.

183 days, 26 weeks, 6 months has been passed, and I am still truly glad and happy as the day 1, extremely blessed for having you, my wonderful boyfriend ever. Ever.

Pertama-tama aku mau ucapin selamat tanggal Empat, selamat merayakan hari jadi yang ke-enam, selamat atas setengah tahun yang kamu lalui sama aku, sayangku, bibubku, Hagianku, Christianku. Walau sebenarnya kalau mau hitung-hitungan, ini sudah bulan ke-32 sejak kali pertama kita kenal.

Ya know, I still remember the very first time we met in September 2021, and how I fell in love with you a months after. Also how everything happened unexpectedly, I really am being with you right now. A friends-to-lover trope happened to us, and I'm glad it's you.

Sayang, aku tau memang nggak gampang buat kita sampai di titik ini, nyatanya banyaaaak sekali yang harus dilalui, dan nggak jarang hal-hal tersebut juga ternyata fatal untuk kita. But, we've made it! And I'm proud of it, I'm proud of us. 6 bulan bukan waktu yang sebentar, dan nyatanya kita masih sama-sama. Aku mau sama kamu terus, aku cuma mau spend the rest of my days sama kamu.

Maafin aku ya, karena masih sering melakukan kesalahan dan juga sering mencari-cari masalah. Tapi terima kasih sudah selalu sabar menghadapi aku, yang untuk dihadapi pun masih sering bikin kamu sampai emosi dan sakit kepala. Seperti kata kamu, kita belajar buat jadi lebih baik sama-sama, karena lebih seru. Seperti katamu juga, kita coba perbaiki berdua setiap ada masalah yang datang ke kita, ya.

Terima kasih sekali lagi, Hagian, atas pilihannya menjadikan aku jadi perempuan yang kamu sayang. Selain bangga jadi perempuan, aku juga bangga sekali jadi pacar kamu. Jadi, karena aku bangga jadi perempuan, aku akan usaha juga buat jadi perempuan terbaikmu. Prosesnya nggak cepat, ada waktunya. Semoga kamu selalu sama aku di dalam proses itu. Tenang, aku pun selalu ada sama kamu saat kamu berproses, sekalipun itu harus gagal atau terjatuh. Aku, akan tetap sama kamu.

II. Question and Answer.

Q: "How was your first time meeting him?"

It's.... quite funny! Nggak pernah ada penyesalan sama sekali saat memutuskan untuk memilih Ian sebagai bagian dari gdm-roleplayer-dengan-nama-yang-cukup-konyol-itu, dia yang waktu itu adalah Hwang Hyunjin, yang mana sekarang telah menjadi Hyunjinku!

Aku ingat seberapa atraktifnya Hwang Hyunjin yang satu ini, seberapa antusiasnya dia untuk memiliki teman baru. Satu balasan darinya dalam usahaku yang saat itu juga hendak mencari kawan, berhasil! Berhasil membuat aku bahagia dengan hadirnya dia sebagai teman (awalnya).

Tapi ternyata Hwang Hyunjin satu ini lucu juga.

Lucu celetukannya, lucu orangnya, lucu semuanya. Aku sering dibuat senyum-senyum bahkan tertawa lepas karenanya. Orang-orang yang ada di grup juga sebetulnya sama, sih, aku yakin mereka juga nggak jarang tersenyum atau tertawa karena tingkah si Hwang Hyunjin ini. Ya.. walaupun kadang celetukannya bikin aku pengen jitak dia, sih.

Q: "When did the first time Hagian attracted your eyes?"

Umm.. It's when.. I realized that I feel so comfortable when around him. When I realized he always got my back even at my worst. When I realized he cares a lot about me. I know maybe he did it because we were a good friends, but unconsciously.. I'm in love.

Gestur-gestur kecil yang ia lakukan sebagai teman, nyatanya aku pahami dengan perasaan lebih dari teman. He oftenly talked about his exes that days, I absolutely don't mind with it. Instead of getting jealous, I feel so appreciated. He make me think that I am a trustworthy person. Aku senang kalau dia cerita tentang perasaannya, memintaku sebuah saran dan masukan (yang mungkin sebenarnya saranku nggak bagus-bagus amat), atau sekedar mengeluhkan hal kecil. Mencari aku ketika aku mendadak hilang dari keberadaan, selalu memastikan aku baik-baik saja... Duh, Hagian! Kamu tuh bikin jatuh cinta banget tau nggak? Syukur, deh, sekarang kamu punya aku.

