#when I say I’ve never hated anyone more

[hrrtshape]

did you see the post with shiftingonmars ranting you?? and most of her posts are never even about shifting?? she says she has been unmotivated to shift for so long and when someone tries to motivate her she goes off on them

some things:

i never called anyone out or sicced people on them. loa and shifting the same thing, and if that offends you, i don’t know, go argue with a wall. people could’ve dm'ed me, but instead, they made a whole broadway production about it. i hope the standing ovation was worth it. also, most of the things there were just lies. so. please reference stuff. besides shiftingwithmars has been hating on me for the last month, i'm not surprised dlorjeurhfehro

ok. and im sorry, but it's funny. like genuinely. wait no it's actually heartbreaking UHM. people call me entitledbla bla bla, but i’ve put in like.......hours of work. more, actually. a thousand asks, hundreds of posts, my own safety (cause i got doxxed hi ). and for what??

if my posts disturb your delicate sensibilities so much, there’s a wonderful, magical, life-changing feature called blocking. highly recommend.

idk what to say anymore even because something that i wanted to do for the sake of fun and sharing my journey has......literally turned into a waking nightmare. pls leave me alone lol !!!!!!!!

[astars-things]

Can I request for Luke please - “i feel safe in your arms” maybe he’s getting hate and it gets to him so he confides in you

It was nearly midnight when I heard the front door click shut. The sound was soft, careful, like whoever was coming in didn’t want to wake me, but I was already awake. I always was when Luke came home late, my mind too busy wondering if he was okay to actually sleep.

I sat up in bed, the soft glow of my bedside lamp filling the room as the door to our bedroom creaked open. Luke stood there, his shoulders slumped, his hoodie pulled up over his messy curls. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying in the car before finally making his way inside.

“Hey,” I said softly, opening my arms without even thinking. That’s all it took. Luke crossed the room in just a few steps, crawling into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buried his face into my neck.

He didn’t say anything at first, and I didn’t push. I just ran my fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp the way I knew calmed him down. His breathing was shaky, his grip on me tight, like if he held on hard enough, the world outside might disappear for a little while.

Finally, after a few minutes, he whispered, “I feel safe in your arms.”

His voice cracked, and my heart shattered on the spot. I’d seen Luke upset before, after a tough game, or when he missed his family, but this was different. This was deeper, heavier.

I pulled back just enough to look at him, cradling his face between my hands. “Talk to me, baby,” I said softly. “What’s going on?”

His eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching for a moment before he finally let the words spill out. “It’s just, the hate, Y/N. It’s everywhere. Online, at games, even at the rink sometimes. I try to ignore it, I swear I do, but it’s like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.” His voice wavered, and he shook his head, frustration and pain mingling in his expression. “I’m just so tired.”

I wiped away a tear that slipped down his cheek, my thumb brushing softly over his skin. “Luke,” I murmured, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

He nodded, his forehead leaning against mine.

“You are enough,” I said firmly. “You are so much more than the things people say about you. I know it’s hard, and I know it hurts, but none of those people know the real you. The boy who always kisses me goodnight, who gets way too excited about breakfast, who sings off-key in the shower, the boy who’s got the biggest heart I’ve ever known.”

His lips trembled into a small smile, and I kissed him softly, slow and sweet, hoping it would remind him just how loved he was.

“You make me feel safe too,” I whispered. “Because no matter what anyone else says, you’re my Luke, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Luke hugged me tighter, tears still glistening in his eyes, but his breathing was steadier now.

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair.

“I love you more,” I promised

[octaneink]

Could you do some dating willne headcannons or some willne smut but like in an established relationship? I’m obsessed with your fics, I swear I’ve read them so much I could recite them from memory 😭😭

Ahhh thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy that you like what I've written. I've never done headcannons or write smut lol so bear with me. I don't really know how to write smut ngl so I hope you like the spice (I think thats spicy? I don't know) at the end, I've never really written anything lke that before so I hope its...realistic?

Warning for some steamy stuff at the end!

Dating Will Lenney Headcanons

Playful Banter

In your relationship with Will, playful banter is the base of your dynamic, and he uses it to keep things light, fun, and endlessly entertaining. Whether you’re curled up on the couch, out for a walk, or in the middle of a mundane task, Will’s teasing is a constant—a reminder of how much he adores you.

He’s the kind of person who can’t resist poking fun at your quirks, but it’s always done with so much affection that it never feels mean-spirited. For example, if you’re watching one of your favourite romantic series for the hundredth time, he’ll lean over with a smirk and say, “Oh, this again? Let me guess—they’ll hate each other, then fall in love, and you’ll cry even though you know exactly how it ends.” But then he’ll stay right there beside you, secretly enjoying how much you love it—and secretly enjoying the series himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’s grown fond of the predictable charm of your go-to media.

