#update: listened to their new ep

[crmsndragonwngss]

Pretend we never stopped pretending

I'll hold you while the world is ending

It's killing me and I don't have a fighting chance

[art-crosternum]

some sylvint 🧀 for the soul

[7knives]

CELIA WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOURE LOOKING FOR CASES REGARDING 'being buried alive' or 'meat'??????

CELIA WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RECOGNIZED CHESTER'S VOICE???????

SAM WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RECEIVED AN EMAIL FROM A JON??????

[maragarita]

My collection of the wacked-out dates and times on the phones in maws so far, in case any one is as deranged about this show as I am

In ep 1, the only hint of a date we get is that their first day of work is on Tuesday which like ok great (side note: Lois, why did you write your boss's contact name as Lois in your phone??)

But then in ep 2 we start to see what will soon be a repeating trend of Monday May 9th, meaning that it's been a full week since they started at the office I guess??

We also see that it's 5am when Clark is at his parents house after getting the suit in which I'm going to assume they actually meant 5pm bc it is most definitely the end of the day and not the start of one

Also, at the beginning of the ep Clark mentions that they're "here before work", but then 5 minutes later Jimmy's phone shows that it's 10am, suggesting that the gang doesn't even get to their internship until after 10am every day??

(also, the view-to-like ratio on the flamebird vid is wack, my head cannon is that Jimmy hacked it)

After ep 2, we don't get any more info on dates until ep 5 (unless I missed one) but we immediately start out with a shot of Jimmy's calendar showing that squatchin' time is on the 17th and 18th*

but in the same scene we get a shot of Jimmy's phone showing that it is most definitely Monday May 9th (again)

(also, Clark's alarm goes off at 6am in both ep 1 and ep 5, it's nice to see some continuity for once) (even if it's been established that the gang doesn't get to work until after 10am rightttt)

Then Lois mentions Clark was at the Daily Planet on August 3rd, which I guess suggests it's been a full year since episode 2, and it's now May 9th of the next year??

Overall the continuity is completely off the rails and I love them for it. Keep me on my toes maws, make me question everything!! I always get a lil chuckle looking at the phones, it's one of my fav things to look out for on rewatches.

And on one final note, the time that Jimmy got on the bus was 9pm, and then when he drops his phone getting "kidnapped by bigfoot", the phone also reads 9pm Monday, May 9th. Jimmy stops time confirmed?!??

*edit: ty to @seafoamstatice for pointing out Jimmy's calendar!! Yet another interesting wrench in the continuity plotline hmmmmm

[teaweltzer]

Sending Stone Messages

A list for me that I want to update as new ones come in! Which w/ Dorian back, hopefully not so much (But i think I found all of them so far)

Bonus Ep 6 - Orym gripping the sending stone while Dorian was away

Ep 16 Fearne - right after Dorian leaves 

Ep 22 Orym — “We’re leaving Jrusar, heading southeast. Following the Treshi thread further. You’ve been missed. Hope you’re well.

Dorian — “Hey, sorry. Was sleeping. Thanks. Miss you guys too. Shit got crazy here too. Floating bar, I’ll tell you later. 

Ep 31  Orym — “Hey friend. Missing you here. Could really use your special brand of optimism right now. Don’t know where you are. Hope you’re happy. Bye now.”

Dorian — “Hey! Floating bar got a little weird. Took awhile to land it. This side of the fam is keeping me busy. Miss you all too- Don’t die!”

Bonus Ep 33 - Sending stone falling from Orym's hand as he dies from Otohan

Ep 40  Orym — “Hey. Yios bound. Found them- their killers. Bigger than we thought. Read rough, Dorian. Eshteross is dead. Glad you’re not here, wish you were anyway.”

Ep 41  Dorian (via Robbie)— “Oh Orym~ My heart aches I cannot be there to help you. Find strength, stay steadfast. Sending you fairer winds. …. Is this thing on or-“

Ep 49 Orym — “Dorian. Update. People we’re chasing unleashing hell in a week. We’re headed there now. Odds not good. More tomorrow. Where are you?

Dorian — “Orym! With the rest of the Crown Keepers in Tal’Dorei. Opal’s getting a little dark. Little busy at the moment.. I don’t even know how to get to you.”

Ep 49 Orym -- "Hey buddy. I have a weird request from the other side of the ocean. Can you see the leylines? Is your night sky lit up? Ash says, "Hi." You'll know if you see it. Dorian -- "Yeah, it's, It's real colorful up here, too. I'd take it in and enjoy the display if things weren't so tense at the moment.. Tell Ashton I say hi."

Ep 49 Orym — “Listen, what’s going on over here is really bad. Get the group, get underground. Stay there until you hear from me again… Miss you”

Dorian — “I'll see what I can do. There’s plenty of places underground, I’m sure. It's a little hairy on this end too. You take care of yourself. Be careful”

Ep 59  Orym — “Dorian?? Can you hear me? what’s the sky look like where you are? Tell me you’re okay-“

Ep. 63 Orym — “Dorian. still alive, by the skin of our teeth. want to talk more. you know where Dariax is?’

Bonus I miss you - Ep. 79  "I really miss Dorian and sometimes I think that's okay and sometimes it isn't."

Ep 86 Orym — “Dorian, we’re alive. Been to the moon, going back. Find the tempest. If I don’t get the chance again, I’ve really missed you.”

Ep 92 Orym — "We're home. Can you hear me? I'm northeast of Bassuras. Can you get there? I'm... struggling. Sorry. Can you get here? Fuck, I miss you."

Ep 93 Dorian (Robbie back) - "I'll be there" Bonus 93 Fearne - "Wait, what are you doing here? How did you get here?" Dorian - "Well, I got your message." Ep 94 Orym — "Dorian. Dorian. Dorian, wake up. Dorian. Fearne and I outside the city, about 10 minutes. Need you all."

[confused-pyramid]

You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down | s5

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

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

word count: 16.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, major character death, gun violence, drinking, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 5x01, 5x02, 5x06, 5x09, 5x10, and 5x21

a/n: This season was really hard to write at points (I think we all know which eps I'm talking about lol) but I'm looking forward to brighter days ahead:') Also we get some more tangible tension so yay! Title is from Look After You by The Fray

series masterlist

"We're not working a case," Derek states matter-of-factly when you arrive at the crime scene. You were woken up early the next morning after getting back from Canada, and on less than four hours of sleep, your brain is struggling to function.

"Why call us to a crime scene?" you ask, walking up to the front door of the house with the rest of the team.

He shrugs. "I was hoping you knew."

You look around, trying to find Aaron, but he's nowhere in sight. He had promised to put in the team request for a few days of leave, but you presume the call came in before he got a chance to do so.

The local police let you survey the scene, explaining that a Dr. Barton got a threatening letter that someone would be murdered everyday that he didn't give up his own son. Once you're done inspecting the body, you turn to JJ, lowering your voice. "Where's Hotch?"

"He's not answering his cell," she says, her lips thinning. "I assume it's on vibrate."

You nod. "I'll try him again."

You step away from the group and click his number in your speed dial, listening to the rings until it reaches his voicemail. It's unlike him to keep his phone on silent, but you know the previous night was tough on everyone. "Hey, it's me." You tell him the address you're heading to for the case, before turning towards the car and lowering your voice. "I know you're probably just asleep, but I don't know...I have that weird feeling again that you know I get...so please just call me back." You take a deep breath, hoping you're being overdramatic, and that you'll see him pull up in a few minutes. "See you soon."

When you get to Dr. Barton's house, he still hasn't called you back. You sit with the doctor, Prentiss, and Reid in his living room, going through his recent patient files, while Morgan, JJ, and Rossi head to the school to find his son.

"Something set this guy off," Emily explains as you start poring over the records. "Odds are it's in your files."

You manage to get through about a dozen before Dr. Barton stands up with a sigh. "My son is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all of these patients in time."

You check your phone again, mostly to see the time, but you also note that there aren't any new calls or messages. "He's right. We need more eyes on this. I can get Hotch and be back in a half hour."

"Keep us updated," Emily says, nodding at you. Concern flashes across her eyes for a millisecond, and you're sure it reflects the look in yours.

The drive to his apartment doesn't take long, and you stalk down the hall, all the way to the end, until you find his door. There's no answer the first time you knock, so you reach for the spare key he gave you, but before you can use it, you realize the door is already unlocked.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you pull your gun out, using it to push open the door carefully. "Aaron? Aaron, it's me."

When the door is ajar, the sight before you almost makes you drop your gun. There's a large bullet hole in the far wall, along with a patch of drying blood and bits of broken glass on the floor. His phone is on the ground as well, and his gun and holster are lying on his dining table.

You crouch down on your heels, trying to calm your breathing, as you take in your surroundings. You need to think logically about this, or you'll be no help at all.

A few things come to you as your mind clears.

His car is still outside.

No blood splatter around the bullet hole.

No drag marks.

You dig your hand around your back pocket and pull out your phone, dialing Garcia as fast as you can. "Overtime shift, Penelope speaking."

Her chipper voice usually calms you down, but right now you need to cut to the chase. "Garcia, it's me. Something's happened to Hotch. You need to get an APB out on him."

Her breath stutters. "What do you mean, something?"

"There's blood on the floor," you whisper, willing your voice not to crack as your throat thickens with tears. "There's also a bullet hole in the wall, probably a .44."

"I'll send the whole team," she says before you cut her off.

"No, don't call the team. They need to finish the case we were assigned. Just tell Emily, since she's expecting me back, but send every other agent in the vicinity."

"On it."

The line clicks off and you release your breath, before standing up again. While you wait for the crime scene techs, you poke around his things in the main area, trying to see if anything has been taken or moved. The only thing you notice before they arrive is that a page has been ripped from his address book.

"Agent L/N?" a voice calls from the doorway.

You lift your hand. "Yeah, in here."

They come inside and get to work immediately, so you step out, just in time for Garcia to call you back. "Y/N, I checked local hospitals for his name, and I didn't find anything at first, but then one of them told me something really strange."

"Garcia," you whisper through gritted teeth. You love her, but she needs to hurry up before you explode. "What was it?"

"Someone dropped off a John Doe at St. Sebastian hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

Your vision turns black for a moment. He's back. Foyet's back.

You're rushing to your car before she has a chance to hang up.

***

He's still under anesthesia when you arrive at the hospital. He was stabbed nine times. That's what the nurse told you when you flashed your credentials and asked for any information she could give you.

Now, you're standing in his doorway, trying to build up the nerve to approach his sleeping form. Even with all of the bandages covering his arms and abdomen, he somehow looks peaceful. It's been so long since you've seen his brow unfurrowed, his forehead smooth, without the tension that invades his daily life.

After a few minutes, you take a step inside, then another, and suddenly you're right beside him, reaching out to clutch his hand over the bedsheet.

His skin is cold, and you wrap both hands around his to warm it up, if even by just a little. He's usually a furnace, generating his own heat even when it's freezing out, but whenever he gets hurt, his hands turn to ice.

After a minute, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you let him go to answer it. It's just Emily telling you that she's at the hospital with the rest of the team, and you walk out into the hall to talk to them.

Rossi is the first to reach you. He squeezes you into a hug before getting back to business. "You sure it was Foyet?"

"He had Morgan's credentials," you nod, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. Derek glances at you then, and you press your lips together with a nod.

"Did they catch him on the security cam?"

"You could see him dropping Hotch off," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady, "but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital."

Emily shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the E.R."

The nurse from earlier approaches you then, pulling your attention. "Agents, he's waking up."

You shuffle inside and take his hand again as everyone walks in.

His voice is soft when he opens his eyes. "Where am I?"

"In the hospital," Emily whispers, taking care to be mindful of her volume.

He shuts his eyes for a beat. "How did I get here?"

"Foyet drove you." Rossi doesn't frown often, but the lines of his face are clearer than ever. "Can you remember what happened?"

Hotch shakes his head, closing his eyes. "What did he take? The Reaper always takes something from his victims."

"There was an address page missing from your day planner," you whisper, finally finding your voice. "In the B's."

His eyes snap open and he tries to lift his head from the pillow, but he can only wince. "Where are my clothes?"

Emily hands him a plastic bag filled with his belongings, and he ruffles through them, until he finds his wallet. When he opens it, a photograph is stuffed inside, covered in blood spatter. Haley and Jack.

Your breath catches, and he seems to realize what it means at the same moment you do. "Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the B's in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands."

You squeeze his hand involuntarily, and he exhales sharply. "He knows where they live."

***

When the rest of the team rushes off to his old house, you stay with him at the hospital. You get a call soon from JJ that Haley and Jack are just fine, and you are finally able to breathe easy for the first time all day.

"They're okay," you tell him when you hang up the phone. "That was JJ. She said Haley was home and Jack's at a playdate, but Morgan is going to pick him up right now."

He nods slowly, his body relaxing into the bed. "Good. That's good."

"It is," you say, eyeing his movements. It's still enormously difficult to look at him like this, but you won't be able to move forward if you don't know the truth. "Aaron, what happened? What did he do?"

"I don't remember all of it," he says slowly, clearly taking his time with each word. There's no rush, and he knows it. Even if it takes him hours to get it all out, you'll still be here. "I remember him being there when I got home, after I dropped you off. He fired off a shot into the wall, and then I tried to tackle him, but..."

He trails off, and you squeeze his hand tighter, as though trying to tether him to the present moment. After a few shallow breaths, he continues. "I tried to tackle him, and I got him on the ground, but then he overpowered me." You can almost see it in your mind. The picture he's painting as he weaves over the details with startling clarity. "The first one hurt the most."

The first stab. Your eyes close for a beat, like you're trying to hide from his words. The first of nine.

"I don't remember much after that." You can tell he's leaving things out, but you also don't know if you'll be able to handle it if he does tell you everything.

"That's okay," you whisper as his eyes droop down. "You should rest."

He nods slowly as the exhaustion takes over and his grip loosens around your hand as he falls asleep.

You wait by his side for about a half hour, until you spot a familiar face (with a new haircut) dawdling in the hallway.

You stand up in a fervor. "Oh, thank god."

You rush over to Haley and pull her into a hug, which she returns just as forcefully. "JJ called us when she found you, but it's still really good to see your face."

"It's good to see you too," she says with an exhale before letting you go. You look down and see Jack standing next to her, his mouth downturned as his fingers twiddle at his sides. "Do you mind staying with him while I go talk to Aaron?"

You turn around and see that he's blinking his eyes open again. "Not at all." You take Jack's hand with a smile and lead him down the hall.

"I'm sorry if the big men scared you," you tell him once you find a few seats in the waiting area. "I know it was all very sudden."

To your surprise, his face breaks out into a big grin. "Uncle Derek let me turn on the siren!"

"Wow!" you smile, feeling warm laughter echo around your chest. "That sounds super fun."

He nods ecstatically, before leaning his head over to look back up the hall. "Can I see Daddy now?"

Your smile falls as fast as it appeared and you take his hand again, pressing his fingers between yours. "Soon, baby, soon."

***

He wakes up to the sound of faint talking. He can vaguely see you hugging someone, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision as you disappear down the hall.