Q: "If you can define him as a character, who would it be?"

I think it's obvious from the start? He's absolutely Flynn Rider for me. A Eugene to my Rapunzel.

Aku pernah jawab pertanyaan ini di private account Twitterku, kayak gini.

And yes, he is. He treat me like I'm his Rapunzel. I also believe that his appearance is most likely similar to Flynn Rider (based on his self-descriptions to me, HAHAHA)

Q: "Things you liked about Hagian?"

Oh, God. It's difficult to answer in short because I could write a whole book actually?? But here are some that I could tell here!

He's Hagian. Christian. Whoever you named him, I like him because he is him.

OKAY THAT'S ALL EVERYONE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING THIS QUESTION I CAN'T TELL ANY OTHER THINGS BECAUSE I LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING OF HIM PLEASE MY LOVE FOR HIM INCREASES EVERY SECONDS.

Aku naksir pacarku selalu. Semua tentangnya aku suka.

Q: "Songs you would like to give to Hagian?"

Oh well there are a lot of it, he knows that I made a playlist for him! But currently I love to listening to this song repeatedly while thinking about him and how relate the lyrics are with what I feel towards him!

Playlist updated. Click here to view.

Q: "Last but not least, how was your life after having Hagian by your side?"

It's... beautiful.

My life is more colorful. More lovely. More warm and joy.

He's such a life-changing. Never expect that my life will be this meaningful after having him as my significant other. Honestly I couldn't tell in words, 'cause I think you need to be me if you want to feel it.

His existence is priceless for this fragile girl. He make this childish woman stronger and turned her to be a better one. He helped her to find her trueself. He lead her to always believe in herself, to always put herself first over everything. She learned a lot of good things from him, she can love herself more, she can feel herself more.

And she always hoping that he could be the last for her.

Aku sayang kamu. And I treasure you, Hagian. I love you.

[blogblogbloggittyblog]

august 29- september 24, 2023

i don’t think i am a good person. noah essentially ended up thinking i was insane and dustin couldn’t deal w me and this guy absolutely cannot either. i’m giving it like one month. i don’t even know if i like him. i don’t think i ever actually liked anyone except dustin. like i actually cared abt whether he did well or if he was happy. i obviously care what all of them think of me but i truly don’t think idk. i think i ruin every good thing that happens to me and i only attract ruined things . there is no way that this man is ever gonna actually ask me to be his gf or tell me he loves me and honestly that’s probably better. the thing is if he said it idk what i’d do. i don’t think i’ve ever meant it except for dustin but we never even said it. i knew him for a year and he still was a good person. other than being a lying scumbag. maybe i just bring out the worst in ppl. i cant fathom making it past 20. i don’t think i have the energy for it. and christ im mentally ill. i’m writing all of this because he left me on read because i got mad because i lied. truly scum of the earth . i don’t understand why i can’t just be happy and stable and normal and successful and nice. like what the fuck is the point ok im becoming edgy nvm -----

i don’t think anyone is ever going to press lavendar for me again

-----

all i want is to be happy like why is it so hard -----

he has left me on read. it would be so silly if i got ghosted the day after he said we’d still be going out on halloween. very dustin of him

-----

saw them together holding hands and stuff and maybe it hurt less because i don’t know him at all anymore but it still hurt because i did and couldve

-----

i’ve been on the verge of a panic attack for the last like four hours and idk why. maybe it’s the espresso and i just have heart palpitations or smth but i’m unwell ! i am also violently upset and stressed but it’s fine who cares

-----

truly never been closer to ending my life

-----

it was noah’s bday and i didn’t even think abt it. go me. he got a david bowie tattoo. also i may be pregnant which would be fucking atrocious but we’ll see cam is such a red flag in like every possible way idk what there even is to like abt him other than him being attracted to me and funny and british and like kinda pretty. like personality wise or relationship wise idk if there’s anything positive there. maybe it’s a placeholder so i don’t feel alone. but that’s not supposed to come w the stress of being pregnant