Will’s teasing isn’t just one-sided, though. I think he’d love it if you gave as good as you get. If you catch him singing off-key in the shower, you’ll absolutely call him out on it. “Wow, I didn’t know cats could sing opera,” or something, and he’ll laugh so hard he almost slips. Or if he’s trying to fix something around the house, and it goes wrong, you’ll be there with a camera and a sarcastic comment like, “Handyman of the year, everyone.” He’ll pretend to be offended, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

The best part is how his teasing always comes with an undercurrent of love. He’ll joke about your “weirdly specific and unnecessarily complex” coffee order, but he’ll still remember it perfectly and surprise you with it on a rough day. And if anyone else dares to tease you, he’s quick to jump to your defence, proving that his playful jabs are reserved for him alone.

Your banter becomes a language of its own—a way to say “I love you” without actually saying it. It’s in the way he grins when you roll your eyes at his jokes, the way he nudges you gently when you’re being stubborn. The way he always knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on your worst days. With Will, every day feels like a game, and you’re both winning.

Supportive Partner

In your relationship with Will, his unwavering support is one of the things you cherish most. He’s not just your partner—he’s your biggest cheerleader, your hype man, and your safe haven all rolled into one. No matter what you’re going through, whether it’s chasing a dream, tackling a new challenge, or just having a rough day, Will is always there to lift you up and remind you of your worth.

When you decide to try something new—whether it’s skating, learning an instrument, or even something as simple as baking a complicated recipe—Will will be the first to encourage you. He’ll sit with you while you practice, offering gentle advice when you ask for it and cheering you on even when you feel like giving up. “You’re a natural,” he’ll say, even if your first attempt at playing the guitar sounds more like a cat in distress. “Seriously, I’ve never heard anyone make that chord sound so… unique.” His teasing is always light-hearted, but it’s paired with genuine admiration for your willingness to try. And when you finally nail it? He’s beaming with pride, as if you’ve just won a Grammy. “Told you! I knew you could do it. Now play it again—I need this on video for when you’re famous.”

On tough days, Will’s support is a quiet, steady force. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you’re feeling down, even if you try to hide it. Without a word, he’ll wrap you in a hug, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “Talk to me.” And when you do, he listens—actually listens. He doesn’t try to fix everything (unless you ask him to), but he’ll remind you of your strength and resilience. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, his voice firm but gentle. “And even if you don’t feel like you do, I’ve got you. Always.”

Will’s encouragement isn’t just reserved for big moments, either. He celebrates the small victories with just as much enthusiasm. Did you survive a particularly gruelling day at work? He’ll show up with your favourite takeout and a movie, ready to pamper you. “You’re a rock star, and rock stars deserve the VIP treatment.”

But what makes Will’s support so special is how deeply personal it is. He pays attention to the little things—your favourite comfort foods, the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He knows when you need a pep talk, when you need a distraction, and when you just need someone to sit with you in silence. And he’s always there, without fail.

His belief in you is unshakeable. Even when you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t. “You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and you’re capable of anything you set your mind to,” he’ll say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.”

With Will by your side, you feel invincible. His support isn’t just words—it’s in the way he shows up for you, day after day, in big ways and small. He’s your partner, your teammate, and your biggest fan. And no matter what life throws your way, you know you’ll always have him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

Car Rides

Car rides with Will are an experience in themselves. He’s always the one behind the wheel, and you’re perfectly content being his passenger princess. With you who's in control of the music, and you take full advantage of it. Whether you’re in the mood for girly pop, rock and roll, Afrobeats, jungle, reggae, or even a random playlist of your favourite guilty pleasures, Will never complains. He embraces it, turning every drive into a mini concert filled with laughter and the occasional side-eye from strangers at traffic lights.

You love how he lets you take charge of the aux, trusting your musical instincts even when your choices are… questionable. One day, you might blast upbeat pop anthems, singing at the top of your lungs as he chuckles beside you. “Okay, but why do I lowkey know all the words to this?” he’ll say, pretending to be embarrassed before joining in on the chorus. Another day, you might switch it up with some smooth reggae or high-energy Afrobeats, and he’ll bob his head along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. “You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that,” he’ll tease, even if he’s secretly adding some of your songs to his own playlist.

The best moments are when you both get so into the music that you forget the world around you. You’ll be belting out a duet to some cheesy love song, completely off-key but having the time of your lives, when you catch people in the next car staring at you. Will, never one to back down from a bit of fun, will roll down the window and shout, “What? Never seen a Grammy-winning performance before?” before bursting into laughter and speeding off when the light turns green.

Long drives are your favourite. Whether it’s a road trip to somewhere new or just a leisurely cruise around town, the car becomes your little bubble of happiness. You’ll pack snacks, throw a blanket in the backseat just in case, and let the music set the mood. Will’s driving is smooth and confident, and you love how he occasionally reaches over to hold your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he focuses on the road. “You good over there, princess?” he’ll ask, glancing at you with a smile. And you’ll nod, feeling completely at ease because, with him, even the simplest moments feel special.