"How do you feel?" Haley asks as she walks into his hospital room. She doesn't come further than the foot of the bed, but he's just glad to see her here, in one piece.

He clears his throat quietly. "I'm gonna be okay." She doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't want to focus on him right now. "Did they explain to you what's happening?"

She nods slowly, looking at him for another moment. "They said the Marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody."

She looks upset, and it takes him back to the lowest moments of their relationship. "Haley, I'm sorry."

She looks down and the familiar urge to comfort her returns, even while lying in a hospital bed. "Do you know where they're gonna take us?"

"No, I don't." He tries to catch her eye but she won't look at him. "And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

She finally looks at him then, and her sadness is tinged with exasperation. "Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now."

He doesn't know what else to say but: "I know. I'm sorry." He hopes he's conveying what he means, but it doesn't feel like enough. "We will catch him, and you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

She nods minutely, and he takes the small comfort. "Are you sure that we're in danger?"

"Yes." There's little else he's been more sure of.

"And what about you?" she asks, her voice small. "Are you gonna be safe?"

He doesn't want to worry her, but he also doesn't want to lie. "He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can't see him is better than killing me."

Her brow pinches and she pushes her short hair back from her forehead. "Jack wants to come in."

He tries to argue at first, not because he doesn't want to see him, but because it will only make it harder to let him go again, but eventually she convinces him to accede.

She leaves to go get him, and he leans back on the pillows, trying not to let himself sink inside.

~

Haley finds you in the waiting area, with Jack sitting on your lap, in the middle of a game of I Spy.

"Is he ready for him?" you whisper when you see her approach. She nods and you lift Jack off your lap and set him on his feet. "Off you go, buddy. Time to see Daddy."

"Yay!" he cheers before racing down the hall, you and Haley right behind him. She steers him into the correct room, and he jumps onto the bed before either of you can stop him.

There's a quiet chorus of 'be careful's before he grunts, "Don't worry. It's okay. The doctors made sure that I'm completely fine." He turns to the small boy with a smile you haven't seen in days. "Did Mommy tell you that you two are gonna take a trip?"

Jack nods once, moving his chin up and down dramatically. "Yeah."

"So I'm not gonna see you for a while."

Jack frowns. "Why?" The word sounds so small out of his mouth, and your heart cracks in your chest.

"Well, think about it like when Daddy goes away for work. Only this time you and Mommy get to go someplace."

Jack ponders this for a few seconds, before crawling up again and wrapping his arms around his dad's neck. "Are you okay?"

"I'm very proud of you." It's a father's answer. The kind of response that doesn't tell the truth, but hides the pain with love. "Every single day. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Haley says another goodbye and grabs Jack's hand before leading him out of the room. She gives you another hug, squeezing extra tight for the last second. "It's not his fault."

"Of course it isn't," you whisper, letting her pull back.

"No," she whispers, closing her eyes. "I mean, don't let him blame himself for this."

He's one of the most stoic people you know, but he can also be so transparent sometimes. "I won't. I'll be here."

"He needs you," she says with a sad smile. "He's always needed you, but he especially needs you now."

She doesn't let you respond before she's tugging Jack down the hall. You watch as she exits the side door of the wing, and only turn back when you can't see her anymore. She's one of your longest friends, and you won't be able to see her or her son for god knows how long.

When you step back into the room, you stand at the foot of his bed, trying to gauge what he needs from you, but then you see his expression. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his mouth twists as you rush forward and grab his hand, squeezing it between yours with the grip of someone holding onto a life preserver.

"They'll be okay," you whisper, trying to keep your own tears back. "We'll get through this."

He nods, his eyes still shining. You move to sit in the chair beside him, but he tugs you back, pulling you closer. You understand the desperate look in his eyes, the need for connection and comfort from someone you care about that you've seen in yourself on so many occasions.

Slipping your shoes off, you tuck the sheet into his side and carefully climb onto the little hospital bed, taking care to avoid any of the wires and tubes. Once you're sure you're not pulling on anything, you curl up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. His skin is warmer than it was earlier, and you take solace in the fact that he's going to be okay. Maybe not now, but he will be.

Your breaths synchronize with his and you listen to the beeping of the heart monitor as your own heart rate calms down. There's a feeling tugging at your spine, filling you up and threatening to spill over, but you shove it down, knowing it will be too much right now. You don't have the words to describe the emotions circulating through your brain, so you stick with what you know. "I love you." It's quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you. "Thank you for staying alive."

"You're welcome," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the monitor. "I love you too."

***

You leave the hospital the next morning with a plan. He's still asleep when you wake up, so you get up carefully and thank the nurses one more time before heading out.

You make two stops on the way to his apartment, and this time, you use your spare key to unlock the front door. The crime scene crew cleaned the blood off the floor, and you told Rossi to get them to spackle the hole in the wall, for at least a temporary fix, but there's still an air about the place. It was just starting to feel like his home, and now it's soiled, once again.

You shut the door behind you and drop your bags to the ground, surveying the place one last time for any damage or mess you missed earlier. When everything seems fine, you get to work.

An hour later, you slump back against the wall and toss the packet of instructions to the ground. In front of you is a freshly installed security system, with a door proximity sensor and keypad for when he leaves the house in a hurry.

You can already hear the arguments coming, but you don't care anymore. You won't be able to sleep knowing he's in here, all alone, without anything to keep Foyet from coming back and finishing the job.

For someone who has as little of a technical background as you do, you're impressed with how quickly you were able to get the system running, and you test it a couple of times, turning it on and off and checking the doors, before you finally pull his door closed and lock it behind you.

***

The doctors don't release him until the end of the week, but once he's able to walk again, he calls you to get him from the hospital. By the time he signs his discharge papers and makes the phone call, you're already almost there, and as much as he hates putting you out on a weekend, he can't help the satisfaction that rumbles through him.

The drive to his apartment is mostly silent, with him just trying to stay still as you take the turns carefully, and drive five under the speed limit. When you arrive, you hold the bag of salves and ointments for him as you take his arm, helping him down the hall and to his front door.

He moves to grab his key, but you stop him with a forceful "Wait!"

"I can unlock my own door," he grumbles, but you just shake your head, taking the key from him and turning it slowly in the lock. The moment it swings open, a loud beeping fills the air, and you rush forward to type something into the keypad by his door. Wait...keypad? "When did tha-"

"Before you argue," you jump in, clearly anticipating his disgruntlement, "it's for me, okay."

He raises an eyebrow and you glare at him, but there's no effort behind it. "I mean, it's obviously for you, but still...it's for my peace of mind too."

You're rambling makes him crack a smile for the first time in days, and he nods slowly. "Okay."

Your mouth snaps shut and you look at him with a meek smile. "Okay."

You help him get settled on the couch, and he waits there as you scrounge up some food from the kitchen. He's not sure he has anything perishable, but you manage to put together a comforting bowl of pasta with jarred tomato sauce that makes him feel a little more at home.

As the evening turns to night, he catches himself glancing at his watch more often than not, and eventually you catch on too.

"Is it time?" you ask, your voice gentle.

After a breath, he nods, and you reach across the coffee table to grab his bag of supplies from the doctor. You lay the salve and extra gauze on the table, and wait for him to make the next move, a decision he accepts gratefully.

He's been injured before. He knows how painful it is to sanitize a wound, and especially one as deep and grotesque as his. He just needs a few moments to accept the fact that he's...scared.

"I can do it," he says once he's ready, before reaching for the salve. The simple motion makes him wince and you jump in right away, grabbing it for him and undoing the top.

"Let me," you whisper, your words somewhere between a statement and a question. "Please."

He can already feel his stitches pulling, just from the simple act of swiveling his body to face you, so he gives in with a quick nod.

He doesn't look at you as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He's not embarrassed - you've never pitied him, even at his lowest moments - but he needs the semblance of privacy as he exposes his injuries to the open air.

The air feels cold as he pulls his undershirt over his head, and you get to work immediately, peeling back the old layer of gauze as slowly as you can. The sections directly over his wounds stick slightly, and he grits his teeth against the pain as you gently tug them free, making sure to avoid pulling his stitches.

"Do you want a break?" you ask once the gauze has been fully removed. He shakes his head, needing this to be over as soon as possible, but when he meets your eyes, he sees them welling up with tears.

He glances down at his bare torso, his eyes darting over the jagged scars ranging from his stomach to his collarbone. Your breath stutters as you take it in with him, and he looks at you. "He made sure we'd match."

He sees you rapidly blinking away the tears that rush forward, and he wants to comfort you somehow, but he doesn't know what to do. You help him lean back on the armrest, so you can apply the salve around each of his injuries, and as your fingers press into his skin, he can't help but be reminded of his childhood. The pressure of your hands as you wrapped him with bandages, the warmth of your breath when you leaned in to inspect your work.

It's usually a sad memory when he thinks back to his childhood, but with you, it was always good. He watches as you slowly tape the new layer of gauze around his abdomen, and even as tears slide down your cheeks, the way you look at him doesn't change.

"All done," you whisper after pressing on the final pieces of tape. "How do you feel?"

Anxious. Terrified. Lonely. Guilty. "Good. Thank you."

***

"Hey, it's Emily."

"What's up, Em?" you say, your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you hop around, trying to get your shoes on before work.

"How was your weekend?"

You pause. "Fine?" The question isn't out of the ordinary, you're just not sure why she called to ask you that when she's going to be seeing you in person in about twenty minutes. "How was yours?"

"Oh, you know." She sounds distracted, and you feel a smile pull at your lips as you realize she's avoiding something.

"Em...is there a reason you called? You know, given that we're both on our way to the same place."

She clears her throat, and you hear the indecision in her voice, even over the phone. "I know this is kind of a weird question, but would you mind if I picked up Hotch for work this morning. I left late last night, so JJ was able to brief me early, and I figured he could use a headstart."

You stop your movements, straightening up and lifting your hand to your cell. It's not at all what you were expecting her to say, but that's not all you're confused about. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask me first, though. We're all teammates."

She makes an little noise that you don't recognize. "Yeah...but you two are different."

You don't know what to say to that, so you just wait for her to keep going. Emily was never very good at uncomfortable silences, so after a few moments, she's back. "Anyway...I'll grab Hotch and see you in 30?"

You try to hide your grin, even though no one can see you. "Sounds like it."

"Bye."

The phone clicks off, and you tuck it back into your pocket, still smiling. You're already in a better mood than normal, because after 34 days of medical leave, Aaron comes back to work today.

You finish clasping your shoe and head out the door, more relaxed this time. With Emily picking up Aaron, you're not in a rush anymore. You take the drive at a leisurely pace, and when you arrive at the office, you run into Spencer by the front of the building.

"Wait up!" you call out, jogging over to him before he gets in the elevator. "Let me get that." You slide the strap of his book bag off his shoulder and sling it onto yours. He nods in thanks and tucks his crutch under his arm as he presses the button for your floor.

"I thought I'd be used to the crutches by now, but I keep tripping over everything." You scrunch your brow with amusement as he frowns down at his leg. "The doctors say it's healing well, though."

The elevator doors open and you step in front of him to get the door across the hall. "Does it hurt?"

He shrugs. "It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."

The statement isn't exactly comical, but his deadpan tone makes you snort as you hold the door, and he smiles as he passes by you. You follow him to Garcia's lair, and she perks up upon seeing the both of you.

"My babies," she grins, pulling out a chair for Spencer. "Sit, sit."

You let out a laugh as you place his bag on the floor next to him. "I'm older than you."

"Who's counting?" she throws back, typing something furiously into her computer. She turns around a moment later, just in time to swat Spencer's hand away from the tin of cookies sitting on her table. "No, no, no."

"What?" he complains, gaping at her.

She swats him again, before pulling the tin away from him. "Get away, you. These are for Hotch."

"Butterscotch?" you ask, glancing down at the box. His preference for butterscotch cookies was something you used to tease him about when you were kids. Butterscotch Hotch.

Penelope nods and lifts the edge of the lid, implicitly offering you a cookie. When you take one, Spencer throws his hands up into the air. "Why does she get one? I get shot in the leg and I still don't get any cookies."

You laugh and break off half of your cookie, which he takes from you the moment it's in your palm. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth, not bothering to swallow it before he pipes up again. "You know he's gonna hate the attention."

"It's cookies," Garcia pouts, "not cake."

Spencer shrugs. "He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway."

"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."

You don't know how to weigh in to this discussion, mostly because you know more about how he's feeling than they do, but also because the idea of speculating on his recovery without him here feels like a betrayal.

"What do you think?"

You look up and realize that Spencer was directing this question to you. Swallowing down the last bit of your cookie, you cough once to clear your throat. "I think he's been through a lot, but sometimes coming back to work is the best way to take your mind off of things. Foyet was in his home. I don't think staring at the same walls that used to have bullet holes in them is exactly healthy either."

Spencer and Penelope both stare at you for a moment, before nodding and looking down. They remind you of two children who have just been reprimanded, and you smile to soften the sentiment. "I love you guys for caring about this, but we just have to trust that he's okay."

"Yeah," Penelope nods, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. "Are you okay? This can't have been easy for you, either."

"I'm fine," you say too quickly. "Nothing happened to me." It's not a lie, exactly. You weren't the one who was stabbed. Nine times. "I've just been keeping him company after work, and helping with some of his post-hospital care checklist."

"He's lucky to have you," Penelope says softly, to which Spencer nods.

"He was great too after I got shot," you add, feeling oddly defensive of your friendship. "He stayed with me for a long time when my dad was gone."

She smiles at you sadly, before holding the tin out for you. "Want another cookie?"

You let out a weak laugh as Spencer chuffs behind you, and you shake your head. "No thanks."

"Do you think he'll like them?" Her voice sounds earnest, and you nod, knowing what it's like to want so desperately to understand someone who's as closed off as he seems at times.

"Spence, Y/N, there you guys are."

You turn around to see JJ, her face lined with tension. "Are you ready for us?"

She nods. "Grab your go bag."

***

He's been erratic all day. When he snapped at Garcia earlier for missing the antipsychotics link, you wanted to throttle him, especially when you remembered the cookies she had waiting for him in her office.

The thought that maybe Spencer was right keeps flashing through your mind as you watch him get frustrated with everyone, including himself. When you all arrive at the Darrin Call's father's house, where he and a young boy he kidnapped are waiting, Aaron instructs Emily to speak with the lieutenant on scene to figure out what you're dealing with.

"The kid's in there," you hear him say, "We've got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. Call needs a distraction. He's focused on the old man."

Emily glances back at the house as she ties her hair back. "For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out."

"I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate."

"You do that and someone else dies."

The man just shrugs. "Either Call or a child murderer...flip a coin."

"It doesn't have to end like that." You can see how hard she's trying to make the lieutenant understand, but sometimes the locals just don't listen. "We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die."

There's movement behind you and you turn around at the last second as Aaron stalks past you and towards the house.

"Hotch," you call out, but he doesn't look back. "Aaron. Aaron!"

He's almost at the front door, and your feet start moving without you realizing it. You make it within a few feet of the front gate before two pairs of arms seize you from behind, halting your momentum.