-----

(i think) i got my period

[deadcityhq]

**CHARACTER NAME:** Dorothea "Thea" Kincaid

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** Mandip Gill

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if relevant/they’re not old af):** September 22, 1915; andy math help

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** she/her, cis female, Bi Bi Bi

**CHARACTER FANDOM:** N/A

**OC OR CANON:** OC

**CHARACTER TYPE:** seelie since andy is mean and won't let me do a selkie :/

**HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN NEW YORK/WHY ARE THEY THERE ETC:** Two months

**IMPORTANT CHARACTER INFORMATION TO NOTE AND SHARE:**

- Thea grew up in a noble. Her technical title was duchess within the seelie hierarchy

- Her mother was .... not exactly the worst, but also not the best. Thea grew up to be a wild child, with a love for beautiful things and love for the magic that ran thee her veins. This strained their relationship, and while Thea loved her dearly, nothing she did ever seemed to be enough or correct for her mother.

- Thea loves to make things with her hands. Between 1950 -1970, she apprenticed to under a Seelie named Lysander Pendragon. This was considered a "young rebellious move" that her mother excused as learning a craft and how to use her magic. She made jewelry.

- This ended when Lysander Pendragon mysteriously disappeared. One night, after a particularly long week of fog and mist, he was never heard from again. This upset Thea greatly, and she is still looking for him to this day.

- At some point, Thea engaged in a romantic relationship with Warlock Dorian Smith. They were in love, though neither of them would admit it - Thea's position and Dorian's lack-there-of was .... well, not ideal.

- A particularly vindictive cousin jealous of Thea told on her. and things blew up from there. It was a messy blow up, and it ended with Thea basically torching her relationship with Dorian (which she hoped was for the greater good) and turned her relationship with her mother sour.

- Despite Thea's wishes, she continued to see Dorian, and unfortunately their relationship was volatile. (But, fortunately, the hate sex was killer).

- Things came to a head when her mother arranged a marriage for her, despite Thea's wishes. The arrangement was to another high status family, and Thea only ended up agreeing to just... make everything _stop_. She was tired of fighting, tired of arguing, and felt utterly unhappy and defeated.

- Dorian crashed her wedding as she was getting ready and the two uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh engaged doing the deed. Thea went on to her wedding afterwards like nothing happened (and walking a little funny).

- The guy she was marrying actually wasn't too bad. His biggest crime was that he was a little dull for Thea's tastes, but didn't want to do it either, so she gave him a pass for that. His family, however, wanted to seal the marriage and then kill her!

- Thea knew something was off for weeks before the wedding, but was too depressed and sad to really do anything. While walking down the aisle, however, things began to click together....

- and eventually, during the ceremony, Thea concluded there was poison in the wine goblet.

- She stopped the wedding, declaring as such. Things descended into chaos, both sides of the family chiding her, calling her dramatic, but never actually /denying/ it, since Seelies couldn't lie. it was then that Thea realized her mother was in on the whole thing. They just had to bind their families together.

- So she went nuclear. It wasn't pretty, with her tearing into every member of the family and even more royalty while she was at it... It got so bad, her husband to be got so overwhelmedC he grabbed a mug of wine to drink.... and immediately died via poisoning. Cue mayhem.

- Thea was jailed, but ultimately released having found no wrong doing. She was stripped of her title and ultimately disgraced. Her mother has made multiple attempts on her life since

- She traveled afterwards, spurned and angry. She entered the human realm and traveled for years, never staying in the same place for long, and searching for any trace of Lysander.

- She came to NYC 2 months ago, and has started her own jewelry business.

- Like most seelie, she can't lie, so she is rather creative at words.

- Can turn into two forms: a crow and a seal

**THREE AESTHETICS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR CHARACTER:**wax dripping down calloused fingers, emeralds sinking to the bottom of the ocean, betrayal following your footsteps like a shadow.