Sometimes, the drives are quiet, the music playing softly in the background as you both enjoy the comfortable silence. Other times, they’re filled with lively conversations, random debates, or Will’s hilarious commentary on whatever’s happening outside. “Did that guy just try to parallel park in one go? Bold move,” he’ll say, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Or, “That billboard says ‘World’s Best Coffee.’ Challenge accepted.” And just like that, you’re pulling into a random café to test their claim, laughing the entire time.

But no matter where you’re going or what you’re listening to, the car rides always feel like yours. It’s your space to be silly, to be serious, to be yourselves. And Will wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Side

Beneath Will’s laid-back, easygoing exterior I see lies a fiercely protective streak, especially when it comes to you. While he’s usually the type to brush things off with a joke or a sarcastic remark, the moment someone disrespects you or crosses a line, his playful demeanour is gone.

Will’s protectiveness isn’t the loud, over-the-top kind. It’s subtle but firm. He’s the type to notice things others might miss—a snide comment, a dismissive tone, or even a lingering look that makes you uncomfortable. And while he might not always call it out immediately (he prefers to gauge how you feel about it first), he’s always ready to step in at the moment you need him.

Like if someone makes a backhanded comment about you in a social setting, Will’s response is sharp but calculated. He’ll tilt his head, feigning confusion, and say something like, “Oh, I’m sorry—did you mean to say that out loud? Because it sounded like utter bullshit.” His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear he’s not joking. And if the person tries to laugh it off or double down, he’ll hit them with a perfectly timed quip that leaves them speechless.

But it’s not just about witty comebacks. If someone genuinely hurts you—whether it’s a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger—he’s quick to reassure you that their behaviour says more about them than it does about you. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are doesn’t deserve a second of your time,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm.

What makes Will’s protectiveness so endearing is how he balances it with respect for your independence. He never tries to fight your battles for you unless you ask him to. Instead, he understands that you can stand up for yourself and is often there offering quiet support and encouragement. “You don’t need me to defend you,” he’ll say with a grin. “You’re perfectly capable of putting people in their place. But just in case, I’ll be right here, ready to back you up.” (definitely would hold your earrings and purse if you were to scrap with someone)

And when it comes to physical safety, Will’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. If you’re walking home late at night, he’ll insist on accompanying you, even if it’s out of his way. If you’re feeling uneasy in a crowded place, he’ll subtly position himself between you and whatever—or whoever—is making you uncomfortable. And if anyone dares to threaten you, his calm, sarcastic facade drops entirely. He becomes a force to be reckoned with, his voice low and steady as he says, “You have one more chance to apologise and walk away before this gets ugly.”

With him by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and fiercely defended. And while you might not always need his protection, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, Will will always have your back.

Surprise Dates

Between his busy schedule and the demands of everyday life, you make it a point to plan dates that are thoughtful, fun, and meaningful. You’ve made it a tradition to try something new at least once a month, while the other dates revolve around activities you both love. Whether it’s a spontaneous road trip, a nostalgic arcade night, or a fancy dinner at a place he’s been wanting to try, you always find ways to make him feel special—and he absolutely adores it.

You know how much Will appreciates surprises, so you’ve become a master at planning ahead. You keep a mental (or physical) list of things he mentions in passing—like a new restaurant he wants to check out, a movie he’s excited to see, or a place he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when the time is right, you spring the surprise on him. His face lights up every time, and the way he grins when he realises what you’ve planned is worth every bit of effort.

Another month, you might plan a random road trip to a nearby town neither of you has explored. You’ll pack a picnic, create a playlist of his favourite songs, and let him take the wheel. The excitement in his eyes when he realises where you’re headed is priceless. “You’re seriously the best,” he’ll say, squeezing your hand as he starts the car. Along the way, he’ll take detours to roadside attractions, insisting on stopping for silly photo ops and spontaneous adventures. “Look at this place!” he’ll exclaim, pulling over at a giant dinosaur statue or a retro diner. “We have to take a picture. This is peak road trip material.” And of course, you’ll oblige, laughing as he strikes ridiculous poses and insists on making the memories as over-the-top as possible (though he takes cute couple pictures as well).

And then there are the fancy dates—the ones where you pull out all the stops. You’ll book a table at that upscale restaurant he’s been talking about for weeks, or you’ll surprise him with tickets to a show or event he’s been dying to see. On those nights, you love seeing him dressed up, his usual casual vibe swapped for something more polished. “Look at you, all fancy,” you’ll tease, and he’ll shoot back with a smirk, “What can I say? I clean up nice. But not as nice as you.”

What makes these dates so special is how much thought you put into them. You know how busy Will’s schedule can be, so you always plan ahead to make sure the timing works. You’ll coordinate with his friends or coworkers if needed, and you’re not above bribing them with coffee or baked goods to keep the surprise under wraps. And when the day finally arrives, you love seeing the look on his face. “You planned all this for me?” he’ll ask, his voice soft with disbelief. “Of course I did,” you’ll reply, smiling. “You deserve it.”

But it’s not just about the big surprises. You also make time for the little things—like cosy movie nights at home, complete with his favourite snacks and a blanket fort, or lazy Sunday mornings where you cook breakfast together and spend hours talking and laughing. Those moments are just as important, and they remind you both why you fell in love in the first place.