"Let him go," Dave whispers as he and Derek release you. "We have to trust him."

"He's not thinking straight," you grit out, unable to tear your eyes away from the closed door as you step forward again. He wasn't wearing his vest, and you can't remember if you saw his gun in his holster. You close your eyes, wracking your brain. Think, goddamnit.

Derek grabs you again as you try to make a break for it, anticipating your movements before you even know what you're doing. "Rossi's right. We have to trust him. We can't help him if we rush inside now."

"We can't help him out here either!" Your voice sounds frenzied in your ears, but he doesn't loosen his grip, even as you try to shove him off of you.

"You know we're right." He looks at you sternly, and your resolve diminishes as reason starts to set in. "Going inside will only make it worse."

Emily comes up from behind you and takes your arm, leading you back to the street in front of the house. You back up, but you don't turn around, ready to rush in the moment anything changes.

"What's he doing?" she asks Derek, her voice quiet, like she doesn't want you to hear.

"Stalling," he says simply. "He's got nothing to lose."

Your breath catches and you lift your hand to your chest, clutching the top of your vest like it's a lifeline. You want to scream at them, scream that he has everything to lose. He has a son, and an ex-wife who loves him, and he has you.

"You got the shot?"

"Negative."

He suddenly appears in the front of the door, but you can tell he's angling his body to block the visual of the shot. What is he doing?

The door opens for a split second, and the little boy runs down the porch and into the arms of one of the SWAT members. It shuts as fast as it opened up, and you only manage to see his face for a moment before he disappears into the house again.

For a minute, there's only silence, until the air is pierced with the sound of three gunshots, one after the other. Your body visibly flinches and you throw yourself forward and over the gate, pulling out your gun at the last moment as you breach the front door.

When you storm into the living room, Aaron is putting cuffs on Darrin. The father is dead in his recliner at the center of the room.

"What happened?" Dave asks from behind you.

He purses his lips. "I couldn't stop him." It's then that he finally looks up at you, but all you can do is glare. You don't know if you've ever been angrier in your life, and definitely not at him.

His brow dips with a mix of confusion and remorse, but you just stuff your gun back in its holster, spin around, and stalk out of the house. The fresh air outside feels like a welcome respite from the emotions swirling around inside of you, and you turn your face to the sky as your brain fires off millions of questions at once.

When did he get so reckless?

Is this all because of Foyet? The need to feel like he's getting something done, with his family on lockdown?

He comes out of the house then, and you're practically shaking from the relief that he is okay, but the anger isn't fading. You can feel it flooding your veins with each breath you take.

He hands Call off and approaches you slowly, stopping in front of you with a look you don't recognize.

"This is the job," he says simply, his voice almost cold. "You know what you signed up for."

"I know what I signed up for?" Your face twists with disbelief and you look at him with contempt. "Fuck you, Hotch." His face drops slightly and it only feeds your fight. You know him better than anyone else in this world, and that also means you know exactly how far you can push him until he cracks.

"This is what we do." His voice is tight, and you see your anger reflected in his eyes. "You knew that when you joined the team."

Emily and Dave exit the house, and you can feel their eyes flickering over to you, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.

"No," you grit out, shaking your head. "You don't get to be angry with me. You don't get to say that to me."

He looks at you for a beat before his face falls and you see all the fight leave him. He sighs, his brow pinching. "You're right."

You can practically see the war going on inside his head. The battle between fear and action, where there are no winners.

You nod as you look down at the ground, and he reaches forward to take your hand. He squeezes it tightly, before lifting it to his chest. "Y/N." I love you, I'm sorry.

You nod. "I know." I'm sorry too.

***

You've been looking at the text JJ sent you for the better part of an hour. Something's going on. Strauss was in Hotch's office and it looked bad.

You're reminded of his suspension and the two long weeks you worked here without him, and you internally resolve that it won't be happening again if you have any say at all.

The next morning, you're one of the last people to arrive, and you walk into a conversation that Spencer is having with Emily at his desk.

"You're not gonna believe this," he says, turning to you and lifting his hands dramatically. "Some moron just posted a blog called 'What would Carl Sagan do?' and it's completely illogical."

"L/N, what did I miss?"

You spin around to see Derek strutting into the bullpen, his phone held up in his hand.

"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown.

He looks at you expectantly, and you start to feel like you're on the outside of something you should know. "All the emails from Hotch..."

You yank your phone from your pocket and refresh your email. "I don't have any new ones."

"Me neither," Reid chimes in from next to you.

Derek doesn't wait another moment before he's barreling past you and up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"What was that about?" Spencer asks, a confused look on his face.

"I don't know," you say honestly, "but I think we're gonna find out soon."

~

"You wanted to see me?"

He nods and you step into his office, shutting the door behind you. Ever since his private conversation with Derek this morning, you've been obnoxiously curious about what's been going on with the team, but you also know when not to overstep your boundaries.

"Take a seat." He beckons to the couch on the far wall, and he sits down across from you when you plop down. "We have to talk about something."

"If you say Strauss suspended you again-" He cuts you off with a lift of his hand. You look at him sheepishly and nod. "You were saying..."

"This is going to sound odd, but just hear me out." You're starting to get worried, but he doesn't look anxious, so that's a start. You nod, and he continues. "The bureau thinks that my ability to lead this team has been compromised. They've been questioning me since Foyet's attack, and they're not entirely wrong."

You want to refute this, but you've also been questioning some of his actions as of late. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that you won't have his back if it comes down to it. "They can't fire you. The whole team will fight back if they even try."

He looks at you with something that resembles concern. Concern? "They won't fire me...because I'm stepping down."

"What?" you burst out, unable to help your volume. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week, but I'm not leaving this team."

You think you have an idea of where this is going, but his eyes are still tracking your movements, like they do when he's worried about how you'll react. You don't know how it could get much worse than this, but then you realize he hasn't told you who will be replacing him.

"I told Morgan to take my place until we catch Foyet."

There it is. You don't expect it to sting as much as it does. "Oh."

Your voice sounds small to your own ears, and you clear your throat to keep the emotion out. This isn't a personal decision, it's professional. If Strauss was telling you this now, it probably wouldn't faze you. So why does it hurt coming from him?

"Strauss wasn't happy with your decision to not take the New York position," he explains, his eyes finding yours. "You know I think you deserve more leadership roles. It was her that suggested Morgan for it, and I couldn't argue when she was already so unsure about letting me promote internally."

"I get it," you nod. Your tone a bit sharper than expected, even though you understand where the decision came from. Derek deserves this position too. "I do, I promise."

He raises his eyebrows with a check in, and after a moment, you finally nod. It's okay. We're good.

"I'll see you in the morning?"

You dip your chin. "Good night."

***

"I can't believe Hotch is stepping down."

Penelope, Emily, Spencer, and JJ are all unabashedly watching Derek as he briefs Strauss on the case he chose for today. You've been trying not to look, but every few minutes, something snags your attention.

"Morgan said it's business as usual," Emily adds, her brow furrowed as she watches them converse.

Penelope doesn't seem eased. "So we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?"

Spencer shrugs. "After Foyet, I think we'd have to be ready for anything."

Derek finishes speaking with Strauss then, and you stand up as he asks Emily to call Rossi for the briefing. He looks official with his ironed button-down, and you can't help but wonder if he's trying to emulate Aaron.

You flash him a cheeky smile as he walks towards the conference room, but he just brushes past you. 

~

Derek steps into his new role effectively, and you even notice him provide extra feedback to everyone throughout the case. Hotch has a bit of a difficult time stepping down at first, but you know it comes from habit, not distrust.

When you're back at the office later that night, you look up to see that he is still in his office, furiously jotting something down, even though his responsibilities have been greatly diminished. You don't know why you expected the demotion to make him want to cut back a bit.

Derek is the only person still in the bullpen when you take a seat again. You finished up the last of your paperwork, so you start to pack up your stuff, but then your interaction from earlier crosses your mind again.

Latching your bag closed, you stand up and perch on the edge of Derek's desk. "Hey, boss, how's the responsibility feel?"

"Fine," he mutters, his tone snippier than you've ever heard it.

"A lot more paperwork than you were expecting, huh?"

He doesn't look at you, so you reach forward to tap the back of his hand. "Derek, come on, what's going on with you?"

You brace for him to snap at you again, but then he just sighs, setting his pen down. "You're not angry with me, right?"

"What?" You don't know where this is coming from, seeing as how he's been the one who's been avoiding you all day. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Why?" he repeats, his face twisted with disbelief. "I basically stole this position out from under you."

You shake your head forcefully, putting your hand over his on the desk. "Not even close, hon. Anything on my end was bureau politics, but that's just one side of it. You deserve this just as much as I would have. You've even been at the BAU longer than I have."

He's silent for a moment, before he turns his hand under yours and clasps it gently. You give his hand a squeeze before bringing your other one up to his cheek. "You're doing a great job. You were an amazing leader out there today. Hotch picked you well."

Derek leans into your hand for a beat, before letting out another sigh. "Thanks."

"Seriously, Derek," you say with a smile. "This might have been one of his best professional decisions yet."

That makes him laugh, before shaking his head. "Nah, his best decision was bringing you to this team."

Your chest fills with warmth and you lean forward to pull him into a hug. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, and you settle into the hug, turning away from the office light upstairs and trying to ignore the fact that Aaron hasn't looked up from his desk since you started talking.

***

"Agent Hotchner, before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."

Karl Arnold, the Fox, has been taunting each of you throughout the whole day, and right when you finally thought you were done, he drew you right back in. You follow Hotch and Prentiss back into the interrogation room.

"So you think you found my admirer."

"No," Aaron says simply. "We found the killer."

Arnold grins. "With my help, of course."

"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you..." Emily sneers, "lost."

Arnold turns to her, and the look in his eyes makes your skin crawl. "My love, your guy is far from lost."

Hotch shakes his head, turning to the door. "We're done."

"So is he." All three of you spin back around, much to his amusement. "'Look at what I have done.' It's quite brilliant, you know?"

"We will find whoever sent you that."

"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."

Aaron immediately starts flipping through the file on the table, shoving pictures and papers aside as he searches for something. Something about Arnold's tone sends your mind reeling and you grab the journal in front of you and start flipping through it as well.

"What's going on?" Emily asks, coming up behind you.

Arnold just laughs. "He's torturing him."

"Who?"

He ignores her. "It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."

You reach one of the bookmarked pages, and the symbol that greets you almost makes you drop the journal. "Aaron..."

His eyes snap to your hands as his skin turns white. "Foyet."

The three of you rush out of the interrogation room, accompanied by the disturbing sound of Arnold's laughter echoing behind you.

Just before the door shuts behind you, you hear his final words. "He knew you'd come."

***

The whole team spends days with only one goal in mind: find and capture Foyet. JJ works with you and Garcia to track prescription medications that he would be on given his self-inflicted injuries, and Spencer, Emily, and Aaron put together a geographic profile using the letters from the Fox and the proximity of nearby pharmacies. Derek's role as acting unit chief keeps him busy all on its own, but he manages to keep the team on track as he turns any new cases that come in to other teams.

When JJ returns from a local pharmacy with the discovery that many prescription meds have over-the-counter alternatives, the focus shifts. Garcia narrows down the list, and brings back a list of names that is way too long to feasibly question.

"153 names," you huff, leaning over her shoulder as she scrolls down the list.

Emily frowns. "Well, he's not gonna use his own name."

"What kind of aliases should we be looking for?"

You all consider this, before Derek chimes in. "He could have easily stolen someone's identity."

Hotch shuts that idea down immediately. "No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case."

"A victim, maybe," you guess, "or a cop?"

Garcia doesn't find anything on the initial search, but thankfully Spencer suggests another approach. "Guys, Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."

Emily frowns. "Like an anagram or something?"

Spencer walks over to the white board and writes out George Foyet, before fiddling around with the spellings of possible anagrams. You walk up behind him and follow his movements along the board. "You see something, Spence?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet."

"Spencer," you interrupt as the realization comes to you, "he named himself The Reaper."

He pauses for a beat, before switching over to scrawling out possible anagrams for The Reaper instead. After a moment, he's done. "Peter Rhea."

Penelope is already searching. "There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington."

Rossi nods, a satisfied look on his face. "We found him."

***

Garcia sends out the address of an apartment in his name, and you drive over with Hotch, who doesn't say a word the whole way over. You keep glancing at him, trying to be discreet, but the tension in his posture doesn't fade, even after the breakthrough.

The apartment ends up being empty, but when you all go inside, there's a laptop sitting on the center table. Emily dials Garcia the moment you realize that the files on it are being remotely deleted, and when she hacks in, she comes across a series of surveillance photos that make you gasp out loud. "Oh my god, isn't that-"

"That's the US Marshall protecting my family." His face looks frozen with stress as he dials Marshall Kassmeyer's number. When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron stalks out of the apartment and to the SUVs parked out front. He doesn't wait for you to get in, before he's already driving off.

"Where is he going?" Emily calls out as she exits the building behind you.

"Kassmeyer's house," you say, almost certain that you're correct. With the knowledge that his family is most likely in immediate danger, there is nothing anyone could do to stop him from trying to save them. "I'm gonna follow him."

"Here," Rossi says, tossing his car keys to you. You accept them gratefully and speed off down the road.

~

Kassmeyer is bleeding out when you get to his house. Aaron is already inside, trying to get him to explain what happened, and when he describes how Foyet taunted him and stabbed him, you resist the urge to take Aaron's hand.

"Sam," he says suddenly, leaning over him. "I need to understand. Does he know where Jack and Haley are?"

Your heart rate skyrockets as Kassmeyer mumbles another apology. If Foyet knows where they are, you don't know if any of you will be able to get there in time.

The paramedics rush in then, and they carry Sam out to the awaiting ambulance as he refuses sedation. Aaron runs out after them and throws himself into the back of the ambulance before you can catch up.

~

Without any new leads, there's nowhere for you to go, so you wait out front in your SUV as you wrack your brain for where Foyet would have told Haley and Jack to go. You don't know how long it takes until another agent calls you from the hospital with the news that Marshall Kassmeyer died in surgery.

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. One more body you can attribute to The Reaper. "Is Agent Hotchner there?"

The voice is tinny over the line. "He took one of the SUVs and left a few minutes ago."

"Where?" You can hear how frantic your voice sounds, but you don't care. "Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure," the agent says. "He sped away before anyone could ask."

You hang up the phone and turn the car on, before pulling onto the street and calling the team line. Garcia picks up on the first ring.

"Sam died in surgery," you explain as you turn at the end of the street. "Hotch is already gone, but I'm gonna go to the hospital now in case someone has more info."

"Okay, honey," she says, patching in the rest of the team. When they answer, she repeats your statement, before she gets cut off. "Guys, Hotch is calling Foyet."

"Patch us in," Derek instructs over the line, before going silent. You mute yourself as well, before turning back to the road.

"Agent Hotchner."

Foyet's voice makes you nauseous, and you can practically hear the grin behind his words.

"If you touch her..." Aaron doesn't even finish the threat, but you can feel the rage within it.

"Be gentle, like I was with you?"