OOC INFORMATION: 

**MUN NAME/ALIAS:** love

**MUN AGE:** 26

**MUN TRIGGERS:** cancer

[motownfiction]

so, 2023 ...

2023. the first full year i operated this blog. the year it turned one. the year i began my dissertation work. the year i cannot wait to see fade into the distance.

this has been the worst year of my life.

i'm a bit hesitant to say that because i know myself. something ridiculous will happen in the future, and i'll go, "man, remember how much better it was in 2023, when i taught intro to entertainment, and i had that cute apartment in midwestern city? those were the days."

but at the same time, i don't think i'll ever quite forget how awful this year was.

sure, there were some good things. @pelopides and i started weekly movie nights, which we have to get back to once the holidays are over. i finally met one of my longest-running mutuals for the world's best brunch. i taught some cool classes and met some cool students. i was fortunate enough to visit home a lot. but for as many good things that happened, the bad ones really outweighed them. i don't want to go into too much detail, but the main thing is that i had a noncancerous hormonal brain tumor that went undiagnosed until september. also, my best friend of seven years ghosted me with no signs of resurface. i spent a lot of 2023 staring at my laptop screen, mindlessly watching television, waiting for the next day.

i don't remember a lot of it.

seriously. it's hard for me to admit that, as someone whose memory is very sharp. but i was in such a state of constant stress and worry that i don't remember the things i said i loved. ask anyone -- this spring and summer, i loved watching dynasty (the cw version). i talked about how funny it was all the time. but i remember almost nothing that happened in it. every second was padded with fear as i waited for one shoe to drop ... then the other.

i also don't remember a lot of what i wrote on this blog. i know i wrote a lot in the winter (and way, way less in the summer and fall than i ever would have hoped), but i don't remember a lot of it. i have a retrospective coming at you soon. it was hard to create because of how little i remembered and because i hated revisiting some months and days in the archive. but i found some good ones!

this post -- this year, really -- indeed has a pleasant ending. my physical health has improved, which means my mental health has improved. i can focus more on what matters because my hormone imbalance is corrected. i don't feel as weird about being happy, and i can stay happy for a lot longer than i could for most of 2023.

and it is on that note -- happy -- that i truly do wish this blog a happy new year. and happy new year to you, too! thanks for sticking around what was evidently a strange year for me. your asks, likes, and reblogs mean a lot, and they will mean a lot more now that i am feeling more like the "me" i have always been.

forward.

[siivn]

as a silly habit, a little more than a year ago, I decided to start writing a dream log. you know, as one does.

mind, i only wrote down the dreams that my sleep-clouded memory could pierce together in a semblance of coherence, so I expected that i wouldn't be regularly updating this silly record. (keep also in mind that i don't usually have time to write on my phone, or anywhere really, as soon as I wake up, and by the time I can make some time during the day, I have long forgotten what my dream of the day was about)

at first, it went well.

I was excited to start recording my dreams. It was a way to familiarise myself with writing again, since I had hit a writer's block and picking up a pen or typing on my laptop only ever filled me with dread at the time. I figured jotting down a few sentences in the morning, without thinking about the grammar or the right words to use and without a pretence of making sense because dreams most of the time don't make sense, would have made the act of writing less daunting to me.

And so I started this little (foreshadowing) record of my dreams.

the first month was okay i guess. It's not like i dream every night, you know. and I don't remember all my dreams. So by the end of the first month I had written four entries. which was more than I expected, honestly.

then from september to the end of january, I wrote a whopping 1 entry. LOL

and it's not like I forgot about writing down my dreams. No. somehow, i didn't dream anything. (and even if I did, i wouldn't really know) it was like I had a blackout of dreams during those months idk

the last entry is from yesterday. which brings us to 6 dreams that I wrote down in the span of one year. not really an impressive number, but you know... It's something at least.

and since it has been a year, i figured that I would examine the little data that I collected, as I would always put a few tags for every entry, just for funzies of course, and here are the results.

i dreamt about:

getting chased by something/someone 4 times out of 6 (which is a lot)

someone trying to murder me 3 times out of 6 (fun ahah, and only once, someone's was chasing me,, which means,,)