With every date, whether big or small, you show Will how much he means to you. And in return, he makes sure you know how much he appreciates it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he’ll say, pulling you close after a particularly memorable outing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.” And as you smile up at him, you know that these moments—these carefully planned, perfectly executed surprises—are what make your relationship so special.

Social Media PDA

I think Will is the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and that extends to his social media presence. While he respects your desire to keep a low profile due to your job, he’s not shy about showing the world how much he adores you. His Instagram is a mix of his work, his hobbies, and, of course, glimpses of your relationship. He’s the type to post pictures of the two of you without a second thought, whether it’s a candid shot of you laughing at something he said or a cosy selfie from a date night. Or a goofy photo of you both making faces at the camera.

His captions are always playful and affectionate. “Caught this one mid-laugh. Guess I’m funnier than I thought” or “Date night with my favourite person. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”. The comments are always flooded with fans gushing over how cute you two are together, and Will loves reading them, often showing you the funniest or sweetest ones with a proud grin. “Look, they’re saying we’re goals. Can’t argue with that.”

But it’s not just the photos. You occasionally pop up in the background of his videos, whether it’s a behind-the-scenes clip from one of his projects or a casual vlog. Sometimes it’s just your hand in the frame as you pass him a coffee, or your voice chiming in with a sarcastic comment that makes him burst out laughing. Fans have come to love these little moments, dubbing them “crumbs” and saying that they’re being “fed” whenever you make an appearance. “We see you back there!” they’ll comment, or “The way he looks at her when she talks… I can’t. 😭”

Will finds the whole thing hilarious and endearing. He loves how much his fans adore you, even though you’re not in the spotlight yourself. “They’re obsessed with you,” he’ll say, scrolling through the comments. “Can’t blame them, though. I’m obsessed with you too.” And while you prefer to stay out of the public eye, you can’t help but smile at the way he proudly includes you in his world, even if it’s just in small, subtle ways.

There are times when he’ll sneak in a little more PDA than usual, just to mess with you. Like the time he posted a video of the two of you cooking together, and he casually dropped a kiss on your forehead mid-sentence. The internet went wild, and you playfully scolded him for it later. “You’re such a show-off,” you said, and he just shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like showing the world how lucky I am.”

Despite his public displays of affection, Will is careful to respect your boundaries. He never shares anything too personal or invasive, and he always checks with you before posting something that features you prominently. “You good with this?” he’ll ask, showing you a photo or video before hitting post. And if you ever say no, he doesn’t hesitate to scrap it, no questions asked. “Your comfort comes first,” he’ll say, and it’s one of the many reasons you love him.

For Will, it’s simple: he’s proud of you, proud of your relationship, and he wants the world to know it. And even though you prefer to stay behind the scenes, you can’t help but feel a little flutter of happiness every time you see one of his posts and realise, all over again, just how much he loves you.

Spicy Headcanons

Rough or soft?

Will is the kind of partner who knows exactly what you need, even before you do. Whether it’s a night of tender affection or one where he pushes you to the edge, he always makes sure you feel safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

Soft Moments

When the mood calls for softness, Will is all about making you feel adored. He’ll take his time, his touches gentle and deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His kisses are slow and sweet, starting at your lips and trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and everywhere else he knows you love to be touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your skin, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes your heart swell. “I could spend forever like this, just you and me.” His hands will roam your body with reverence, tracing patterns that leave you shivering. He’ll whisper praise in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves the way you respond to him, and how lucky he feels to have you in his arms.

These are the moments where he’s all about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your happiness. He’ll hold you close afterward, his fingers brushing through your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. “You’re my everything,” he’ll say, and you’ll believe him, because in those moments, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Rough Moments

But then there are the nights when Will’s more dominant side takes over. It’s not about anger or frustration—it’s about trust, about pushing boundaries, and exploring the raw connection between you. On these nights, he’s in complete control, and he knows exactly how to make you unravel.

He’ll start slow, his touch firm but teasing, building you up until you’re trembling with need. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he’ll pull back, his grip tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He’ll edge you relentlessly, his hands and mouth working you to the brink over and over again until you’re a writhing, desperate mess. Tears might prick at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you beg him for release. But he won’t give in—not until he’s sure you’ve reached your limit. “You can take it,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance. “I know you can.” Of course, you can; you haven’t said the safe word yet.

Foreplay

Will is the kind of man who takes his time, savouring every moment of intimacy with you. He’s not just interested in the end goal—he’s obsessed with the journey, with the way he can make you unravel under his touch. For Will, foreplay is an art form, and you are his masterpiece. He loves watching you moan, squirm, and barely hold onto yourself, knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge.

It starts with his hands, always so deliberate and sure. He’ll trace patterns along your skin, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loves the way you shiver under his touch, the way your breath hitches when he finds that one spot that makes you gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” he’ll murmur, the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. “I love how you react to me.”