Your eyes prick with tears as you remember the scars that are now a permanent fixture on his body. The matching scars. The idea of Haley ending up the same way, or Jack-

"What the hell took you so long?" Foyet complains, his tone playful. "I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."

Aaron doesn't answer him, and the anger is almost palpable over the line.

"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated," he finally responds. "You're more predictable than you think."

"Am I?"

He starts to recount the tale of Foyet's life, weaving in details that you didn't know from his childhood and the pain he was causing before he was even old enough to drive. You suppose this was what all of those late nights at the office were for. You hope they were worth it.

"That's the thing, George," he continues, his voice suddenly softer. It's like he's pleading with him. "This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"

There's silence for a few moments, and you can hear your heartbeat in your skull. Eventually Foyet comes back. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair."

Your heart falls into your stomach. He has her. He already has her.

"She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her."

Just when you think that might be the worst of it, he continues. "Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"

He has them both. You can barely see the road through the anger and fear that is coursing through your veins. Another phone rings and Foyet answers it, leaving his line with Hotch on as well. "Mrs. Hotchner. I'm here. Open the gate and I'll drive in."

You can't hear her reply, before Foyet returns to the call you're listening to. "Aaron? I really gotta go."

The call disconnects, and you can't breathe. Open the gate. The gate. What gate?

Think, think, goddamnit think.

The answer hits you like a truck. "His house. They're at his old house."

Emily whispers something that sounds like "shit" and you swerve across the lanes to make a u-turn. "I'm heading there now."

Assuming Aaron was already heading back after leaving the hospital, he would reach the house before any of you. You can only hope he'll be there in time.

Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you're gripping the steering wheel, and when Garcia patches you all in for another call from Foyet, the tears are already flowing down your cheeks.

"Aaron?"

It's Haley's voice. You gasp out loud from the relief that she's still alive.

"You're okay?" She sounds so scared, but at least she's alive. That's all you can focus on right now.

Aaron answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm fine."

"But...he said that..." The realization hits her, and she lets out a small sob. "Oh, Aaron."

"He can hear us, right?"

"Yes."

His voice is softer then, wet with tears. "I am so sorry. Haley, show him no weakness, no fear."

"I know." Of course she does. She was married to a profiler for years. She knows what all of this means, but she doesn't deserve any of it. "Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh..."

"No," he says gently. "Sam is fine."

Foyet's voice is like the hiss of a snake as it joins the call. "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?" His voice is too close to the phone. You want to scream for him to get away from her, but you're not supposed to be listening, and your car isn't moving fast enough.

"He's trying to scare you, Haley." His voice is trembling, and you can hear the tightness behind each of his words.

When Foyet mentions the deal, your stomach roils with nausea. You can picture the exact look on Aaron's face as he blames himself for this entire situation, even though it's happening to him, not because of him.

"Don't react."

Haley's voice is shaking too as she whispers, "What is he talking about?"

"Tell Jack I need him working the case."

"What?" She sounds confused, and that's when you remember the signal he told you about. The words that only Jack knows that are meant to keep him safe from situations exactly like this.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case," he repeats, his voice steadier. But all of it goes away the moment Haley hands her son the phone.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, buddy." His voice cracks and you feel your heart crack with it. The tears are rushing down your cheeks now, and you wipe them out of your eyes with the back of your hand as you get closer to the house. But not close enough.

Aaron tells him to work the case again, and he gives Haley a hug before rushing out of the room.

"He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-Man." Foyet chuckles, before yelling out. "I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"

Aaron ignores him, and you feel his focus return. "Is he gone?"

"Yes." Haley's voice is strong, and you release a single sigh of relief as you press the gas pedal down as hard as you can.

Aaron's voice returns and you can hear the anguish as he speaks. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."

"You'll hurry, right?" The fear in her voice breaks your heart, and you want to assure her that you're all doing everything you can, but you're still a few streets away.

"I know you didn't sign on for this."

Neither did you.

She echoes your thoughts. "Neither did you."

His voice breaks into a sob. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh."

"Haley..."

"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron." Her words sound so final, and you can't imagine what Foyet is pointing at her right now, but you can only hope that Aaron gets there before it's too late. "I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him." She sounds almost resolute, and your body floods with hope for a split second. "Promise me."

His breathing is ragged as he whispers, "I promise."

Three gunshots ring out and the wheel jerks in your hand as a painful sob wrenches from your throat. No, no, no.

~

You race out of your car the moment you pull to a stop in front of the house. There's only one other SUV outside, and you don't give yourself a moment to think as you rush inside, lifting your gun at the last second.

The front foyer is empty, but then a jagged thumping fills the air and you dart around the corner to find Aaron beating Foyet to a pulp. You can tell from where you're standing that he's already dead, but that doesn't seem to matter to him.

"Aaron!" you yell, hoping to break his reverie. His hands are covered in blood as he pounds the man's face in, and he doesn't look up until you grab him from behind and yank his arms back. "Aaron, he's dead. He's dead."

He stops moving, and for one single second, everything is still. Then his body pitches forward and he breaks down as he sobs, his hands coming up like he's begging for the pain to go away.

You clutch him as tightly as you can, like if you hold him close enough, he won't fall apart. You can hear the voices of your teammates as they enter the house, but then his head lifts and he pulls himself up, dashing down the hall. You follow after him, rushing past Morgan and Rossi, and you realize where he's going in real time as he runs into his office and kneels down beside his desk.

Please, please, not him. Just not him. He opens the cabinet and you all share a gasp of relief as Jack's little face peeks out, his skin unmarred.

"I worked the case, Daddy. Just like you said."

Aaron reaches in and picks him up, before squeezing him tightly, his little face glancing around the room in confusion.

"You did a great job, buddy." He releases him after a few moments, before handing him off to JJ to go outside and away from the carnage littering the house. You press a kiss to his forehead before she lifts him up and walks out of the room.

Emily looks at you then, concern flashing in her eyes, but you just nod, and she follows JJ, pulling the door closed behind her.

You turn back around just in time to catch Aaron as he collapses to the floor. The weight sends you both to your knees, and he crushes you to him as you hold him as tightly as you can. His sobs mix in with your own, and you try not to let your body shake from the force of your crying, because you need to be strong for him.

He buries his face into your neck, his tears mixing with the blood on his face as it soaks your shirt and vest.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper into his hair. It doesn't feel like enough, but there's nothing else to say. "I'm so sorry."

~

Derek and Emily come back with the paramedics eventually to take him outside to check for injuries, and you're about to follow after them when something catches your eye. A pair of feet invade your periphery as you glance through a doorway down the hall. Oh god.

Your knees buckle and Derek catches you before you stumble forward into her room. You fall to your knees beside her, and you vaguely hear Emily whisper something behind you before there's just silence.

Her eyes are already closed, and if you really wanted to, you could try to pretend that she was just sleeping, but there's too much blood. You reach out to push her short hair back from her forehead, so that you can see her face one last time. One last time.

A sob rips out of you and you take her hand, pressing it to your lips. The scene is suddenly too much, and you close your eyes before letting out a shaky breath. You don't know what your life is going to look like without her presence. What Aaron's life with look like, or Jack's.

You squeeze her hand again before laying it on her stomach, and Emily comes forward then to help you up. Derek holds the door open as she leads you outside, and helps you tear your vest off the moment you hit the fresh afternoon air.

You bend over, hands on your knees, gulping back fresh air and trying not to throw up. Emily pats your back as you take in deep breaths, rubbing comforting circles that help to calm down your heart rate.

When you look up, you spot Aaron sitting on the edge of an ambulance. The medics are cleaning his cuts, and one of them is holding an ice pack to his head, when you walk over to survey the damage.

He doesn't look up when you approach, instead staring at his bloody hands with a look you can't discern. You can't imagine what he must be thinking right now, but if you know him at all, you know that sometimes you don't need to talk.

You reach down and take his hands, holding them in yours with a tight grip that forces him to look at you. Neither of you says anything, but it's okay, because there is nothing left to say. There will be soon, but not right now.

***

"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jess tells you as she slings her purse over her shoulder.

You nod at her as you pick Jack off the ground and swing him up into your arms. "Take your time. We'll be hanging out here."

Aaron beckons for Jess to walk out in front of him before he dips his chin at you. "Thank you again."

"Of course," you smile, shaking your head. They're going to make the last arrangements for the funeral, and the absolute least you can do is watch Jack while they're away.

"Can we watch cartoons?" Jack asks the moment the front door shuts behind them.

"Soon, baby," you laugh lightly, before placing him on the ground and leading him to the kitchen. "We gotta make lunch first."

You throw together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring them to the breakfast table, where Jack is obediently scribbling away at his coloring book. "Here you go, Jack-o-lantern."

He takes a massive bite before you can sit down, but over the next ten minutes, he only manages to finish about half of the sandwich. "I'm done."

"You sure?" you ask, scrunching your face into a playful frown. "I think you got at least a couple more bites in you."

He shakes his head forcefully, before dropping the sandwich onto his plate. You know he doesn't usually eat much, but he hasn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. "Come on, hon, at least another big bite."

"No!" he yells, pushing the plate away from him. Before you can stop him, he jumps off of his chair and races out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.

You hear the door slam shut behind him, and you heave out a sigh before clearing away both of your plates and wiping down the counter. You don't fault him for anything, you just can't believe he has to go through something like this.

He's so young. Younger than you were when you lost your mom. There's some comfort in the fact that he likely won't remember this pain when he's older, but then comes the nausea. The sickening reminder that one day he'll forget about her. Haley, his mother, your best friend's wife, your friend.

You slowly make your way to his room, knocking on the door twice before calling out his name. When he doesn't answer, you twist the knob and gently open the door. "Jack?"

He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit on the floor in front of him. He's fiddling around with a set of colorful wooden blocks, and he only looks at you once you pick one up yourself. The edges have been worn smooth from being tossed around, and you run your fingers against them as you wait for him to speak.

"Did Mommy want to leave?"

You can practically hear your heart crack in two as the block falls from your hand. Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting to scare him.

"No, baby, no," you say quickly, reaching forward to rub your thumb over his cheek. "She loved you more than anything in this world."

He still doesn't look convinced, so you rest your palms on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. "If it was her choice, she would have never left you."

After a moment, his lips jut out into a pout, but he nods once. "Is Daddy gonna leave too?"

The tears rush forward again. You want to tell him that Aaron would never leave him, that he may be gone most nights until after Jack is asleep, and sometimes even before he's up for breakfast, but he would never leave. But you also know that Haley didn't want to either, but sometimes the job takes more than you're willing to give. "He's not going to leave you. Not if he can help it."

That seems to calm him down for the time being, so you take his hand and lead him back to the living room. Once he's situated on the couch, you switch on his cartoons for him, turning the volume down low.

He settles into the cushion next to you, his arm resting on your thigh as he focuses on the screen in front of him, while your eyes wander down to the small tv stand. They land on a framed photo of Haley and Jess together, smiling at the camera as the sun shines down on their faces, and you lift your hand to your mouth to stifle the tears that rush forward.

When your eyes pan over to the photo of you and her, with Aaron and Jess right behind you, the tears stream down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, trying to be quiet so as not to call away Jack's attention. But the cartoons are too quiet, and when a small sob escapes, Jack looks up, his brow furrowing with a look reminiscent of his father. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," you nod, forcing a smile onto your face as you look down at him and press a kiss to his temple. "I just loved your mom very much."

***

The ground is still wet from the rain. It squelches beneath your feet as Jess clutches onto your arm, letting you lead her across the cemetery for the service.

You walk behind the pallbearers as they bring Haley to the top of the open grass and set her down carefully with a reverence that brings tears to your eyes again. You don't know if your eyes have been dry at any moment today, but the tears haven't spilled over yet. It's only a matter of time.

Aaron is ahead of everyone, looking down at the small sheet of paper in his hands, with Jack by his side. The young boy looks so small in his suit, and his eyes dart around the procession with a mix of confusion and sadness that pierces your chest.

When Aaron is ready to begin, Jessica lets go and walks up to stand on his other side, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Your arm feels cold where she used to be, but it doesn't last long as another hand takes its place. You turn your head to see Spencer, one hand on his cane, and the other on your arm, as he holds you tightly to his side, his eyes brimming with tears as well. You don't expect that there's a dry eye in the crowd.

Aaron starts his speech with a quote, but the steadiness in his voice starts to waver the moment he says her name. "Haley was my best friend since we were in high school."

You remember how fiercely he loved her, even back then. The tenacity with which he pursued her when he realized that she was someone he wanted to spend his life with.

His voice continues as his eyes dip down. "We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son Jack." Your tears surface again, but you suck them back with a deep breath. "Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today."

Aaron looks up then, and his eyes land on the casket in front of him. "A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature. And we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life."

His hand flexes at his side, and you wish desperately that you were up there with him, holding his hand like he held yours when your mother died.

"I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her."

His voice breaks and he reaches into his pocket for the scrap of paper he was looking at earlier. "I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment."

The quote comes back to you as he recites it, and your mind flashes back to those adolescent afternoons when you would watch him make a fool of himself trying to impress Haley at play practice. You can't help yourself as the tears finally fall, and you feel Spencer squeeze your hand tightly, acting as the lifeline you so earnestly need.

When he finishes his speech, everyone comes forward to place white roses on her casket before it is lowered into the ground. You wait as the crowd slowly dissipates, as everyone heads to the repast, and you hold Jess's hand while Aaron picks Jack up, holding him tightly.

"Blow Mommy a kiss," he whispers, before leaning over to let Jack place a rose on the casket.

His brow furrows as he straightens again, and you watch as the familiar stoicism returns to his posture. He isn't pushing all of his emotions down, exactly. He's just tucking them away, so as to be there for his son, who needs a solid figure in his life, now more than ever.

And that's what he'll be.

***

The repast is bustling with people from all eras of Haley's life, and you sit with the team at a large table, staring at your plate of food. When Dave pulls Aaron outside to talk, you watch them leave, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as he's forced to leave Jack with Jess again. She has been nothing but grateful to see her nephew more often than usual, but nonetheless, he wears his guilt like a jagged scar across his face.

Penelope clutches your hand under the table and you give her a weak nod, unable to do more with all of the energy drained from you.

"It was a beautiful service," Emily says, her eyes big and soft as they look at you.

You nod again, before turning back to your full plate. You can't bear the thought of stomaching any food right now.

Then just when you think the day can't get any worse, Derek and JJ's phones chirp with a message at the same time. No. No.

"They can't be calling us in," Emily sighs, her lips thinning, "not tonight."

JJ shakes her head. "I'm on it." She returns from her phone call a minute later with a forlorn look. "There's no other team available."

Derek gets up with a sigh. "I'll get Rossi."

When he returns with Dave, leaving Aaron alone on the deck, you squeeze Penelope's hand before walking outside. The air is cold, and you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you approach him.

"It's okay," he says before you can open your mouth. "I'll see you when you get back."

Mind reader, you think for a split second.

He has already given you the blessing you assumed you needed when you came out here, but it still doesn't feel right. "I don't want to go."

"It's your job," he shrugs. Like it's that simple. "It's okay."