6 out of 6, i was in some sort of danger, and that should tell you a lot about the moods of my dreams

but it really doesn't, since i tagged 2 dreams wholesome, 3 funny and only 1 bittersweet (my favorite one, btw)

4 times out of 6, my brain dreamt about someone who didn’t exist and it always was the same person (though, once he was my saviour, another he was my killer and two, he was just a random dude)

And once, I have been abducted by a fae, or something, creature with another dude (not the guy above tho) and they told us to decide who would be allowed to escape and i got yelled by dude's bigger brother (rude) bcs dude told me to escape first since he has some secret powers and would have been able to escape on his own but big bro didn't know that and thought that I selfishly abandoned his lil bro to his fate and that I was the worst person ever (I am very bitter about this dream, even after months, i hope it's not too obvious... 👉🏻👈🏻)

other tags that I used are, as follow, 1. survinging (written like this, bcs you know, I was half asleep - and that is roughly how are written all the dreams lol), 2. fighting and 3. falling

did it help with my writer's block? I don't think it did, but it's true that I am more excited about writing than I was last year, though maybe not because of this little project I started and kept up sporadically

am I going to continue writing my dreams? I mean, I really would like to... but you know how this year went, and it's possible that this trend of mine will continue, so who knows?

all in all, I would recommend everyone to try keeping a dream log, if only to read again in moments of boredom and wonder, what's wrong with my brain??

[transmascbutcher]

I’m gonna get into this now.

take this with a grain of salt I’m USAmerican so I don’t have prior knowledge of the British military much less the way mine works.

Butcher would have been 16-18 when he joined the royal marines. his birth year is 1976 so that would be between ‘92-‘94. let’s assume the application and training process takes 1 year (‘93-‘95). once that’s over there’s an estimated 2 years before you can receive specialist training (‘95-‘97). so let’s say somewhere between ‘94-‘97 he’s a candidate for special air service selection which would add another year or so probably considering the briefing course is done twice a year in the summer and winter. if he joined the rm when he was 18, he’d be done somewhere in ‘98. I don’t know how fucking long you’re required to serve and I do not care by now. I’m just gonna say by 2000 he can transfer elsewhere.

but then. to be CIA. he would need to have US citizenship which is an entire process on its own. then he’d have to register for selective service as a requirement. there’s also CIA training/clandestine service training. I’m still going through the entire CIA process which I’m sure will be difficult to get much information on. just assume this also takes a while.

there is no way he was CIA doing EIT work at black sites by March 2003. the only real information on KSM’s time held by the CIA that’s easy to find is the month of March at a black site in Poland where he was waterboarded a recorded 183 times. he was confirmed by Bush to have been moved to Guantanamo in September 2006. so let’s assume he was moved there that year. there is/was a black site within the prison so it’s a good possibility this could have been going on there if he had been there for at least 6 months prior to September 2006. that might give Butcher enough time to have any involvement whatsoever in EIT against KSM. I don’t know what requirements there are to be a candidate to be an agent who does EIT and I highly doubt that information is anywhere easily accessible online.

so. working with the span of a decade and the KSM line probably being in reference to the ridiculous amount of times he was waterboarded in the ENTIRE MONTH OF MARCH 2003 in which he was mentally broken down and giving completely false information in order to just make everything stop. what the fuck was Butcher talking about 6 months in Gitmo. man is making that shit up. I know television is bad at coherent timelines but I think the idea of him completely lying about this is funny. like he’s just insane and saying words.

disclaimer: I don’t think anything done by agents practicing EIT was funny at all and I think they deserve the same treatment they were giving to the degree that detainees have been described as reaching “near death” and sometimes even just dying due to the extreme nature of something/multiple things done to them. if you have ever paid attention to this to the degree I have for academic purposes it’s quite sickening and makes you question the morals possessed by those who work intelligence for the federal government. a well-adjusted person would never do these things nor speak of them as casually as CIA agents and medical officers present for these sessions would. power corrupts and this one example of that is absolutely one of the worst things to be knowledgeable in not just because of what was and has been done but because of how casually the government response was to allow it to keep happening and calling it necessary.

also I won’t lie I hate television because the information they’ve given up isn’t really adding up so far. I haven’t even gotten to citizenship.