His mouth. Damn his mouth. He’ll press kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach—everywhere but where you want him most, just to tease you. “Will,” you’ll whine, your hands tangling in his hair, and he’ll chuckle against your skin, the vibration making you squirm. “Patience, love,” he’ll say, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he finally does give you what you want, it’s with a slow, deliberate intensity that leaves you breathless. He’ll watch you as he works, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in every moan, every whimper, every desperate plea for more. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll say, his voice rough with need. “I could watch you fall apart all day.”

But Will isn’t just about physical touch—he’s a master of words, too. He’ll whisper filthily sweet nothings in your ear, his voice a mix of praise and promise. “You take me so well,” he’ll say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love how you sound, how you feel, how you’re all mine.” His words are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and they only make you want him more.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re a trembling, incoherent mess, barely able to form a sentence. But Will isn’t satisfied until he’s sure you’re completely undone. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his hands and mouth working in tandem to push you even further. “I want to hear you beg.”

I hope people don't mind that I only wrote two spicy scenes. Sorry, I kinda ran out of ideas lol. Anyways… how did people like the headcannons? These are headcannons right?

[inubaki]

I’m Not Sorry For Lovin’ You

-wings-Adamsapplefluffweek

———-

Someone arrived today They said they're taking you away

That you're not mine to save And soon I won't get to see your face

So I came by to say You're unlike anyone I have ever known

'Cause you're all I've ever known

And if I pushed you Or if I came on too strong

Or if I ambushed you

For that, I'll say I was wrong

And if you hate me Then I am sorry my love's too much for you

But I'm not sorry for loving you

I'm not sorry for loving you

I'm not sorry for loving you

I'm not sorry for loving you

“Luci…”

Let me speak

I spent my whole life here

Was cast away when I was young

Alone for a hundred years

I had no friends but the sky and sun

So when you washed ashore

I thought for sure that you were my dream come true

I thought I knew

So if I pushed you

Or if I came on too strong

Or if I ambushed you

For that, I'll say I was wrong

And if you hate me Then I am sorry my love's too much for you Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

But I'm not sorry for loving you

I'm not sorry for loving you I'm not sorry for loving you I'm not sorry for loving you

… I'm not sorry

I'm angry and tired and restless and sad

I'm stuck in the moments I swore that we had

I wish you would chase me Or try to embrace me

For once, I wish you would lie and say

“I love you”

… You do?

“ … But not in the way that you want me to”

… I hate that I fell in love with you Hate that I fell in love with you Why did I fall in love with you? Why did I fall in love with you? What do I do with this love for you?

How am I supposed to get over you? How am I supposed to get over you? Why in the world won't you love me too

————-

This concept idea seems from the idea that after Adam dies he’s pushed back into a separate timeline. In which Lucifer was deemed to strong to be left in hell, instead, stuck into a separate pocket dimension on an early concept of Eden.

For there he lingers, never having met the humans nor partaken the apple. He has no concept of Adam’s past, only drawing from his injuries that he’s like him. Abandoned and alone.

He’s eager to know him, touch, talk, love and bond, but Adam holds all the memories in which Lucifer resists him. He doesn’t want to get close to Lucifer, struggling to find a way to escape. But when he starts to feel the pull of shared isolation. Lucifer falls for him, but Adam is to wary to believe it.

But still pulls for Lucifer to join in finding a way out. (The colors are Adam and Lucifer losing stature the closer join together)

it’s not my favorite. But I had fun and it helps me through the worse of my illness.

Based off @marthaluvsya’s post and a song from Epic

I’ve been sick these last few days but I really wanted to finish this. Mainly to show that I could go myself.

[earthtoharlow]

HIT THE LIGHS

3rd installment of the Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights & Don’t Like The Lights first to understand

series masterlist

3. The Journey

“I love them more than anything in the world, but sometimes… I miss how things used to be. Before the kids. When it was just us.” Maryse hesitated, swallowing the guilt rising in her throat. “I know it sounds selfish, and I hate even thinking it, but I miss the simplicity. I miss you and me without all the extra weight. And lately, it feels like we’re not even on the same page anymore.”

Jack listened in silence, his expression unreadable, though her words hit harder than he wanted to admit. After a moment, he simply said, “Go on.”

She took a breath, her voice unsteady. “I’m so grateful for our babies. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But I miss having your full attention. I miss just… breathing. I miss laughing about nothing, staying up all night talking, not constantly thinking about schedules, diapers, or how exhausted we are.”

Jack reached for her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. “That doesn’t sound selfish,” he said softly.

Her eyes stung, but she blinked back the tears. “It doesn’t?”

“No,” he said firmly. “It sounds human. This is a huge change for both of us. Missing what we had before doesn’t mean we love them—or each other—any less.”

A shaky laugh escaped her. “I was so scared to say it out loud. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t happy or that I regret anything.”

“I’d never think that,” he reassured her. “I get it. I really do. I feel the same way sometimes. But you’re right—we need to find space for us again.”

Relief washed over her. She had been terrified he’d misunderstand, that he’d think she was ungrateful. But she wasn’t. She loved their life, their babies, him.