"Are you sure?" You won't be able to do your job with him here, but even less so if you're feeling guilty the whole time. "I can take time off."

"No," he says quietly, shaking his head. He looks out into the night air, and you take his hand, squeezing it between both of yours. "It'll be good for me to have some time with Jack."

You can understand that. You pull him into a hug, before dipping your chin into a nod and leaving him out there again.

***

His return to work hasn't been easy. When Strauss gave him the option to retire with full pension and benefits, it should have been an easy decision, but something was tugging at his gut, telling him that would be the wrong choice.

Now he's sitting in his office, and all of his recent life choices are swirling around him like a hurricane ready to close in. He misses Jack like he's missing a limb, and he feels terrible for how often he's been relying on Jess to take care of him, even though she readily offered her help.

His emotions are a tumbling mess, and he doesn't notice that his fingers have been tapping the edge of his desk until you enter his office.

"Coffee?" He looks up with a nod, accepting the steaming cup you hand him, before you flop down on the couch across from him. "What are you thinking about?"

He swallows back a scalding gulp that likely scorched his throat on the way down. He wants to push his emotions down and say something quippy that won't distract you for more than a few moments, but tonight he needs reassurance more than he's willing to admit. "Did I come back too early?"

He expects an immediate and bombastic denial, but you just sit there, stirring your black coffee as you tuck your legs under you. "I can't decide that for you."

It's a diplomatic answer, but he needs guidance, and he doesn't have anyone else to go to. Not that he would go to anyone else even if he did. "Do you think I'm jeopardizing the team by being here?"

This time, the answer is immediate. "Of course not. You've been doing your job effectively, and no one can say otherwise."

He pauses for a moment, ruminating over your words. He knows he's not asking the right questions. He's just delaying until he has to accept what he's feeling.

With a shaky breath, he sets his coffee down and looks at you. "Am I jeopardizing my family by being here?"

Your brows pinch. "Jack will be okay. He's young, and he'll miss you, but you're his hero, Aaron. He loves you because you keep him safe."

"But I'm never home." His voice sounds ragged to his own ears, and he's certain you can hear the pain clawing out of his throat. "How am I doing my job as a father if I'm never there?"

"Aaron," you whisper, drawing his eyes back to yours. "You're keeping him safe by catching the bad guys. He knows that. And that's what he needs." You fix him with a look that makes his back straighten. "Okay?"

After a moment, he nods. "Okay."

***

"Hi, Hales."

You sink down onto the bench in front of her headstone, before pulling the baggie of peach rings you brought from your pocket. They were the only candy you liked from your high school's vending machine, and the two of you would share them between classes during your senior year.

"I should've come sooner, but work's been really busy."

You've only visited her once since the funeral six months ago, and you wish you could've come by more, but sometimes being here is just too much. It's too stark of a reminder that she's never coming back.

You pop another peach ring in your mouth, before breaking into a grin. "Jack's growing up so fast. He's so resilient, it's amazing." He has already adjusted to living in his father's apartment full time, and he seems to like hanging out with you or Jess whenever he's stuck at work late. "I wish you could be here to see it all."

You wish for a lot of things these days. The loss seems to keep piling up, and you don't know what to do or how to feel most of the time, but time keeps passing. And with it, so does the grief.

"Aaron's starting to get better too." You don't know what you believe, but a part of you suspects she knows all of this already. "The transition back was hard on all of us, but he doesn't look as defeated all the time anymore." Your lip twitches. "He even smiles at my jokes sometimes."

You swear you hear her laughter over the rustling of the wind, but it's probably just in your head. "Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. Let you know how much we miss you."

You stand up, grabbing the bouquet from next to you, and walk over to the headstone. Without thinking, you reach into your bag of candy and drop a peach ring into the dirt. It feels juvenile, even as you're doing it, but you can't help yourself. She would find it funny. You know she would.

You tuck the rest into your pocket and walk across the grass to another row of stones. It's not a quick stroll, but it gives you enough time to take a few deep breaths before you face him again.

Jeff Adler. The letters jump out at you like flashing lights, and you blink a few times as the magnitude of your loss washes over you. So many lives, so much love and warmth gone from your life.

Bending down, you place the bouquet of carnations in front of his headstone, before kissing your fingertips and pressing them to his name.

***

"You've got to be kidding."

He just shrugs, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. You make sure to keep your voice down as you toss your cards into the center pile and lean back against the bottom of his couch.

After putting Jack to bed, neither of you could think of anything quiet to do until Aaron pulled out a deck of cards from below the tv stand.

"I hate that you're so good at this," you grumble, watching as he deftly splits the deck and starts shuffling again. This being Go Fish.

"You're good, too," he concedes, flashing you an amused look that you don't share.

"Yeah, but you're better."

"As with most things."

You throw a card at him, but he dodges it easily. When he's finished shuffling, he deals out a card, before pausing. "We can play something else if you don't think you can beat me."

"Just deal the cards."

He lets out a low laugh and deals out another card, just as both of your cellphones chirp at the same time. You share a look before dropping the cards on the table. He stands first and gives you a hand up, which you accept.

"I'll call Jess," you whisper as he strides over to his bedroom to get his go-bag. You dial her quickly, and get the confirmation that she's coming over, before grabbing your own bag and heading out to his car.

***

"Sorry to ruin your night."

Everyone is in casual clothing when you walk into the briefing room with Aaron on your heels. JJ shoots you an apologetic look which quickly turns to surprise when Rossi walks in wearing a full tux.

"What, are you working on, wife number 4?" Derek laughs as he sets his bag down.

Dave just grumbles. "I see you people way too much."

"I hear that," you grin before taking your usual seat between Aaron and Spencer.

"Let's get started." JJ hands out the case files and clicks the screen on. "All right. Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There's 3 people dead in less than a week."

You scan the file as fast as you can, but Spencer beats you to it. "For a town with a population of 1,476, that's fairly significant."

JJ nods. "It's their first murder investigation on record."

"Who are the victims?" Dave asks, his eyes darting back and forth between the file and the screen.

JJ looks down at her notes. "Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days."

Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but Emily gives it a voice. "Any connections?"

"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected."

When JJ finishes up the briefing, Aaron stands up and grabs his bag. "We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us."

She shoots him a confused look. "Sir?"

"I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected."

"Yes, sir."

"This town's already on the brink," he continues with a sigh, "and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."

***

After barely getting any sleep on the plane ride over, and a long day in the cold, the team holes up in the lobby of a local inn, warming up around the fire.

"I'm gonna pull an all-nighter," Garcia announces when you stifle a yawn behind your fist. "I'll finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise."

"Good," Aaron nods, sitting up on the couch. "The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning."

At his suggestion, the innkeeper steps out from behind her desk. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."

"Uh, 4?" Spencer squeaks, his eyes darting around the room.

"Come on," the sheriff sighs as he stands up, "that's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department." He glances at Aaron and they share a nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

The sheriff walks out of the inn and you lean back on the couch, turning your head to the side to look at Aaron. The question in your eyes is implicit. What's the plan?

"It looks like we'll have to double up," Emily answers for you, her lips stretching into a grin.

Derek speaks up immediately. "I'm not sleeping with Reid."

Penelope reaches over and grabs Derek's arm. "Dibs."

Emily and JJ stand together and head upstairs, and you glance at Aaron with a nod. "Let's find one of the double rooms before Emily snags it."

"Guess it's you and me, kid," Dave says to Spencer as you grab a key from the front desk and pick up your bag. The inn is so small that all of your rooms end up being in the same hallway. You leave the door open behind you as you step inside and toss your bag onto the nearest bed.

Aaron enters after you and locks the door, before wordlessly moving your bag to the other bed, away from the door. It takes you less than a second to realize why. His protective nature was always strong, but over the past year, it has kicked into overdrive, especially around you and Jack.

"Do you want first shower?" you ask as you unzip your bag and pull out a tee shirt and some sleep shorts.

"You take it," he says, shaking his head. The chilliness of the outside air hasn't left your bones, so you don't wait for him to change his mind before grabbing your toiletries and rushing into the bathroom.

While you're in the shower, Aaron takes his time fluffing out the comforter and pillows on his bed. The room itself isn't very spacious, but he doesn't mind sharing with you. The close quarters remind him of his youth when he would sneak into your room late at night to get away from his family. Just the sight of the lights through your bedroom window used to bring him peace. When he glances over at your side of the room, a tranquility washes over him, and he realizes that the feeling hasn't really gone away.

"Your turn," you say a little later when you emerge from the bathroom. Your skin is still slightly damp, and your cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, and he has to tear his eyes away as he nods and steps around you.

The tiny mirror in the bathroom is still steamy when he shuts the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, and he lifts his hand to wipe it off, before pausing. His scars aren't something he likes to think about often, but after saving Jack, they took on a different image in his mind. He felt less like a victim.

He rubs his hand against the mirror to wipe off some of the condensation, and his reflection looks tense as it stares back at him. Back in the room, your presence felt warm and comfortable, but in here, with the steam fogging up the glass, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, something else roils in his gut.

It's a not-so-unfamiliar feeling that used to be commonplace when he was younger. It hadn't reared its head in years, but lately, it's been so much harder to push it down. When he sees how much his son loves you, how much he looks forward to finding you in his apartment when he gets back from a late meeting. It's been...hard.

He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water wash away the notions tickling the edge of his brain. When he walks back into the room, you are tucked into your bed, the covers up to your chin.

"You look like a burrito," he notes with a small laugh.

You shrug, though it's barely visible from under the comforter. "I find this is the best way to keep out the Arctic chill that seems to have invaded our lodgings."

"Fair enough."

He slides into his own bed and clicks the switch on the wall to turn the lights off. He tries to sleep for a few minutes, but even though he's exhausted, it won't come.

It's dark enough that he can't see his fingers in front of his face, but the uneven sounds of your breathing let him know that you're still awake.

"You should really sleep," he whispers into the darkness.

"You first," you say after a moment, before your voice lowers. "How are you doing? How are you holding up, I mean."

"How are you doing?" he asks, knowing he's being unfair.

You don't let it slide this time. "You're deflecting."

"I know."

There's a pause before he finally concedes. "I think I'm okay. The normalcy is coming back, and Jack is doing a lot better, which helps immensely."

"Me too," you say after a beat.

He wants to let the subject go and try to sleep, but the words are pulling at his throat. "I miss her all the time."

"Me too," you repeat. You huff out a husky laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "God, me too."

There's a tinge of bitterness in your voice that he recognizes in himself, but it's not something he knows if he can explain. He remembers how a small part of you blamed Jeff after his death, but that's nothing like what he's feeling. He blames himself for everything but the act itself, knowing that if he had just gotten there quicker, or taken the deal, or taken the transfer-

His breath catches and he hears you rustle under your covers. He imagines you turning to face him, and as his eyes slowly adjust he sees that he was right.

"Do you remember that time in high school," he says suddenly, not entirely sure where he's going with this, "when I got detention."

"I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

He laughs, in spite of himself, and turns over to face you as well. You're so far away, but he can just barely make out your face from across the room. "When you broke me out."

Your laughter is sudden and it echoes around the small room as the memory hits you. "I do remember that. I told them your grandfather was in the hospital so that they would let you out. God, Mrs. Parker was so upset when she went to get you."

"I think my favorite part of the story was that both of my grandfathers died before I could walk."

You chuckle, your voice softer now. "I know."

His chest warms at the memory of the two of you running out to your car and driving to get a scoop of chocolate at your favorite ice cream shop. Even afterwards, you had driven around town for hours, without a complaint, and he hadn't mentioned the time once. It was so soon after his dad's death, and he hated going home for so many reasons. Sean hated him, and his mother was sad all of the time, and it was like you just knew.

"You were good at reading me," he whispers, almost to himself.

"Were good?" you ask with mock offense.

He snorts. "Fine, are good at reading me."

"That's more like it."

***

You drop your empty glass back on the table, feeling the burn of the liquor as you swallow it down. It's your second drink of the night, and while you usually don't indulge in more than one, you welcome the chance to let loose.

Everyone else seems to be in the same mindset, because JJ, Emily, and Penelope are in various states of drunkenness around the booth, and the men are either nursing a drink or driving.

"Let's dance," JJ shrieks, lifting her head off of Will's shoulder and pushing herself up from the booth.

"Hell yeah," Emily grins, pulling you and Penelope up with her.

JJ tries to corral the guys to join, but they all stay firmly seated. Dave and Will look content as they sip their whiskey, and Spencer doesn't budge, citing his leg hurting (a lie). After a bit of targeted shoving, Derek chuckles and gets up for one dance, following Penelope and JJ onto the dance floor.

"Aaaaaron," you slur, tugging his arm. He doesn't move even an inch, but the corner of his lip twitches when you don't give up.

"You used to dance in college," you point out with a frown.

Emily hoots as she saunters over to the floor. "This I need to see."

Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, and you eventually oblige, joining the ladies (and Derek) for a few dances. The dark atmosphere of the club has you feeling looser than you have in a long time, and after the next song, you join Dave over at the bar to get another drink.

You down half of it before you leave the counter, and by this point, JJ has coaxed Will out of his seat, while Spencer rushes off to find the bathroom. The tiredness hits you as soon as you finish the drink, and when you spot Aaron by himself at the booth, you glide back to keep him company.

He doesn't notice you at first as you walk over to him, and you can't help but register that he looks good in his undone button-down. You take another step forward and a thin glint of metal around his neck becomes visible. A jolt of heat shoots down your body and you set your glass down on a nearby table without looking as you approach him.

When you reach the edge of the bench, someone walking by bumps into you and you stumble forward. Aaron grabs onto you as you fall forward, and you end up crushed in his arms, your face just inches from his. Your thoughts cut out and you don't make a sound, your breaths coming out in quick spurts.

Neither one of you moves as you look at each other, so so close, so much closer than you've ever been, than you've ever gotten to be. The faintest impression of a thought - the thought - crosses the deepest edges of your mind as you lean in infinitesimally. He doesn't notice, and you barely register it either, but you can't help but notice how easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him.

Kiss him?

Your brain short-circuits and you just barely manage to keep your eyes from widening. You have no idea where that came from, but then again, if you are honest with yourself, it has always been there, buried deep down beneath years of friendship and history.

The question invades your brain again, and this time, you're unable to stop it. What would it be like to kiss him?

You can't keep your breath from catching, and he pulls back immediately, tugging you to the side and depositing you on the booth beside him.

Your mouth falls open as you try to meet his eye. "Aaron-"

His head turns and he stands up, his eyes dark under the soft lighting. "I'm sorry."

Before you can get another word out, he's gone.

TAGLIST: @citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @sanayikes, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys (message me to be added!)