[delphoxqueen]

Clawd Wolf’s Journal- Wave 2 (2010)

{Go to the bottom of the post to read the actual diary pages!}

This Journal Belongs to:

Clawd Wolf

If you can’t be honorable then be smart and keep your snout out of my journal.

Name: Clawd Wolf

School: Monster High

September the 18th

I don’t think I’ve ever been hit in a game as hard as I got hit last night and oh monster was I sore this morning. We won the game which makes the pain a little more bearable. The worst part was I saw the hit coming and had to stand there and take it. The play was 13 Weak Bootleg Goblin- I made a perfect fake and rolled right which fooled everybody on the defense except the ogre playing outside linebacker who hit me as soon as the pass left my hand. Not only did he hit me, he drove me into the turf and landed on top of me. The only thing worse than the hit was the ogre stink that came with it. When I say stink I mean he smelled like the inside of a rubber boot filled with stinky cheese and raw fish that had been left in the trunk of a black car during the hottest week of summer. I’m I probably notice it more being a werewolf because of my enhanced sense of smell but I honestly think ogres must turn up their scent glands for games. I couldn’t even see how the play turned out because he’s laying on top of me yelling “How’d you like that Wolf boy?” Then I hear the crowd going crazy and I just said, “Scoreboard.” Funny how the pain goes away, at least momentarily, when you complete a big play. Of course on the field you never want to let another monster know they hurt you… just like real life.

September the 21st

Rockseena chewed up a pair of Clawdeen’s shoes. Clawdeen accused Howleen, in Clawdeen’s defense it did kind of look like Howleen’s work, and I had to break up the fight and fork over some cash so Clawdeen could replace them. There goes my money for the month. Why are girl’s shoes so howling expensive?

October the 1st

I went to the furmatologist to see if he could do something about my shedding problem, which seems to be getting worse lately. It’s so screeching embarrassing I don’t even want to wear short sleeve shirts any more. Of course being a werewolf means it grows back as fast as it falls out so I’ve got an endless supply. I’m like a hairy snow globe. Anyway, I wish I could say that I walked away with a solution, cream, pull or heroic guest that would allow me to finally leave the house without a lint brush but that didn’t happen. The doctor said that some werewolves are genetically afflicted with this and that there is no cure. He gave me some ideas on how to manage the condition and a pamphlet about a support group. I was like, “A support group?” Come on monster, give me a break. The last thing I want to do is spend an evening hanging out in some back room at a community center listening to other werewolves howl about fur loss. I’ve just got to monster up and deal with it. What I wouldn’t give to switch problems with Clawdeen.

October the 7th

Somebody at Monster High is trying to reopen old tombs regarding Cleo’s past relationship with me and by “somebody” I mean Spectra Vondergeist. I probably should have ignored it but I didn’t. I found her and told her to knock it off since she didn’t know she was talking about, she called me a dumb jock, I called her a lying phantom and she wailed a path across the school protesting her innocence and demanding an apology. We both ended up in the Headmistress’s office where I was lectured about the “responsibility of being an example to younger monsters who look up to me.” She told Spectra to stop involving the whole school whenever she has a problem and that almost caused her to go off again but she managed to keep it together. I know every monster wants to know what happened but it’s really none of their business.

October the 12th

HH Bloodgood has decided that every monster in school has to write an essay on our haunted heritage. She wants to put them all in a big book and pass it out to the students at the end of the year. In her words this will “better help you to understand yourselves and your fellow monsters”. I need to ask dad and mom how much information I’m allowed to give since there are some things we don’t talk about outside the pack. Our history is written in the Valde Lupus Libri and even within the book there are sections I’m not allowed to read until I have a pack of my own. One of those sections tells what happened to cause the bad blood between werewolves and vampires. I asked dad about it one time and he just gave me “the look” so I let it go. I can probably write about the things every monster already knows; like how during the full moon our senses get sharper while our strength and speed doubles or how we’re allergic to silver and wolf’s bane. We’re not undead so we don’t live forever, but 400+ years isn’t just a drop in the coffin either. I guess I could also put down where we’re from and how our original alpha became a werewolf but I definitely need to get permission before giving out that kind of info.