Jack ran a hand down his face, nodding as he processed her words. Then, after a beat, he looked at her. “Is it my turn now?”

She gave a small, hesitant nod, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie.

He exhaled, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Alright… I’ve been holding a lot in too.” He hesitated before meeting her eyes. “I was more upset than I let on about you posting the twins without talking to me first.”

Her stomach dropped, guilt settling in. “I know,” she admitted softly.

“I get why you did it,” he continued. “I knew something must’ve happened that made you feel like you had to post them right then. But it still stung, you know? We’ve kept them private for so long, and then I wake up and see them on my feed like everyone else. And instead of hearing it from you, I had to hear about it from my best friend.”

She swallowed hard, guilt pressing deep in her chest. “I should’ve told you first,” Maryse whispered.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, then let out a sigh. “And I should’ve told you how I really felt instead of brushing it off like it was nothing.” He sat back, watching her. “I don’t wanna be like that. I want us to talk about things, even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially now that we have kids. I want them to grow up in a house where their parents don’t hide their feelings, no matter how hard it is to say them out loud.”

Something tightened in Maryse’s chest—not in a bad way, but in a way that made her realize just how much he was trying.

She nodded slowly, still gripping the fabric of his hoodie. “I want that too,” she said, and she meant it.

Jack studied her for a moment before his gaze dropped to her hand, where the promise ring gleamed on her finger. He tilted his head slightly. “You remember what I said when I gave that to you?”

She did. The memory of that night in Paris rushed back—him sitting across from her in their hotel room, the way he turned the ring between his fingers, the way he looked at her when he said, I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want us to keep building our future together.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded.

“Then think about that every time you start doubting how I feel about you,” he said, his voice softer now, more certain. “Because I meant every word.”

His eyes stayed on her, unwavering. “And I’m gonna prove it to you—every day, for the rest of your life—until you believe it. Until you realize I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breath hitched, fingers tightening on his hoodie.

“You gotta stop letting other people’s opinions get in your head,” he continued, his voice firm but gentle. “They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through—what we have.” He shook his head. “I’m here. I’ve been here. And I’m always gonna be here.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she looked at him—the man who had been by her side through everything. The highs, the lows, the moments that shattered her and the ones that put her back together.

And for the first time in a while, she let herself believe it..

Maryse didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she climbed into his lap, settling against him like it was second nature. Her arms looped around his neck as she pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of it. She felt the deep exhale he let out, the way his grip on her tightened instinctively.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured against his skin. “For always running away.” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her fingers tracing absently over the back of his head. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Jack studied her, searching her face like he needed to be sure she meant it.

“Good,” he finally said, voice low. “’Cause I need you here.”

“I am here,” she promised. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

His arms wrapped more securely around her, his fingers trailing slow circles on her back. “It really upsets me when you walk away like that. I get that sometimes we need space, but leaving isn’t the answer. We’re in this for life, baby.”

She swallowed hard, guilt settling deep in her chest. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Jack tilted her chin up, making sure she was looking at him. “We’re gonna go through stuff. That’s just what happens when you love somebody. But I need you to remember—we’re gonna get through it together. You hear me?”

She nodded, her throat tight with emotion.

“And you still gotta give me ten kids.”

A watery laugh slipped out as she smacked his chest lightly. “Ten is crazy.”

“I’m just saying,” he teased, his lips brushing against hers. “We make cute babies.”

Maryse softened, tracing a finger along his jaw. “We do make cute kids.” Then she sighed, glancing toward the door. “I miss them… Should we go get them?”

Jack shook his head immediately, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Nah… best part about arguing is makeup sex.”

Her eyes widened as she gasped, laughing just as he suddenly grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. “Oh my God! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, patting her thigh as he carried her out of the living room. “You started this, now you gotta finish it.”

She kept laughing, kicking her feet playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

Jack tossed her onto the bed, and Maryse barely had a second to react before he was on top of her. Their lips crashed together, hands roaming, tugging at each other’s clothes with the kind of desperation that only came after a fight. Her fingers fumbled with his waistband, ready to yank his pants down when he suddenly stilled.

She blinked up at him, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

Jack exhaled, running a hand over his face. “Wait… I won’t drop the song.”

For a second, she almost didn’t register what he was saying—until it hit her. The song. The argument. The whole reason they were even in this moment.

She propped herself up on her elbows, searching his face. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “If it upsets you, I won’t drop it.”

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. He was willing to set aside something important to him for her. But she shook her head, reaching up to cup his face. “No… you have to drop it. I would never forgive myself if I stopped you from releasing something you worked hard on.”

His eyes stayed on hers. “You sure?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes. I don’t ever want to be the reason you hold back on your music. I just… I needed to talk to you about it. That’s all.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You could’ve just talked to me from the jump instead of storming off.”

Maryse rolled her eyes. “Are we really doing this right now?”

Jack chuckled, leaning back down to kiss her. “Nah… we got better things to do.”

His lips brushed against her ear as he murmured, “You can be as loud as you want… it’s just us.”