[goldsainz]

GUESS WHO’S BACK? — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: first of i wanna say that this is not meant to diminish the treatment nyck got bc it is undoubtedly shitty (helmut marko you will pay for your crimes), i am just happy one of my fav drivers is back. this is eminem!daughter!reader an idea @lorarri let me use, all the lyrics and song she came up with are fantastic, i couldn’t have made this without them, so thank you lola!!!!

liked by danielricciardo, eminem and 3,082,719 others

yourusername i am so excited to announce my newest album “BADGER BEWARE”!! this project has been in the making for quite some time, it has the help of people i am very close with. and inspirations behind a lot of impacting moments in my life. which is why i am so happy that it is finally here and you can all enjoy it july 13th

view all 46,251 comments

ynfan1 oh this is so about daniel

ynfan2 NEW MUSIC FINALLY😭😭

danielricciardo 💛💛💛

liked by yourusername and 96,053 others

⤷ danielfan1 acting as if the album isn’t gonna be dedicated to him

icespice gonna be bomb 🔥

scottyjames31 Claiming track 3 right now

⤷ danielricciardo No, it’s already claimed. Pick another.

ynfan3 july 13th cannot come any sooner

danielfan2 i hope y/n knows that she just sent me into cardiac arrest

danielfan3 MONZA MASH??? YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE MADE A SONG FOR HIS WIN IN MONZA

ynfan4 thank you eminem for the blessing that is y/n🙏

liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 3,950,416 others

yourusername “BADGER BEWARE” is out now in all streaming platforms! i wanna take a moment to thank all the people who made this album possible, to the man who inspired this project and sat with me until sunrise writing down lyrics, to my friends who participated and helped me push through, but especially to all my fans who waited patiently for me to release my music in my own time. have fun and pls don’t take what i talk about too seriously (or do 😉)

view all 59,246 comments

danielricciardo I would sit until sunrise every day with you

⤷ yourusername love the sentiment but you were asleep 90% of the time

⤷ danielricciardo But I was still there!

ynfan21 RED WINGS IS WILD

ynfan22 album of the year!!!

danielfan21 oh so this is a diss track to mclaren…

redbullracing Our playlist has been updated!

liked by yourusername and 107,368 others

ynfan23 when we needed her most she appeared🙏

ynfan24 damn she did not hold back

danielfan22 DANIEL AND Y/N BEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

“Show-stopping” is the expression Y/N wants to convey each time she sits down and starts to write her songs. It is a “big word”, as she puts it, but there is no other word that would fit the feeling she hopes to transmit through her music.

“I started writing “BADGER BEWARE” back in 2021, I think around august, and by the end of that year I had written 3 songs. I stopped writing because I thought of either scrapping the whole project or making a 4-5 song EP. Obviously that didn’t end up happening because now there are 10 songs, 1 intro and 1 outro. All those songs hold a different place in my heart and while they all form part of the genre of Rap, they’re heartfelt in their own special way.”

Rap is a genre Y/N is all too familiar with. With her father being Eminem, an icon to the genre and the 2000s — even now. She says that the choice is not arbitrary, that there is an influence she cannot deny, but chooses to embrace it rather than push it away.

She dedicated the album to her boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel Ricciardo, who was the initial inspiration behind it. “Danny listened to me rant about my ideas for hours, sat in different studios with me and suggested different things that made the whole experience different than anything I’d ever done before. He also introduced me to — now one of my good friends — Charles Leclerc, who plays piano and is the one that composed the music for both the intro and outro.”

When asked about her favourite songs she picked a couple because “there is no way I could choose just one”. There is an evident passion to her craft when it comes to Y/N, something not everyone in her field possesses quite as well as she does.

“HONEY, RED WINGS and SUMMER SMILE are probably my top 3. They were all written at such drastically different points of my life, about things that have practically nothing to do with each other but that are tied by a little string. Some people think I pick my singles because they’re my favourite, which is true because all my songs are my favourites! But most of all I pick them because they’re the ones that I felt most comfortable publicising, all the other songs in the album are like a little secret between my fandom and me.

“There are also songs which are more personal. MONZA MASH, for example, it’s a very hyper song but it still is about an event that was very emotional. TEARS OF THE SUN, is also an obvious one. My songs are about something, and if it makes you feel anything at all then I did my job right.”

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!

liked by tayrussell, saweetie and 2,785,046 others

yourusername 2 THE MAX MV IS HERE!! i heard it was a fan favourite and had to deliver… there is no way to express my gratitude to you all for the support the album has gotten, so i guess this is my way!

view all 41,775 comments

ynfan31 MY FAV SONG YES

⤷ danielfan31 “i turn up the heat to the max and watch them bitches squirm” ATE THAT SHIT UPPP

ynfan32 y/n mathers?? MORE LIKE Y/N MOTHER

danielricciardo She’s wearing red, next question!

⤷ yourusername LMAO??

⤷ maxverstappen1 Let him be, he’s a bit jet-lagged

ynfan33 literally fell down the stairs bc of this announcement

danielfan32 forget daniel… I WANT HER

ynfan34 as a y/n fan i am more than amazed at the amount of content we’re getting😭

ynfan35 it suddenly got real hot

⤷ ynfan36 we call that “the y/n effect”

ynfan37 LITERALLY RUN ME OVER!!!!!!

[enchantedflameandflower]

Update! Billy Butcher fic! A little angst and drama with a lot of The Boys and a bit of their comedic shenanigans!

karl urban masterlist

taglist: @2dead2function @nosebeers @vavafaure1994 @weallhaveadestiny @str8-jack-it

@jynx15 @hippo2211 @bvd13 @butchersdarkbird - finally, finally I have this chapter out! @butchersdarkbird I so so so hope you enjoy it, I know you've waited so long and it means so much to me!

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

This takes place a month after last ep of Season 3! I really really hope you enjoy! The chapter was getting crazy out of hand and starting to overwhelm and paralyze me, so I split it in two. SO this means the next part is already 90% written and will be much quicker! Thank you so so much to everyone reading! Also next part of my Gavin x reader fic will be out in a few days!

direct link to part 1

part 38

Glimmer Part 39

One month later.

The last rays of summer sunshine that could make it over the New York City skyline shone orange through the big windows of the top floor of the Flat Iron Building. In a few minutes they would be gone, hidden behind the tall buildings of the city as the sun made its decent. 

Addison sat with M.M. at his desk going over the stack of files of information she’d collected, analyzed and compiled on a handful of B level supes across the eastern seaboard. She had been supposed to meet with him that morning, but had spent the majority of it too nauseous to even move out of bed, much to her annoyance at the cliche, but her first trimester was nearly over, and it couldn’t come soon enough for her.

And of course they were bent together over a pile of papers of a supe Addison had been tracking upstate when Billy walked in, hanging up his coat on the rack by the door. “Well, don’t you two look cozy there, all huddled over your supe files together.” Billy waltzed past the desk, heading for the coffee pot. 

“Where’ve you been, Butcher?” M.M. asked. 

“Didn’t kill anyone, so don’t worry your pretty little head none. Just tailin’ a low level.”

M.M. and Addison continued to work while Billy made coffee then poured himself a mug and went to his desk. She knew it was always better to just not engage when he wanted to argue about her work, especially with M.M..

When they found a break, M.M. stood up and went over to the coffee pot but grumbled lifting it up to show there was barely any left. “You can’t just make enough for all of us?” he asked, frowning at Butcher. 

Addison and Billy exchanged a look. 

“I ain’t your bleedin’ secretary.” Butcher snarked, looking back to his own work. 

M.M. rolled his eyes, reaching for the bag to make some more. “Addison?” he asked over his shoulder as he picked up the coffee pot. 

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

M.M. turned to face her. “I’ve never once heard you turn down a cup of joe, Addi.”

She shrugged, shifting to look through her files. “It’s getting late,” she said off handedly. Luckily she was saved from having to say more by Frenchie and Kimiko coming in. 

Addison shuffled the files back together, bundling them in order for M.M. to take. “Just call if you have any questions.”

“You know we could really use you on the team -” M.M. said but Addison was already shaking her head before he could say more. 

“Uh-uh,” she said. “I don’t do team ups. And I’m not getting involved...in this,” she waved her hand around the room, somehow managing not to gesture at any one person in particular. “I’m really good at this stuff,” she tapped her fingers on the folders. “And I’m not working in the field. My body count is fine where it’s at.”

Her tone left no room for argument, and she was grateful M.M. accepted it for now. She finished up and went to sit on the edge of Butcher’s desk. He was standing in front of it, drinking his coffee and reading through a report he had in hand. 

“Take me to dinner?” she murmured, quiet enough the others couldn’t easily listen in. 

“It’s hardly 5,” he answered, flipping his papers over to look at his watch, then looking at her. 

“Yeah. Dinnertime,” she grinned. “What this isn’t a 9 - 5 job?” she teased him. 

Billy snorted. “Weren’t you textin’ me you were havin’ lunch just a coupla hours ago?”

“Soooo?”

“Well I’ll have to ask the boss ya know,” he set down his report on his desk behind her, leaning close and letting his hand brush across her hip. “I swear though I could feed you a horse these days and you’d still be hungry…” he teased.

But Addison barely heard the last of his sentence because M.M. had suddenly appeared behind Billy and had clearly heard the last of his words and she watched his face - she could literally see it in his eyes as he started to put the pieces together in his mind…

“Addison.”

She froze. No. Fucking. Way. She wasn’t ready, this wasn’t happening here, in front of everyone, she was not doing this…

“Tell me you did not,” M.M. groaned out loud, finally making Billy turn around and lift one brow.

Addison pursed her lips, subconsciously tugging her jacket closed around her.

“Oi, oi! Great, the whole gangs here,” Butcher grinned as Hughie came in, trying to change the subject but it didn’t work with any of them.

Hughie paused as he reached his own desk setting his stuff down, looking between Addi, M.M. and Butcher. Frenchie and Kimiko were off to the side watching cautiously. 

“Did not what?”

Everyone ignored him.  

“Tell me -” M.M. continued, in his most stern dad voice. “You two morons. Did not do - what I think you did.”

“Excuse me,” Addison huffed, furrowing her brows at M.M.. 

“Whoaaa,” Hughie spoke up walking over to them, confusion and shock in his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked M.M.. “What do you think they did?” Hughie turned to Butcher. “What did you do?”

“Nothin’ you haven’t done,” Butcher grinned wolfishly clapping him on the shoulder. 

They all seemed to turn to look at Addison at once and she groaned out loud. “Ugghhhh… fucking fuck…..”

“What is happening?!” Hughie flailed. 

Addison crossed her arms but Kimiko was smiling and Frenchie looked like he was about to burst. 

“Frenchie do not-“ Addison pointed at him, her eyes wide.

“We are having a baby!” Frenchie shouted. 

MM pushed his rolling chair into his desk, turning as if he needed to compose himself while Hughie stood in confusion looking between all of them. 

“Hey!” Annie came in the door then, pausing as she immediately picked up the tension. “What happened?” Her smile dropped from her face. 

“Who’s having a baby - ” Hughie started, more confused then ever then as looked at Frenchie then finally turned back to Butcher, then Addison, then back to Butcher again. “Holy fuck…”

“A baby?” Annie asked, clearly taken off guard and upset. The whole thing was like a fucking cirucs act and Addison was quickly losing any shreds of patience she had left.

“Addison and B -“ Hughie started to say then sort of seemed to just freeze before he shook himself out of it. “Congratulations, you two,” he recovered before he stopped again, looking between the two of them. “I mean…right? You want…”

“Yes, Hughie,” Addison interrupted him before he confused his own brain even more. “The baby is very much wanted. Thank you,” she gave him a soft smile but it quickly fell. 

“Addison we need to talk,” M.M. spoke up again pointedly. 

Addison rolled her eyes but her patience was no competition to Billy’s temper, and he had clearly already lost it with all of them.

“Good,” Butcher glared at M.M.. “You take her to dinner then.” He slammed his coffee cup down on his desk then turned to Addison, sliding his strong arm around her waist and tugging her against his body, obviously staking his claim on her and the whole situation before he left. His mouth met hers in a hot, steamy kiss and she had to curl her fingers into his shirt to keep from fainting away as his tongue flicked over hers. He broke the kiss almost as suddenly, squeezing her ass affectionately, then turned for the door, and reaching to grab his coat on the way out.

“I’m calling you tonight,” Addison yelled after him as soon as she caught her breath. “You better fucking answer!” But she knew he’d more than likely be sliding into her bed before the night grew too late.

Butcher waved his hand in the air and Hughie finally seemed to snap out of it as he breezed past. “Wait, Butcher!” He stood up to take off after him but paused and turned back to Annie. “I’m fine,” she said but Addison could tell she was annoyed. And then Hughie was chasing Butcher out the door. 

Addison decided she couldn’t deal with Annie right now and anyway M.M.’s intense stare was not leaving her space to worry about anyone else. 

“You’re not my father, for fucks sake,” she snapped, exasperated by they whirlwind of events, even though her lips were still tingling from Butcher’s fierce kiss. “I slept with Billy. We fucked up. I want this baby - more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Annie turned around then and left too, the door closing hard behind her and Addison slumped, dropping her head in her hands. Annie was her friend. She knew how much she hated Billy and honestly she mostly understood. She only wished she could’ve explained first before the news broke like this.

But at least Frenchie and Kimiko seemed to be on her side. “She is happy,” Frenchie spoke up and Addison lifted her head to give him a grateful look. “Surely that is what matters, no?”

M.M. finally seemed to soften a little. “Yeah, fine,” he agreed. “But I still want to talk.”

Frenchie nodded in concession and squeezed Addison’s shoulder reassuringly before heading back over to sit with Kimiko. 

“Let’s go,” M.M. nodded toward the door. “Monique always loved those double chocolate brownie shakes when she was pregnant with Janine. My treat.”

~*~*~

“I know what I’m doing,” Addison said quietly. “Billy and I have talked about it. At length. The baby comes first no matter what. I can do this on my own if I have to. And I can protect - the baby…if I have to. Even against him,” she added.

M.M. glanced up at Addison, with a raised eyebrow, but shook his head while he arranged his napkin and his burger on his tray. “You won’t have to. He loves you. And he might be a gigantic asshole. But he’s an asshole with a heart. He’d take himself out before he let himself hurt you.”

Addison used her spoon to take a big mouthful of her chocolate shake and hummed gratefully while M.M. gave an affectionate smirk. 

“Told ya,” he said. 

Addison smiled, remembering that conversation they’d had so long ago at that little diner on the road. It seemed like a life time ago now. 

“Remember when you asked me if I ever thought about having kids? I lied a little.”

M.M. glanced up at her studying her for a moment. 

“I really, really want this,” she continued. “And if I have to, I can handle it on my own.”

Finally M.M. nodded. She knew this wasn’t going to placate him entirely, but it was enough for now.

“Thank you,” she murmured, in between bites.

“For what.”

Addison shrugged. “For everything. For being a friend.”

“You know I’m just looking out for you, right? I’ve got you, Addison.”

And she knew he did, she just didn't know how much she would need it in the months to come.

~*~*~

Notes: I want everyone to know, no matter what happens in the show this WILL have a happy ending (but of course with tons of h/c, drama and angst along the way.) But I only do ultimately happy endings. Next up: Addison's conversation with Annie does not go as well and Billy and Addi have a heart to heart over the start of that baby bump ♥ Let me know what you think!