October the 18th

The stink from my confrontation with Spectra continues to linger and today I had to stop Clawdeen from going after Cleo because Clawdeen still thinks Cleo dumped me for Deuce and broke my heart. That’s not how it happened so I told Clawdeen the real story. When Cleo and I first started going out I had just been voted captain of the football team and Cleo had taken over her sister Nefera’s spit as captain of the fear squad. I was the BMOC -Big Monster on Campus and she was Her Royal Hawtness. It was like living in the perfect nightmare. Even then I think we were enjoying the attention more than the relationship. We were friends, still are in fact, but the spark just wasn’t there. There was a spark between her and Deuce though. You couldn’t help but see it when they were around each other. I confess I was a little jealous but soon I got over that as our perfect nightmare suddenly came to an end. My wake up call came in the form of a season where we lost every game but one and I completed more passes to the other team than I did to my own. For Cleo, it was thinking she could just pick up her sister’s pom poms and not miss a fear except she was so bossy half the team quit and the half that stayed just did their own thing. We probably would have broken up then but the thought of adding any more drama to what was already going on was too much to think about. So we stayed together and kind of leaned on each other through it all. Eventually I started to make better decisions on the field and Cleo learned that leadership involved more than barking orders. So on the night before the last game of the year we decided to break up. Cleo told me that she knew Deuce wanted to ask her out but didn’t dare because she was still dating me and that she wouldn’t say yes for the same reason. That was that, except Cleo wanted to be able to tell everyone that she broke it off because she didn’t want anyone thinking that the captain of the fear squad got dumped. I told her I would my lie about what happened but I wouldn’t say anything to contradict it either. Looking back I think it was dumb on her part to care so much about social status and it was especially dumb on my part to be “heroic” about it. When I finished, Clawdeen called me a monster jerk, punched me in the arm and then gave me a hug. Girls are so weird.

October the 25th

I’ve got a pretty big test in Biteology coming soon and since it’s impossible to find a quiet spot in our house I went to the library to study. I finished up there and just as I was leaving a storm blew in and it started raining. The temperature came down with the rain and by the time I got to my car I could already see my breath. On the way home my sweet fang started to howl so I stopped at this coffee place and grabbed a large coffinccino with whip cream cause, you know, that’s what I like. I got about a half mile down the road when I couldn’t find my iCoffin so I pulled over to see if it had fallen in between the seats. As I was looking for it I happened to glance across the street and saw this freaky cute monster standing on the sidewalk. It was raining pretty hard by then and I couldn’t quite make out her face. I rolled down the window just as the wind changed direction and for a brief moment and I caught the scent of nightshade and lilac shampoo.

Draculaura? I got out and yelled her name. She looked up and I said to myself, ���Oh monster, what’s she doing out in this weather without a coat or umbrella?” Good thing dad always keeps one of his “eventuality” kits in his car with everything a monster might need in an emergency, including one of those compact umbrellas. I grabbed it and ran across the street to where Draculaura was standing by. Ordinarily I would have cracked some kind of joke but she looked so miserable I just opened the umbrella and helped her back to the car. Once we got in I handed her the coffinccino and turned up the heater. We sat there for a moment with the car running and I asked her if she wanted me to take her home. She nodded and I drove her back to her house. They don’t have a covered drive so I walked her up to the door and made sure she got in. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and darted inside before I could say anything which is a good thing because I felt like I’d been hit by that ogre again only all I could smell this time was nightshade and lilacs. After I got home mom asked me where I’d been. When I told her the library she just looked at me and said, “If you say so.” I thought that was weird until I was caught my reflection in the hall mirror and saw a perfect imprint of lips in Draculaura red.

About Me

Name: Clawd Wolf

Age: 17

Monster Parent: The Werewolf

Killer Style: Casual ala Clawdeen… it would be dumb for me not to listen to fashion advice from her.

Freaky Flaw: I shed… a lot. When I get out of the shower my family becomes the proud owners of a fur-lined tub. I might as well comb my hair with a lint brush to save the extra step.

Pet: A gargoyle bulldog named Rockseena. She’s my number one rock solid fan.