Her breath hitched, fingers digging into his back as he pressed deeper against her. The reminder sent a shiver down her spine—no interruptions, no worrying about waking the twins, just the two of them, lost in each other.

She let go, her moans filling the space between them. He groaned in response, loving the way she unraveled beneath him. “That’s my girl,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her deeply, swallowing every sound she made..

With every movement, the tension from their argument dissolved, replaced by something deeper—something unbreakable. Jack’s grip on Maryse’s hips was firm, pulling her closer like he could never get enough. His breath was hot against her ear as he leaned in, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I’m never gonna leave you. You hear me?”

Her heart clenched at his words, her nails pressing into his back as she held him tighter. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling from the intensity of it all.

“Say it again,” he pleaded, his tone softer now—vulnerable.

“I love you,” she said without hesitation. That’s when she saw it—the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. Something inside her cracked wide open, and she pulled him down into a slow, aching kiss.

When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “You’re the love of my life. Always.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands trembling slightly as he held her even closer. “Again,” he begged, his voice barely above a breath.

“You’re the love of my life,” she repeated, her lips ghosting over his with every word. “And nothing is ever gonna change that.”

The tears finally fell, and she kissed them away, cradling his face as if her touch alone could make him whole. In that moment, nothing else existed—just them, their love, and the quiet promises stitching them back together.

As they lay tangled in the sheets, their breaths still uneven, Jack pulled her closer, arms tightening around her like he was afraid she might slip away. His face was buried in her hair, his hands spread across her back, holding her as if he could fuse them together.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured after a moment.

Maryse frowned, her fingers tracing lazy patterns down his spine. “For what?”

“For crying,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She pulled back just enough to see his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Don’t ever apologize for that,” she told him firmly, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You never have to be sorry for feeling something with me.”

His eyes searched hers, looking for reassurance, and she gave it to him the only way she knew how—by pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. “I love you,” she whispered. “Every part of you—including the part that feels things deeply.”

His arms tightened around her again as he let out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I love you too,” he murmured, this time with certainty.

Maryse exhaled softly. “Are we friends again?” she asked, exhaustion and relief woven into her voice.

Jack pulled her even closer, as if to make up for lost time. “The best of friends,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Lovers, even.”

She smiled against his skin, but before she could respond, he sighed. “I hate when we argue,” he admitted. “I know we’re going to disagree sometimes, but I don’t want it to feel like we’re on opposite sides.”

She nestled deeper into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Me too,” she whispered. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

His hand trailed down her back in a soothing motion. “Then let’s work on it. No more shutting down. No more running.”

She nodded, the promise unspoken but understood in the way she held onto him.

“And we can’t let anyone rush us,” he added, his voice steady. “I love where we are right now. We don’t have to sprint toward the altar just because people expect it.”

Maryse lifted her head slightly to study him. “You don’t want to get married?”

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “M, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” he admitted. “But I want us to take our time—enjoy being parents, enjoy figuring things out. I don’t want us to move faster just because the world is watching.”

She held his gaze for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. I love where we are too.”

His lips brushed against her forehead. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m in this forever, no matter how long it takes.”

They were quiet for a moment as they were still tangled up in the sheets. Jack lazily traced circles on Maryse’s back, his fingers warm against her skin. His voice was low and teasing when he murmured, “We should call my mom and wish the twins goodnight.”

Maryse hummed in agreement, snuggling closer. “Yeah, we should.”

He smirked. “And then, after that, we can get back to making up properly.”

She gasped, smacking his chest, making him laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah yeah, I know” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as he reached for his phone.

A moment later, his mom answered the video call, and the screen filled with the sight of London and Noah, fresh out of the bath and dressed in their pajamas.

“Hi, my babies!” Maryse cooed, sitting up slightly

London immediately tried to kiss the phone, her little lips smushing against the screen, while Noah waved with his tiny hand, grinning.

Jack chuckled. “Y’all miss us?”

Noah babbled something incoherent, and Jack’s mom appeared in the background, smiling. “They’ve been good, but I think they’re wondering where their parents are.”

Maryse pouted. “We miss them so much.”

London clapped her hands, and both Jack and Maryse laughed, soaking in the moment.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Jack said.

“Love you, sweethearts,” Maryse added.

As the call ended, she sighed happily, resting her head on his chest.

“They’re perfect,” she whispered.

“They are,” he agreed, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. He let a beat of silence pass before smirking. “Now, where were we?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight her smile as he shifted above her again, his hands already wandering.

***

AN: 💜🥹 thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts!!! Next chapter will come out on the twins birthday 🤭

Tag List

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[mango-dot-yum]

I know I’ve been posting a lot of hate recently… but I’m working on a doll of Pearl so I’ve been looking at a bunch of her costumes, so I need to talk about my least favorites😭😭 to balance it out, I’ll also talk about costumes for Pearl I like.

Disclaimer: these are all just MY opinion. If you like these costumes I’m happy that you do. I just don’t.