Karl Urban Masterlist

[autismprotocol]

TMAG Theory Board Update (EP 11-12)

Hi guys sorry about the late posting I've just started a new quarter of college and its been pretty hectic. also got into my school design BFA program so pretty stoked about that! Anyways lets get into the Episode Breakdowns because even though not a lot of lore related things happened I still have a lot to talk about

For the breakdown I'll separate each by episode in sequential order

What Happened in Episode 11: Marked

Celias Rude Awakening- we jump right into the weirdness straight away with Celia waking up on the side of the interstate. she indicates that this is not a weird occurrence and ends the scene by telling someone named Jack that she's "on her way." If you remember episode 8 after Celia and Sam talk to Gerry and Gertrude, she mentions stuff about wanting help with her own mystery. When Sam asks about it she says she's looking into Time travel, other dimentions and teleportation. Many people have theorized that maybe Celia is just a super heavy sleepwalker, but I think the she teleports random places out of nowhere. This could be a side effect of her reality hopping if this Celia is originally from The archives universe.

As for the identity of Jack I'm not quite sure about that yet. I cross referenced the name Jack with past episodes of TMA. The only thing that came up was Jack Barnabas from the statement about dating Agnes Montague (aka an avatar of the desolation and Jesus-like figure for the cult of the lightless flame) So Unless Celia is secretly Agnes of Agnes reincarnated , I can't find any way to link Barnabas to Celia. (if anyone has a theory feel free to send it my way.)

Sam Lore- this one is pretty minor story-wise but I thought it was interesting. Before the statement for the episode is presented we get some classic Sam and Alice Banter ™ most of it is pretty lighthearted but I noticed Sam mention something that could indicate he might be an amputee.

These could not mean anything and I find it weird that it hasn't been mentioned until now but thought it was kind of cool and I will probably be drawing sam with a prothetic leg in the future cause I really like this head-canon. It also begs to question if he is missing a leg. it might have anything to do with his past as a Magnus institute test subject but then again could just be a fun character detail added by Jonny and/or Alex .

The Statement- Getting into the statement we get another Ink5oul appearance. Also possible Ink5oul identifying as she/they. (and lets be honest being a fear avatar is pretty non binary core). I found this Episode gave me a feeling of a hybrid between the Vast, Buried and the Flesh some people are theorizing that is might be a new entity called the Deep but I think that the fear of the ocean could easily apply to the vast or buried. Not much to say about this story though pretty standard Magnus horror that also gave us a hint to what Ink5oul's goal could be/which entity they serve.

Post Bonzo- Gwen has a debrief with Lena after her first Externals Liason assignment and her meeting with Mr. Bonzo. Undoubtedly Gwen is still pretty shaken from her encounter, even arriving late to work due to sleeplessness. Gwen is able to ask Lena a few questions mainly she wanted to know who's name was written on the letter given to Bonzo

Lena is largely unhelpful but tells Gwen she should have worked it out by now and if not to pay close attention to the case load for the next couple of days. before the latest episode my guess was Klaus because that is the only person mentioned so far that the OIAR intends to kill. but more on that later

Marked- Now were getting to my favorite thing about this episode. This episode title can have two meanings. The first is the more literal interpretation. Tattoos are marking of the body and the case this episode was all about tattoos so easily a good name would be marked. But I believe this is a red herring meant to misguide listeners who have not consumed all 200 episodes of TMA because if you know the world of Magnus Archives the term Marked takes on a entirely different meaning.

In TMA the term marked is used to indicate that somebody has been influenced by one or more or the fears and are one their way to becoming an Avatar. I think this could be a coded way to tell the audience someone in the OIAR has been marked. I have two potential candidates

Alice Dyer- Alice has been having dreams about the Institute after her and Sam's adventure into the ruins. also she mentions feeling like someone's watching her (common to people influenced or fed upon by the Ceaseless Watcher/The Eye) My guess if she is marked it would be by the Eye.

Gwendolyn Bouchard: Probably the most likely culprit. The main way an entitly tends to mark people is through encounters with other avatars. Gwen has just had an encounter with Mr Bonzo last episode who I strongly believe must be an avatar of some sort.

What Happened in Episode 12: Getting Off

Aww Sam!!- Sam asked Celia out and it was adorably awkward. not much to say I just loved this interaction and I'm longing for a new Magnus brand office romance hopefully is wont be an agonizing slowburn that ends tragically like a certain pair of morons from Archives (I love you Jon and Martin but Jesus christ)

It's Bonzo time bitches!!- Probably one of the most gruesome Magnus statement I've ever listened to (good work Alex) Mr Bonzo completely annihilated some poor dude at his bachelor party. Based on the date of the Incident the I can confidently say that whoever Baz (the groom) was he was our mystery person the OIAR sent Mr Bonzo to get rid of. Along with some of the bloodiest imagery we learned a few things about Bonzo. The most interesting detail is that Bonzo has to be summoned by playing his theme song I think the CD of his theme song acts somewhat like the tapes did in TMA by materialising out of nowhere. Also fun fact you know that torn seam that is right down Bonzo's middle? that is actually is his mouth lined with rows sharp teeth so I guess I know that now (so fun) Moral of the story dont f*ck with Mr. Bonzo

Alice knows something: Theres been this recurring audio glitch throughout TMAGP thatnks to a few extremly observent fans we have started to relize that these glitches are not at all random and are actually letting the audience know when a character is lying (i actually reposted somones deepdive into all the istances of this glitch so far if you guys are intrested in knowing more) why i bring this up now is becuase since we know when any charater is lying we also know when they are being truthful if there is no glitch when they say somthing and at the end of this episode this interaction occurs

Alice goes ahead and makes a joke about this to annoy Gwen but the fact theres no audio glitch when she says "I know" means she does actually know who is behind the OIAR and is activly refusing to share it with Gwen or the others. What do you know Alice!?

and that's about it im already loving these next batch of episodes and am so excited to learn more (ERROR has to show up somtime )

thanks to everyone who resonded the poll on the last update I will continue to include drawings into the breakdown even if it takes me a little bit of time to post. anyways I wrote this all in one sitting and I'm about ready to pass out so thanks again and the ask box and comments are always open for discussion and theory crafting.

-Echo

[vimbry]

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

[t4kalcvr]

VAMOS A BAILAR — k. tsukishima smau

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ S1, EP 5 . me vuelves loco

featured song : Loco by Enrique Iglesias, Romeo Santos

You weren’t exactly expecting to interact with this “tsukishima kei” at the party despite knowing he was invited by your brother.

So, it was even less expectant for you to be dragging him on the dance floor.

Your usual dance partner would be suna because he can actually move his hips swiftly enough to go with your movements.

And since tsukishima had been insulting your culture and interests, you decided to show him the goods about it.

and that’s why you’re here.

All he kept saying was “that’s stupid, whats the difference between pollo and asada?” or “why would you run around a field, and just kick a ball?” and the final straw, “dancing is just moving your feet, why so many names?”

thats why you’re hands are being intertwined with tsukishimas, as one of your favorite songs is playing too, Loco by Enrique Iglesias and Romeo Santos.

you’re pulling your bodies closer, placing his right hand on your hip, and your left hand around his neck.

you begin to sway your hips to the rhythm, “now find the rhythm,” you instruct as you feel him adjusting to this new intimacy.

“like this?” he mumbles, you started laughing, “squat a little less and please loosen up,” you advise.

tsukishima does as you instruct, “better,” you compliment as you began dancing. his lithe figure made it easier and it was a nice change from suna, he always takes too big of steps, you thought.

“so how is it from just dancing?” you inquire as your head rests on his chest.

“depends, what dance style is this?” he whispers.

“bachata,” you reply.

“then, i guess it is different.” he rolls his eyes, and tightens his grip on your waist as he hugs you just a tiny bit closer.

previous episode ‧₊* ‧₊ masterlist ⋆·˚ ༘ next episode

CREDITS —

translations 🪇 : me vuelves loco =you drive me crazy

bachata : bachata is a style of dance that originated in the dominican republic. It is danced widely all over the world but not identically. The basics to the dance are three-step with a cuban hip motion, followed by a hip tap on the 4th beat just like in other latin dances.

🗒️ : im probably gonna be out and about by the time this is posted so i probably won’t update all the links but anyways I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THE SONG IF YOU LISTEN IT!! this episode made me miss parties so much 😩😩😩

🏷️ : @mjustag1rl @ast4rg1rl @empress-pug-pug @softpia @yuminako @kagtobis @tsukistopglazer @yessimo @spicana @juie13 @whosmarjj @spicyhyunn @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @gravetomb @wearecooler @punkhazardlaw @theycallmenanamisgirl @mimisweetz @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @jojo23allegra @rory-cakes

[ofmdrecaps]

11/07-08/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi/Minnie Driver; Samba Schutte; Kristian Nairn; Vico Ortiz; Guz Khan; Damien Gerard; WB News; Petition Update; Revenge Raffle; Articles; Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine Updates; Fan Spotlight: A Muse Of Fyre's Calendar Kickstarter; Love Notes;

Hey all, as you can see I'm late again. I took some advice and spent a lot of hours over the last few days doing some creative projects and spending time with friends and my son. Hoping to be caught up soon. Lots happened over the last few days so things are being spread across this and the next issue. Hope you're all staying safe and sane out there <3

== David Jenkins ==

Sounds like Chaos Dad is making the jump from Twitter elsewhere! You can now follow him if you haven't already on:

Threads

Bluesky!

== Rhys Darby ==

Okay but for real, Tumblr, for the love of all things cheese, please let me be able to upload more than one video on a post! Rhys was out in Indianapolis Indiana for his Comedy show! Thank you to our dear crewmate @sherlockig for posting these on tumblr!

So someone sent me this pic which is obviously cropped--- so if this is your photo please let me know I'd love to credit you! I couldn't find it or I'd have asked personally!

New Cryptid Factor Episode! More Footage from Lochness!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Patreon

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika has been busy with Rita being a complete gorgeous goofball as usual.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝙇𝙖 𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙚 (@lamodemag)

Source: LA Mode Magazine

Taika has also really just been EVERYWHERE the last few days and so there's videos of him all over the place.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Steve Hargrave (@mrstevehargrave)

Source: Instagram

Source: KokoCamden Instagram

Taika and Minnie channeling Ed and Anne Bonny Chaos Vibes out at the KOKO Foundation charity event!

Source: Minnie Driver's Instagram

This last one, Minnie described as a "Hot Sandwich" .

Source: Minnie's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

This is a little late since this was from before the class, but Samba was such a sweetie and shared some love for his upcoming baking class and a script from S2 Ep 8!

Source: Samba's Twitter

== Kristian Nairn ==

New Episode of Spektrum is out!

Source: Kristian's Instagram Stories

== Guz Khan ==

Guz is going to be in Dubai Jan 20th! Ticket Info here!

Source: Guz's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico has blessed their Patreon followers with more S2 BTS! If you're a follower check them out below!

BTS 1 - Selection of pictures

BTS 2 - Super quick video of Sampson and Con

Source: Vico's Patreon

== Damien Gerard ==

If you have a moment, please send our Father Teach, Damien some good vibes and love. He's got some stuff going on and he could use some extra love!

Source: Damien Gerard's Bsky

== WB News ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew are keeping us up to date on these articles that keep coming out about WBD!

Source: AdoptOurCrew twitter

In addition, our spectacular crewmate Ashley, aka a Seven_Sugars on Twitter and Bluesky gave us a whole lot of info regarding the WBD Q3 Earnings Report!

Source: Seven_Sugars Twitter/Bluesky

== 90K on the Petition ==

Hey all! Great job! We finally hit 90K on the petition! If you're new to the fandom and havent signed yet, please do so here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Tumblr

== Revenge Raffle ==

One of our ever present, extremely kind crewmates, Irene Adler was kind enough to set up a new raffle, she's made several lockets out of the glass from the actual Revenge ship, and she's going to be raffling them as well as some other goodies off to support LGBTQIA+ folks in the US! You can follow along for new via instagram with the #revengeraffle hashtag. Have something you wanna donate or enter? Send her a DM! The Raffle will be going live in late Nov/Early December!

Source: Irene Adler's Instagram / Threads

== Articles ==

More articles featuring OFMD! Thank you again for sharing these @adoptourcrew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine Updates==

Over $1000 has been raised for charity with the Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine! Great job everyone! If you haven't gotten one yet and would like to, you can visit @stedebonnetzine or their carrd for more info!

Source: Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= A Muse Of Fyre Calendar! =

It's that time of year for 2025 Calendars! Our dear crewmate @amuseoffyre has a Kickstarter up for a calendar with their fabulous Muppets! Check it out here!

Source: A Muse Of Fyre Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. I really hope you're hanging in there. It's been a heck of a week. I've been distracting myself with art and listening to audio books, and watching film, and I have to say, disengaging a bit has been really helpful for my mental health. One of the biggest things I continue to hear from so many different supportive groups out there is that community is such a huge part of getting through the collective grief and trauma we're all experiencing right now. Please if you can, take some time and go meet up with friends. Get a hug, give a hug, if you don't hug, just a smile and be with some of your fellow people in the community. We need each other more than ever at the moment, and it's amazing how humanizing even basic human connection can be, Please be safe, please spend some time being creative, please go out and get some time with your community, someone you feel safe with. If you can't get out, try a video call, or just lean on your crew online, whatever it is you feel comfortable and safest with. I'm thinking and rooting for you every day. I'm hoping over the coming days I'll be in a better headspace to try and be around more. Sending love <3 Rest up lovelies.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Dani DiPirro (@positivelypresent)

Source: Positively Present Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jess Phoenix (@jessraephoenix)

Source: JessRaePhoenix Instagram

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : IX]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, dubcon, drugged, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : 'The Jessica Crime'  named after Paul Atreides' mother, instructs the Bene Gesserit to 'never fall in love and always prioritize humanity over personal feelings.' Your love for Qimir is no different from Lady Jessica's love for Duke Leto—a love that will lead to great losses. You come to realize this truth as you uncover his hidden secrets and true identity.

Status: just finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : Great news! I just wrapped up this fic, and it’ll be finished in Episode 14. I’ll need a bit of time to proofread it, but I’ll do my best to post updates frequently so you won't have to wait too long!

Also, I want you to listen to this song while reading this episode. It fits perfectly with the moment: Ciara - Paint It, Black.

Ps.If you enjoy my work, please reblog it. Just liking the post won’t help others discover it.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

[Episodes 9] The Jessica Crime

"You’ve been acting strangely since you woke up. What happened to you?" 

Qimir's voice echoes faintly from outside your consciousness. You can’t even tell from which point in time it’s coming—past, present, or maybe it’s all just a future that hasn't happened yet.

Loss of temporal footing.  Another voice fills your head, but this time it is the voice within your mind. The brief explanation brings you instant clarity. This is one of the symptoms experienced by those gifted with the ability to perceive across the dimensions of time. The flood of vast information overwhelms your mind, making it impossible to process in an orderly manner, intertwining the past, present, and future into a chaotic blend that is nearly impossible to separate.

You must find your anchor point, a point that makes you aware you are standing in the present.

The familiar voice urges you, guiding you on your next steps.