Favorite Activity: I love football. I love training, the strategy, the competition, and the atmosphere on game day. It’s the perfect sport.

Biggest Pet Peeve: Monsters who think that football players are all dumb jocks. I’ll compare GPAs with anybody… okay maybe not Ghoulia Yelps :)

Favorite School Subject: Biteology. I want to go into sports medicine when my playing days are over.

Least Favorite School Subject: Home Ick. Seriously, I can burn water.

Favorite Color: Teal

Favorite Food: Steaks and lots of it.

BFF’s: A pack leader can’t play favorites.

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[jehovahhthickness]

Hova, I am freaking out. I am an emotional wreck. I hope that you & your followers don’t judge me for what I’m about to share.. I just really need someone to listen & somewhere safe to express my feelings/concerns. I’m having a very difficult time processing all of this alone.

I found out Wednesday that I have HSV 1 & 2. I’m positive I know exactly who gave it to me..

A few months ago, I traveled to my home state to visit friends & family over the summer.. Well, I ended up meeting someone through a good friend of mine. He was very kind, funny & handsome so I started really liking him. We talked a lot, went on dates & had a lot of fun out & about. It felt like such a solid & magnetic connection.. We started to spend a lot of time together. It had been almost 2 years of no sex, so I figured I would have some fun.. Which now has turned into a nightmare for me.. I wish I had never gotten involved with this man.. Had I known this outcome would bring me sexual trauma for the rest of my life… Mentally & physically.

I never experienced any cold sores, genital sores, tingling, burning or any symptoms of HSV.. So I never would have thought I had it if I hadn’t gone to my routine woman’s well check earlier this week, got tested & found out. The only thing I noticed recently that makes me suspect it was him was a cluster of small fluid filled bumps on the side of my left middle finger not long after we were intimate. I’ve been on google reading about HSV & I read something called “herpetic whitlow.” It says it’s usually by the nail bed, but I saw some pics towards the middle of the finger that looked similar to what I had going on. I brushed it off thinking maybe it was a burn or something else. I had no clue it could be HSV so I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Now I am very worried because my toddler developed a rash shortly after. He had a few bumps similar to mine on his arm like 3 fluid filled bumps. Then another rash on his groin. (Not his genitals, but on one side of his inner thigh/groin area.) It says whitlow is very contagious & now I’m very very afraid that I could have passed this onto him. Especially changing diapers since it was on my finger & I did not have a band aid on.. Even holding him, a kiss or sharing a cup? It did clear up fairly quickly. He didn’t seem to experience any sort of discomfort. No fever, irritability, crying. It went away on its own & hasn’t returned since I noticed it around September. Although, I’m thinking the worst & also worried it may come back. I am so scared & upset. I just want to make sure that he is okay, but I’m nervous about taking him into the doctor because what if they accuse me of sexual abuse? Then I risk legal problems because of a possible virus on my finger. Maybe I’m just paranoid & overthinking & he’s fine? Google feels more unreliable than ever. Each website has different information & I don’t know what’s true & what’s not.

I wish this never happened. I’m so stressed, depressed, embarrassed, ashamed & angry. My anxiety won’t let me relax thinking I’ve passed this on without meaning to. I feel fucking awful.

Thank you for listening.

Please, please, please use protection guys :(

- Sincerely, one devastated mama..

I want to reassure you that herpes is so fricking common and not lethal to the point that the stigma that’s attached to it is worse than the actual condition itself.

Literally most folks have either both herpes 1 & 2 and have NO idea that they do.

Just me kissing a dude on the mouth and letting him giving me head will give me genital herpes. It is what it is tbh.

Or you could suck on your own finger and masturbate right afterwards can lead to you getting it as well.

You didn’t do anything wrong. This could’ve happened to anyone.

Also, just go to the doctor and explain exactly what you just said to me, CALMLY and it will be fine.

I know you’re pissed, upset and very disappointed in yourself. But you are doing okay, babe.

I can reassure you that you have nothing to panic about. If it was something else, I would be more concern. But it’s just herpes.

As far as your future sexual partners … anyone that’s educated with functioning brain cells won’t trip over it.