First off, I hate this ugly Las Vegas/Tour costume. I already posted a rant about all the coaches’ costumes a while ago, but I’m going to restate some of it here. My main issue is definitely the removal of the front panel of the skirt. When I think of Pearl, I think of her spinning and removing the front panel makes the spinning a lot less cooler looking. The part covering her bust being removed makes the neck thing look a lot more random and out of place and honestly, bad. She also just looks weird with no leggings, and I don’t like the blonde hair. The design feels too mature(there’s definitely a better word, I just can’t think of it rn) for Pearl. Pearl is either portrayed as innocent and really naive who is well intentioned in the end, or she’s a sucky person with no regard for others and just pretends to be nice, and this design doesn’t fit either. This costume is genuinely so ugly that I’m only putting one example photo of it.

A costume I do like is the Broadway costume for Pearl. This is probably the most iconic/well-known costume for Pearl since it- and barely unchanged versions of it- were used until 2018. It’s metallic and sleek which goes well with Pearl being the brand-new girl. The “OBSERVATION” panel and the “PM” on the skirt makes it feel a lot more like someone dressing up as a train instead of just someone dressing up, and I like the more square shoulder things instead of the more rounded ones used originally. There’s definitely a reason this costume went unchanged for so long.

Another Pearl costume I don’t like is probably one unsurprising- Bochum 2018. The costume itself is practically the exact same as it was before the 2018 changes, save for the “OBSERVATION” being changed to “FIRST CLASS” and the obvious color change. I do not like the all white costume because it makes a lot of the details blend together and makes the costume too same-y. Other costumes had variation with different types of pinks, silvers, and whites, but this only has the white. It also has a slick, straight ponytail, which is not what o think of when I think of Pearl. It reminds me of how Hatsune Miku has gotten smaller and smaller pigtails throughout the years. To me, Pearl’s hair has always been one of the staples of her character, and this was such a dramatic change. This costume just feels so much more conservative and sophisticated in a way that doesn’t feel like Pearl. Pearl has always been frilly and girlish- and while I understand why they might want to change that- it’s also so deeply engrained in her character that removing it almost makes her another character.

Lastly, a costume I do like. The original London production is beautiful, and it’s a shame that elements from it were never brought to other versions of this character. The costume has quite a bit of black in it- something that other productions never really saw. Pearl has a puffball skirt and the only pink that’s used in the main part of the costume is the belt she has on. I also like the wig and how it’s multicolored with black, pink, and white, something that also solely remained with the London production. The voluminous hair is something that stayed with Pearl for many years, but I wouldn’t say any wig looks fluffy like this one. I really do wish the black stayed with the costume.

At the beginning I mentioned making a doll of Pearl, so if anyone wants updates/progress of that as I go, please let me know :D I’m in the planning stage right now but have the fabric, paint, clay, and all the other materials that I’ll need. And if anyone wants my opinions on Starlight Express characters, costumes, or anything, send me an ask about it! I like sharing my opinions about it, even if most people don’t care

[angelfic]

annabeth and grover frantically submerging percy in water the way you’d put an iphone in a bowl of rice

[fingertipsmp3]

Maybe I did this to myself but it does irk me when people see me knitting and they ask who it’s for and I say it’s for me and the immediate reaction is “you should sell it�� yeah… let me spend at least a week’s worth of my free time making an item I like, want, and would wear just to sell it on etsy, making at most a £2 profit on materials and not being compensated for my time whatsoever 👍🏻

[soobvape]

i need brownies so fucking bad rn

[kavehayati]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[onebillionbeans]

People stop being obtuse about calypso challenge; impossible

[seventh-district]

sometimes it’s late at night and you’re cleaning your room and you come across a few old black and white photos of a young girl and you stare at them for a long minute wondering how on earth they got lost in an old Kroger shopping bag with an unopened pack of cigarettes and a receipt dated 2017.

and you look at the girl in the pictures sat on the floor of someone’s home you don’t recognize, smiling and playing with a set of keys and a tiny part of you feels like it recognizes her but you aren’t sure.

and you flip the pictures over hoping to find some sort of annotation that would give you context and all you find is the year 1964 stamped in tiny font along the edge.

and you flip them back over and time stands still as you realize that the recognition you feel is because she looks so much like you once did and next thing you know your hands are sweating and shaking and you have to sit on the floor because you’re crying so hard because it hits you all at once that you’re looking at your mother.

[pissfizz]

I’m going to lose my mind oh my god I am so scared for this quincenera wtf

[marvelsmostwanted]

There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.

I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.

As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.

The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.

The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.

As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.

I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.

The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.

I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.

I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.

All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.

I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.

My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.

If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:

It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.

Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.

Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.

Sources:

• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text

• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.”��

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[saturdaymournings]

Fuck EVERYONE who ever taught me to hate myself. I was never like this before and I never deserved to feel this way about myself. The hardest part of this is the fact that I know it’s just been instilled in me! I could have been different. Fuck, I was different! I was happy to just exist as myself. I didn’t care what other people thought. Now I’m just like you. Fuck you for taking that away from me