You recall the taste of spice in your tea cup—that peculiar blend of sweetness and fiery heat lingering on your tongue. You commit these sensations to memory, anchoring yourself in the present moment, while everything else beyond this remains as visions of what has been or what is yet to come.

"I think you’re taking too much spice." 

This is the present, you remind yourself, as Qimir pulls the tea cup from your grasp. At the mention of spice, your thoughts momentarily drift to Arrakis, the planet you once saw in your dreams. Arrakis used to be the primary source of spice, which was once the most valuable substance in the universe. But now, it’s merely a rare, costly drug, dismissed as useless by most.[1]

Few know that spice isn’t just a hallucinogen; it also enhances the ability to see into the future. That is why you need to consume it, despite the many side effects it has on your body.

You need to stay alert tonight to anticipate and prepare for what is coming next.

There’s a sedative in the food. 

You quietly review your plan in your mind. You have learned extensively about medicines from Qimir—how to identify herbs and concoct various potions with precision. Crafting a sedative isn't difficult; the challenge lies in administering it seamlessly so that even someone as sharp as Qimir won’t suspect a thing.

I used a method from the Suk School[2], you think, letting your mind drift back to the memories of your ancestors, back to a time before Paul Atreides became the Lisan al-Gaib.

You travel back to a pivotal moment in the galaxy's brutal history when House Harkonnen ruthlessly annihilated House Atreides. They initiated their plan by sedating everyone present before storming in to slaughter soldiers and servants, saving the key figures for last.

Your consciousness remains anchored in that moment, hearing the deep, mocking voice of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen as he taunts Lady Jessica, the Bene Gesserit and mother of Paul Atreides: “The sedative's effects were precisely calculated. We even know the exact second you will awaken.”

The method was simple: by knowing only height and weight, the Suk doctors could concoct the sedative in the precise dosage needed to control both the onset of drowsiness and the moment of awakening. Using this technique makes everything appear seamless and natural, as if the drowsiness were merely a result of natural fatigue rather than the effect of a drug. Qimir wouldn’t suspect he had been drugged—not until he woke up the next morning.

And by then, you’re certain you’ll be long gone from him.

He might harbor a slight suspicion now. you think, watching Qimir across the dinner table as he takes a bite of the Bocha[3] you prepared. But because he loves me, he chooses to trust me rather than doubt. And that will be his mistake.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Qimir remarks. You notice he’s finished eating and is now pouring you a glass of plain water—no spice. “What’s on your mind?”

You sense the growing suspicion in his eyes, sparked by your own lethargic and distant demeanor—a side effect of the spice and the temporal disorientation swirling in your mind. You know that Qimir's questioning isn't a good sign. If his doubts continue to deepen, the whole plan could easily unravel.

Clenching your fists, you deliberately press your nails into the soft skin of your palms, using the pain to anchor your mind in the present before responding in a calm voice: “I was just thinking of Arrakis. I dreamed of it a few nights ago.”

Arrakis. Qimir's brows furrow as he recalls how he’s heard you mutter the name of the ancient planet many times in your sleep.

He knows only that Arrakis was once the home planet of the Fremen, but beyond that, he knows little else. After the Holy Jihad ended, the stories of the Fremen became forbidden tales, lost to the sands of time. No records remain to testify to their existence. If Qimir hadn’t met you, he would have never believed that any Fremen still existed in this galaxy.

“Tell me,” he says softly. “About what you saw—about your home planet.”

You freeze for a moment, your mind pulled back into the past once more. Someone asked me this same question long ago.

How long? A thousand years, perhaps.

Deep in your consciousness, you find yourself sitting at the mouth of a sealed stone cave on Arrakis. Your gaze drifts over the distant rock formations and stretches of sand, a sense of peace settling over you. Cradled in your arms is a young Fremen woman of your age. As the night remains still, your lips meet in a silent kiss. She looks at you with eyes full of love, gently placing her hand on your cheek and whispering softly, “Usul, my beloved, tell me about your home planet.”

You blink, and the image shifts back to the present. The Fremen woman is replaced by Qimir. They share nothing in common except for those same eyes filled with love looking back at you.

Your heart wavers with confusion, a momentary urge to abandon your plan and confess the truth surging within you. But you can’t—there's no turning back now, only the choice to move forward.

“Arrakis was a desolate and arid planet, harsher than any other in the universe,” you say, setting your glass down on the table. “Water was so precious that we had to wear stillsuits at all times. These suits were designed to reclaim the body’s sweat and moisture, turning it into drinkable water.”

Qimir stares at you in amazement, a hint of apprehension creeping into his expression. “Are you saying that the Fremen used to drink their own sweat and... pee?”

You nod, almost smiling at his reaction. “We reclaimed even the water from corpses.”

“How did it taste?”

"Much worse than regular water," you reply, even though you've never actually tasted water from a stillsuit yourself. The memories of others make you feel as if you had. That warm, bland liquid was disgusting and bitter. "It was stale and unpleasant, but it was drinkable. We didn’t have much choice."

“That kind of life must’ve been incredibly hard.”

“Harder than anyone could imagine.” You hear a haunting wail deep within your mind as memories of brutal, unforgiving times resurface: stories of the Fremen fighting against ruthless rulers who came to exploit and plunder this planet, just to survive each day.

You take a deep breath before continuing, “But those hardships made us strong. We did whatever was necessary to survive.”

Qimir senses the bitterness in your words—the coldness laced with an undercurrent of isolation and pain hidden beneath those brief sentences.

He studies you for a moment, taking in your face and the deep blue eyes unique to the Fremen. The longer he looks, the more he senses a change within you. It’s as if you are no longer the person he once knew but someone from a distant, ancient world—a world he could never truly reach or understand, no matter how hard he tried.

Qimir moves closer, his hand reaching for yours. That's when he notices the small crescent-shaped marks from your nails on your palm. He stares at them for a moment before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the wound. “You’re not alone anymore, Hara.”

You know that whenever Qimir calls you by your Fremen name, it’s his way of expressing love and comfort. It always makes your heart soften, even though you know, deep down, that these feelings should never have existed in the first place.

The Bene Gesserit learned a harsh lesson from this long ago. They called it ‘The Jessica Crime,’[4] named after the mother of Paul Atreides. 

It is said that her love for Duke Leto led her to follow her heart rather than obey the Sisterhood's orders, giving birth to a son when she was supposed to bear a daughter. This act altered the fate of the universe by bringing forth the Kwisatz Haderach prematurely, sparking a galactic war that ultimately led to unimaginable losses.

Since then, the Bene Gesserit established an inviolable rule—a warning passed down to every sister of every generation: never fall in love and always place the greater good of humanity above personal feelings.

You alone truly understand Jessica's thoughts, even though you exist in different times. 

For to forbid someone from loving is like forbidding them from dying. As long as humanity has a heart, that rule will always remain impossible to follow.

Under the intoxicating influence of the spice that still clouds your senses, the world around you feels like a mirage. Even as Qimir's lips trail up to your mouth and neck, lingering in a slow, tender kiss, and his large hands caress your body, sending shivers of electricity through your skin, 

This is real. All of this is real. You remind yourself as you surrender your body and being to his embrace.

You are fully aware that you're making the same mistake Jessica did. You grasp this truth with perfect clarity, knowing the consequences that will follow. Yet you allow it to happen because denying it would only arouse suspicion. Besides, deep down, you don’t want to deny your own feelings. This might be the last moment you and he share together before your fragile bond shatters beyond repair.

Your fading consciousness returns briefly as Qimir guides you to the bed. His hands deftly undo the knots of your clothes, just as he does with his own, leaving both your bodies and souls exposed.

Qimir pulls you onto his lap, your bare skin pressing against his, every soft curve and firm muscle meeting in intimate contact. You feel his growing arousal beneath your thighs.

For the first time, he lets you touch the cross-shaped scar on his back. You trace it gently, unable to stop yourself from asking, “Did it hurt much when you got this scar?”

“More than words can express,” he replies with a faint smile, though his eyes shine with anger at the memory. “I’ve never forgotten what happened that day.”

You don’t press him further; you know when to ask and when to remain silent. Besides, curiosity is unnecessary for you, as you've already glimpsed some of what he's faced and the terrible things he's done. Qimir may be gentle with you, but he's not a good man. His hands are stained with the blood of countless lives, and yet you still allow those hands to roughly explore every part of your body, fully aware of who he is and what he's done.

Your breath hitches as Qimir's fingers pinch and knead your nipple, sending a jolt of heat that spreads across your face. His other hand slowly glides down your stomach, lower and lower, until it reaches your most sensitive area. His fingertips explore your folds, circling your clit before sliding inside. He moves with a steady rhythm—neither too slow nor too fast—just enough to awaken your arousal. It wasn’t long before your desire soared, and the slickness between your legs made you ready for what comes next.

You lean over Qimir, carefully lowering yourself onto him, taking your time. A wave of desire washes over you as the tip of his cock gradually enters you. You exhale shakily, resting your forehead upon his shoulder, savoring the feeling as every vein of his length drags against your gummy walls. filling and stretching you in all the right ways. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of intimacy and longing as your bodies merge completely.

Qimir's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly as you begin to move your hips, riding his cock with a slow rhythm. He presses wet kisses along your jaw, trailing down to your neck, where he bites and sucks, leaving marks as if to claim you. Meanwhile, your nails dig into his back, uncaring that it might hurt him—you're certain he enjoys it.

A moan escapes your lips as Qimir thrusts up into you, his hips smacking sloppily against wet lips between your legs. bullying his cock deeper inside you. He begins to rut into you with increasing force, making your entire body tremble with pleasure, the intensity building as he swiftly took control. guiding your hips to move in sync with his, alternating between slow and quick thrusts. 

The rhythm of desire is as tangled and complex as the threads of time. He knows exactly what you need, and you know what he desires, as if you've known each other for an eternity.

As your bodies move in perfect synchrony, chasing the orgasm that coils tight in your stomach, your thoughts and emotions begin to merge into one. While making love with Qimir, you catch glimpses of fragmented memories hidden within him, each flashing before your eyes like a rapidly playing video. You see the deaths of Jedi, the twisted desires, and the ominous shadow of a man wearing a cracked metal helmet, its surface etched with a twisted smile—the Sith who tried to kill you in your dreams.

They’re all the same person—each one is him.

“Qimir!”

You cry out, your voice breaking as your eyes widen in shock. Your entire body quakes with an indescribable sensation, torn between the bliss of your orgasm and the terror buried deep within your mind. You hear Qimir's low growl in your ear as he drives into you harder, relentless thrusts, until his movements begin to slow. His cock throbs inside you as he finally releases, painting your insides white with his cum, filling you to the brim and overflowing.

Qimir leans back on the bed, his breathing noticeably slowing, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He looks more drained than usual but still has the strength to pull you into his arms. You barely dare to breathe, lying stiffly under his hold, watching him as he drifts off to sleep in mere moments.

You remain still for a while, waiting until you’re sure Qimir is in a deep sleep before carefully untangling yourself from his hold. Slipping out of bed, you dress quietly, your mind already knowing what you must do next. But when you glance back at Qimir one last time, hesitation grips you.

You bite your lip, knowing that the wisest thing to do right now is to gather your belongings, escape this place, and contact Sol immediately. Yet your mind refuses to settle until you confirm the truth with your own eyes, even though you already know deep down that the vision couldn’t possibly be wrong.

Moving with quiet precision, you find yourself in front of Qimir’s office—a place you were never allowed to enter. The door, locked with a digital passcode, is something you don’t know; however, the images from your vision guide your fingers as you type the code accurately. The door slides open.

Inside, the room is large and spacious, a blend of an office and a workshop. One corner holds a cluttered desk, while another is filled with tools and equipment, and shelves and crates are haphazardly cluttered around. 

But what draws your attention most is a metal chest on the lowest shelf. Something within seems to beckon to you, like a faint whisper, urging you toward the secret waiting to be uncovered.

Kneeling on the floor, your hand trembles as you reach out to touch the chest. The cold metal startles you slightly, and a sudden fear wells up within you, making you hesitate to open it. I must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. You recite the Bene Gesserit litany in your mind to calm your nerves before finally deciding to open the chest with a swift motion.

What you find inside makes you cover your mouth in shock. The truth Qimir had been hiding all along now unfolds before you. 

Inside the chest lies a helmet made of cortosis, its dark, tarnished metal streaked with dull gold. The helmet is cracked in several places, though it has been mended. Its most distinct feature remains intact—the grotesque smile carved into the lower half of the helmet—the same smile you’ve seen countless times in your dreams

You think back to the events on the Trade Federation ship, where Qimir had appeared instead of the Sith. His face superimposes over the helmet in the chest, and in that instant, everything becomes crystal clear.

The man you've lived with all these years, the only one you've let into your life, is the very source of the darkness that haunts your dreams. Beneath the facade of a freelance trader and gentle lover lurks a terrifying truth—He is the Sith Lord, the threat to the galaxy, the ruthless Jedi killer, and possibly the one who may take your life.

Footnotes:

[1] This fic tweaks canon a bit—In canon, stopping spice use means losing prescient vision forever, but in this fic, you can quit without issue.

[2] Suk Doctors, trained at the Suk School, are elite physicians in the Dune universe, usually serving only wealthy families.

[3] Bocha is a crispy, delicious dish from The High Republic era, often served hot.

[4] According to the Dune novels, Lady Jessica’s defiance of the Bene Gesserit by having Paul Atreides is called 'The Jessica Crime,' a lesson for future generations to always control their emotions for humanity's sake."

[neatotito]

Happy Valentine's Day, all you love monkies!! 💖🐵🔧

We have a new 2 minute audio preview of the voices for the upcoming Monkey Wrench episode on Patreon! Just a dollar gets you in to listen, view, and chat with other fans!

Go on, feel the love~ 💘🍫🕊

[anim-ttrpgs]

Another A.N.I.M. Interview!

Another A.N.I.M. interview! This one was actually recorded back in March, and it’s my first-ever audio interview, so I apologize for my public speaking skills lol

The major takeaway I think from this interview is that when you spend money on a rulebook and/or adventure module, the burden should not fall on you to make the experience good. You should be able to rely on the rulebook to do a huge chunk of, if not most, of the work in a session. The rulebook should be providing a sturdy platform for the GM and players to stand on while they build their story, and ideally provide hammers, nails, screws, glue, paint, wood, scaffolding, cement, etc. for them to work with, and an adventure module should provide a structure at least half-built for them to work from, instead of making them put effort into just treading water while they also have to do all the other work.

If “listening for local rumors” is something a PC could feasibly do in an RPG, the rulebook should come with at least a DC to determine how difficult that is, so that the GM doesn’t have to make up a DC on the fly, then also determine what success or failure means on the fly.

Less than 3 days left to back our kickstarter for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy! Crowdfunding ends at 2:00 PM CST on Friday May 10th!

If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[accio-victuuri]

yibo-official weibo update

Only when you watch can you meet, and when you listen can you resonate; when youmeet indifferently, you can watch enthusiastically; when you embrace everything, you can pay tribute and pursue.

Be an ordinary and polite "bystander". @UNIQ-王一博

💽 Personal new EP "Spectator"

⏰2023/12/29 12:00